{Opening Credit - "Save Me"}

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Location: United States of America, Texas, High School.

3rd Person Pov

The cold metal doors of the high school’s administrative wing slammed shut behind Krison as he was escorted through the sterile, empty hallways. His footsteps echoed against the polished tile floors, the sound amplifying in the silence that hung over him. The two government agents, Thompson and Wells, walked beside him, their expressions impassive, though Krison noticed the flicker of concern in their eyes when they glanced his way.

They led him to a small, windowless room tucked away in the corner of the building—a temporary holding area, he assumed. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing him inside with the two agents. The room was bare, save for a few folding chairs and a long metal table in the center. A single overhead light hummed softly.

Krison couldn’t breathe. His chest felt tight, like a heavy weight had settled there, pressing in on his ribs. Every instinct in him screamed to run, to escape, but he knew that wasn’t an option anymore. He was trapped.

Agent Thompson took a seat at the table, while Agent Wells remained standing by the door, her arms crossed. Both of them studied him, their eyes calculating, as if they were trying to figure out just how much he knew about his own abilities.

“I know you’re scared, Krison,” Agent Thompson said, his voice low and calm. “But we’re here to help you. I need you to trust us.”

Krison swallowed, his throat dry. “I… I don’t understand any of this,” he muttered. “How could I… summon a tank? I’m just a kid. I didn’t even know I could do that.”

Agent Wells moved toward him, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. Her expression softened just a little. “You’re not the only one with abilities like this, Krison. What you’ve experienced is called a manifestation—when a person’s latent powers come to the surface. And from what we know, it’s not always something that can be controlled right away.”

Krison’s heart skipped a beat. Manifestation? That was what the agents called it, but to Krison, it felt more like an out-of-body experience. It wasn’t just the tank—it was how his body felt, like it was on the edge of bursting with energy, like he couldn’t stop it if he wanted to.

“What… What do you mean there are other people like me?” Krison asked, his voice shaking. “How do you know?”

Thompson and Wells exchanged a glance. It wasn’t reassuring. “There are more people out there with abilities like yours,” Agent Wells explained. “We track individuals with powers for their own safety—and the safety of the people around them.”

Krison’s mind reeled. “You… track people? Are you saying I’m some kind of freak?” he spat out before he could stop himself. He pushed himself away from the table, standing up abruptly. His hands were shaking, and a knot twisted in his stomach.

Wells stepped back, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. “No, Krison. You’re not a freak. What you can do is unique, yes—but it doesn’t make you dangerous, unless you let it. That’s why we need to work with you. To teach you control.”

Krison’s mind raced. Control. How could he possibly control something so powerful? The tank that appeared, the rush of emotions he felt—the sudden pressure of his own abilities bearing down on him—it was too much. The more he thought about it, the more he felt the anxiety rising. What if he lost control again? What if he accidentally summoned something worse?

A flash of memory passed through his mind—the moment the tank appeared in the classroom, the panic on everyone’s faces, the fear. What if I hurt someone next time?

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, his voice small. “I can’t control it.”

Thompson leaned forward, his gaze softening. “We’re not going to ask you to do it alone. That’s why you’re here. We’ll help you understand your powers, and we’ll help you get them under control. But it’s going to take time. It’s not easy for anyone.”

Krison glanced at Wells, who was still standing by the door. Her eyes were thoughtful, almost sympathetic. “You’re not alone in this, Krison,” she said gently. “We’ll help you learn how to manage your abilities, but it’s going to take patience and practice. And it starts with understanding what triggers them.”

Before Krison could respond, the door to the room opened, and the principal, Mr. Reynolds, stepped inside. He looked uneasy, his face drawn, but he still wore his usual suit, his tie slightly crooked from stress.

“I’ve received word from the authorities,” Mr. Reynolds said, his voice tense. “The media is swarming the school grounds, and parents are starting to panic. We need to get ahead of this before it escalates.”

Krison felt a wave of nausea sweep over him. The media? People were talking about him. He was going to be the next big news story. His life would be in the spotlight, and he was no longer sure if he wanted to be seen at all.

“Krison,” Mr. Reynolds continued, his voice lowering, “we need to figure out what to do next. We can’t keep you here forever.”

Krison’s heart raced again, and he could feel the tears starting to sting his eyes. He hadn’t even done anything wrong—he had just been himself—and now his whole life was in danger of unraveling. Why did this happen to me?

Agent Thompson stood up, his demeanor shifting. “We’ll take care of the media, Mr. Reynolds. I’ll make sure no one gets too close to Krison, but we need to get him out of here—somewhere safe.”

“Safe?” Krison asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Where can I be safe? What happens to me now?”

Wells looked at him, her expression soft but firm. “We’ll take you to a secure facility where you can be trained. You’ll be monitored, and we’ll make sure you’re safe. You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ll help you get control of your powers, Krison.”

A long silence fell over the room. Krison couldn’t process it all at once. The idea of being taken away to a facility, of being watched and controlled—it felt suffocating, like a cage closing in around him.

But deep down, Krison knew he didn’t have a choice. The world had changed in an instant, and he was part of something bigger now. The question wasn’t if he could control it, but how.

He stood up slowly, wiping his eyes. The tears weren’t just fear—they were frustration, exhaustion. The realization of what he was about to face settled over him like a dark cloud. But somewhere deep inside, there was a spark—a small, stubborn glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, I can make it through this.

The agents led Krison out of the room, with Mr. Reynolds following behind, his face a mixture of concern and helplessness. The last thing Krison saw before they left the room was the door closing behind him, the sounds of the school’s chaos echoing through the hallways.

He was going to be alright… right?

{To Be Continue}

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Next Chapter: Facility