Hours later, bloodied and exhausted, Leighton stumbled onto his apartment landing, powers failing. His thermal blurred to normal vision.

One hour until shutdown. No lights. He peeled off the cracked mask and whispered his list: Eggs, bread, breathe. He sat by the bar stool near a table, listening to the hum of the fridge.  A note on the refrigerator read: Mortgage overdue.

He sat for a long minute, phone heavy in his hand, watching city lights pulse beyond the window. The TV flickered on its own reflection.

His thermal vision glitched; power fading fast. Muscles ached at each joint. His nerves felt hollow like losing a sense he was born with.

A shell of glory. Now this.

The key lay cold in his palm. His hand trembled, dry blood cracking across his white glove.

He pulled up Amp's wife's number. Thumb hovered. "Hello?"

"Betty, it's Leighton." His throat closed. "I'm sorry... he didn't make it. He saved my life."

Silence-then sobs. "Robert's been gone all night. He knew?"

"Thank you, Leighton. This is... hard."

"If you need anything..." He ended the call before his voice broke.

Missed calls: Donna-his Food Mart boss.

"Can't endanger her. Can't lose this job," Leighton murmured.

He typed: Stuck in traffic-sorry.

Then texted his boss: Food poisoning-doc says two days. Lies stacked like broken bones.

The news streamed live-the city cheering over the Delta Plant fallout.

News ticker: METAHUMAN REGISTRATION LAW PASSED - POWERS MUST BE DECLARED OR FACE INTERNMENT. The anchor spat each word. Protesters waved signs: No More Heroes.

His stomach knotted. Overnight, the world had turned on his kind. Fear replaced faith.

His phone buzzed-unknown number.

"Hello, Leighton."

"Level."

"I'm coming for the key."

"Whatever you're planning, I'll stop you."

The call cut dead.

The image of Level's dragon tattoo burned in his mind. The key in his hand felt like a ticking bomb.

The room fell quiet. City lights glinted off cracked masks-then glass exploded inward.

Tear gas hissed. Mask on. A woman vaulted through the window, plasma pistol leveled at his chest.

"Hello, Persona," Roleplay sneered. "Level said you'd fight."

"You've got something that isn't yours." Her eyes were cold as she pulled off her mask.

She grinned. "You and your kind leave nothing but damage."

A plasma bolt scorched the kitchen tiles. Leighton blurred forward, ripped the pistol free, and slammed it down.

She lunged, her fist cracking his jaw. He staggered into the fridge-door flung open, groceries spilling.

Amp's dying breath echoed in his head. He countered, shattering her guard-her lip split, blood spattering tile.

She ducked his hook and drove a brutal punch into his ribs. Air exploded from his lungs.

She flipped backward, heel catching his chin. His vision glitched-Heavy's death flashed behind his eyes.

He parried the flurry, blocked the knee, seized her wrist, and hurled her into the couch.

Roleplay's eyes glowed blue-his own thermal vision reflected back at him.

She charged like a freight train, slamming him through the wall. Plaster cracked around them.

Pulse hammering, Leighton twisted, locking her against his chest. Her glowing blue eyes blinked inches from his, her reflected heat pulsing back at him.

She broke free, super‑strength flipping him onto the granite counter. The countertop splintered.

Her wrist‑gun flashed-a retina‑searing blast erupted toward his face.

An ankle sweep took him down. "Goodbye, handsome. Strength looks fragile from here."

She rifled his pocket, snatched the key. He managed to tag her ankle with a tracker before she kicked free.

"See you around." Her jetpack ignited, roaring as she vanished into the night.

His powers failed-the two‑hour limit reached. Five hours of recharge stood between him and another fight.

Amp's promise-shattered.The key’s absence pulsed like a phantom heartbeat in his palm.

A/N

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