When Oscar first saw Emily, Stella, and Theo, he nearly cried tears of joy. Even though he'd been told they were fine, doubt lingered in his mind like a heavy fog.

They ran up to him with relief and smiles on their faces. Well, Emily had the closest thing to a smile; in truth, he didn't think he had ever seen her truly happy before. She was the dark and brooding type that he thought only existed in movies.

Even though he wasn't really friends with any of them besides Andre, he cared about what happened to them. It wasn't every day he got abducted with his fellow classmates. A traumatic experience like that was bound to bring them closer together.

Stella wrapped him in a hug that nearly crushed him. ''We thought you'd never wake up.''

He awkwardly patted her back until she released him. ''Well, I did.''

''It's good to have you back, Oz,'' Emily said.

''Thanks, Goth Queen.''

The two of them had been acquaintances since freshman year. They didn't hang out often—and when they did it was usually always during detention—but they had a mutual respect for one another. She also happened to be one of the only people at their school who really knew what happened the night Oscar's parents died.

Looking around, he realized Andre and Chase weren't with them.

''Where's the big guy and that new kid?''

Theo gestured behind him and at the giant glass tubes with the floating bodies inside. ''They're in the tubes getting tested.''

Everything about that sentence sounded wrong.

Oscar furrowed his brows upon realizing Theo and the girls were wearing matching black leotards. At least, that's what they looked like; they were skin-tight with long sleeves and colored lines woven in intricate patterns. ''What's up with the costumes? You guys about to go to a ballet recital or something?''

Theo chortled while Emily shook her head at his joke.

''Director Shaw called them bio-suits,'' Stella told him. ''I'm not really sure what they do, though....''

''They're really tight that's for sure,'' Emily grumbled while pulling at the matte material.

Oscar didn't envy them.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder. Craning his neck upward, he noticed it was Director Shaw's. ''They were made to adjust to your bodies and assist with your newfound abilities. For example, Theo's helps aid him against air friction and changing pressure systems.''

He pretended to know what any of that meant.

Theo's eyes lit up at the mention of his suit's capabilities. ''Wanna see something cool, Oz?''

''Not really, man.''

He'd already seen and heard enough weird stuff for the day. He wasn't sure if he was physically and mentally ready for more. In fact, his head was still spinning from when Director Shaw told him he was fire resistant.

Of course, Theo ignored him.

Grinning, the boy dropped to one knee and extended one of his legs back, straightening his lanky arms as he pressed his palms against the ground. He looked like a sprinter preparing to explode out from their blocks. ''I've been practicing this for a few days now. Hopefully I don't burn my shoes off this time.''

Burn his shoes? He turned to Emily and Stella. ''What's he talking about?''

''Just watch,'' Stella said cryptically.

Theo pushed up from his runner's stance and zipped past Oscar in a blur of black and silver. The vague, fleeting shape of him darted around the perimeter of the lab before returning to his original spot.

All of that happened in about three seconds.

Oscar did the sign of the cross and started to pray in Spanish. What the boy did shouldn't have been possible. He'd never seen anyone move that fast before in his life.

''I am...very confused.''

Panting, Theo wiped his wet forehead. Retrieving his inhaler from his pocket, he took a few puffs and let out a giddy laugh. ''Wasn't that awesome? Everything about this is awesome. Granted, everything seems like it's moving at 200 miles per hour but other than that it's fine. I'm fine. We're all fine!''

Stella patted his shoulder and urged him to remember to breathe while talking. Emily simply laughed as the boy's face turned red as he sucked in a few breaths.

''It's truly magnificent what you all can do,'' Director Shaw said. A hint of awe could be heard in his tone. Clearing his throat, he gestured at a person holding a tray with a folded-up black suit on top of it.

''Wow, a super tight jumpsuit. You shouldn't have.'' Oscar glanced at the outfit with disdain. ''No, seriously. You really shouldn't have. I don't want to wear that thing.''

Director Shaw chuckled. ''I'm aware they aren't the best looking out there but we're gonna need you to put it on for a bit. Not only do they help you with your abilities, but they also help my technicians track your heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature.''

''We're ready for him, sir,'' a technician standing next to one of the transparent cylinders said. As they spoke, the machine opened, and the white mist poured out. Seconds later, both a few scientists helped Chase and Andre out of the glass units.

They wore suits as well. It made them look like superheroes. Granted, they both were built like professional atheletes; he had a feeling the spandex wouldn't flatter his physique in the same way.

''Excellent,'' the director of Atlas said, clapping his hands together. He turned to Oscar and handed him his bio-suit. ''My apologies but we're going to have to cut your reunion with your friends a bit short. We'd like to get your tests over with. Change into this and meet back here. It's time to see what you can really do.''

Gulping, Oscar took the suit and stared at it.

He had no idea what was in store for him.

#

''What do these tube things do anyway?''

He stood in the center of the hollowed cylinder with his bio-suit equipped. Just as he suspected, the material was tighter than his own skin. It even caused him to develop a wedgie. He would've pulled it out but too many eyes were on him at the moment. And that definitely wasn't a good look.

The suit itself didn't look too bad on him, though. In fact, it made him look like he came straight out of a comic book. Orange lines in an abstract pattern lined the mesh, which was softer than anything he'd ever worn before.

''The 'tube things' help us assess your physical state and how the Primonium affected your body on a more definitive level,'' a technician answered from behind the control table. A few others sat among them, typing things into the dashboard.

Oscar pursed his lips. ''I'm gonna pretend like I know what that means.''

A few of the technicians laughed from behind their table.

''There was only so much we could do while you were sleeping,'' Director Shaw added.

Nodding, Oscar turned his attention to the floor beneath him. Tiny holes riddled the metal plating. It was cold to the touch, even through the black shoes they had given him.

''So, when're we gonna start this thing?'' He desperately wanted to get whatever this was over with and get some more sleep.

If anything, waking up from his coma only made him more tired.

''I take it you're ready then.''

''As ready as I'll ever be.''

A tone sounded within the tube and a blast of air shot out from under his feet. Coughing, he shielded his nose from faint scent of sulfur and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. But it was a familiar smell that made his heartbeat spike.

Then the smoke came.

It billowed around him like angry storm clouds, filling the entire contraption until it looked like a syringe filled with ink. Fire rose beneath him. The flames licked at his feet as they began to grow.

His eyes wide, Oscar pressed his back to the nearest wall. A chorus of screams jumped from his throat while he banged on the glass.

''What're you trying to kill me?!'' He pounded on the wall a few more times while keeping an eye on the flames creeping up on him. ''Let me out of here!''

''Oscar,'' a voice outside said, ''we need you to calm down.''

''Calm down? You're trying to set me on fire!"

''You're fire proof now, remember?''

He relaxed a little bit. That is what they told him when he first woke up. But how could he be sure they were telling the truth? And what if he wasn't as resilient as they thought he was? Then again, he did survive a car explosion. That couldn't have been pure luck.

Firing a cautious look at the flames inching toward him, he supposed there was only one way to find out.

His heart thundering within his chest. Taking a few deep breaths and praying under his breath, he held his foot over a violent plume of fire. Much to his surprise, he couldn't even feel its warmth—not really, anyway. It was like his body recognized there was flame touching it, but its heat didn't affect him. Figuring it to be a cause of the suit he wore, he decided to try it out on his hand.

He put his hand out. Just like his foot, he couldn't feel the fire. A giddy laugh escaped his lips.

Esto es loco.

''How hot is this?''

''2,000 degrees.''

Oscar nearly fainted. ''Come again?''

''We normally would've started with a lower temperature but the van you were found in was hotter than normal.''

He barely paid attention to what they were saying. He flipped his hand over, keeping it above the flames. A yelp caught in his throat after the fire moved around his palm. He swiped his hand and fire followed. It was as if it was a blazing marionette and he was the puppet master.

''Woah.''

''Hmm,'' someone outside said. ''That's remarkable.''

''Amazing,'' he heard Director Shaw mutter. 'We had our theories but seeing it in person is...it's something else.''

Oscar continued to manipulate the fire around him. He couldn't help but grin as he swished it around the inside of the tube. Around him, the smoke thickened. But he never coughed. Not even once. The air, while not as crisp as before, was completely breathable to him.

It was incredible.

As the ash and smog rose around him, a gateway in his brain was unlocked. Suppressed memories seeped into his head. His vision clouded and everything around him seem to fade away. He shook his head and pressed his hands to his temples. Shutting his eyes, he whimpered as the images inside his head became clearer.

He was going back to that day.

The day his life went up in flames.

He was back on the street that led to his apartment. It had been a hot summer in Los Angeles. He'd been walking back home after school with Isabella.

He remembered seeing the smoke in the distance. He remembered the panic stabbing at his heart when he realized it was his apartment building that was on fire. Without even thinking, he tried running into the building to try and save his parents.

But the fire fighters wouldn't let him pass. So, he stood there as his body and mind went numb watching the unforgiving flames engulf everything in its path—including his parents and the other tenants who had been trapped inside.

He'd been too weak to save them. Too slow. Maybe if he hadn't spent that extra hour after school with his friends, he and his parents would've been at the restaurant they were supposed to be at. He should've broken free from the first responders and rushed into the building. He should've saved them.

No matter what anyone told him, it would always be his fault.

Tears stung his eyes and he squeezed them shut. He dropped his hands to his sides, his hands curling into fists. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the fire around him getting warmer. What once was a faint, tickling sensation was now a slightly uncomfortable warmth.

''Oscar, are you alright?''

He didn't respond.

''Oscar! It's getting to hot in there! We need you to stop...whatever it is you're doing!''

Snapping his eyelids open, he saw the flames pooling around his body shifted from their original reddish-orange color to a bright, cobalt blue. The smoke got thicker and impaired his vision like a heavy curtain. The acrid smell of sulfur tickled his nostrils.

He took a few calming breaths to ease his mind. Within a few seconds, the flames began to die down and revert to their original color. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he hung his head and uttered a quiet apology.

Outside, the technicians deactivated the machine. Once the smoke dissipated and the fire receded back into the floor, the glass sunk down into the floor. An opening in the glass appeared and a couple of people in lab coats carefully helped Oscar off the metal platform he now stood on.

Director Shaw walked over to him with concern etched into his stony features. The creases in his forehead deepened as he peered at the boy. ''What happened? Did the fire hurt?''

Oscar swallowed the thick lump in his throat and shook his head. ''I don't want to talk about it.'' He tapped his foot and scowled to keep himself from crying. At that exact moment, he realized his abilities must have been an ironic punchline to a sick joke. Either that or it was meant to remind him of how he failed his parents.

He hated fire. He always had and he always would.

The CEO of Atlas studied Oscar for a moment before nodding. ''I understand that this may be a difficult time for you. We'll reschedule the rest of your tests for another date, alright?"

Oscar nodded. ''Yeah, alright.''

Director Shaw turned to Victoria, who had just arrived next to him. ''Can you show him to his room?''

She opened her mouth—most likely to protest—but her father gave her a look that made her reconsider. Sighing, she nodded. Victoria stomped past Oscar and towards the exit of The Lab.

He wasn't in the mood to entertain her bad attitude.

He couldn't get the images of his old apartment burning down to the ground out of his head. When it first happened, he would get spontaneous panic attacks that kept him out of school for days. As time passed, he learned how to keep himself from reliving that day.

His hand dived into the pocket on the leg of his bio-suit. The cool metal of his lighter brushed against his knuckles, calming his frazzled nerves a bit. His finger thumbed the engraving etched into the silver.

''You coming, Oscar?''

Nodding, he forced a smile and followed Victoria out of the room.