Sparks and Shadows

Chapter 13: Sparks and Shadows

There had always been tension in the facility. We were all aware of our abilities, but recently, something had shifted. The air in the common area felt heavy, laced with resentment, jealousy, and competition. The children were changing, becoming more powerful—and more aware of each other.

Two of the most powerful, #0611 and #0529, had been at odds for some time. #0611 was methodical, confident in his control over metal. His power was precise, deadly in its accuracy, and he had always taken pride in that. The staff pushed him harder than most, testing his limits. But recently, their attention had started to shift toward #0529.

#0529 didn't rely on brute force like #0611. His powers over light and shadow made him a trickster, a manipulator. He could blind, deceive, and vanish into thin air. His abilities were fluid, constantly shifting, unpredictable. That unpredictability had caught the staff's eye. More and more, they seemed to favor him.

The rivalry had been simmering for days. It was never spoken aloud, but it was obvious to anyone paying attention. #0611 resented #0529 for stealing his spotlight, for proving that power wasn't just about control—it was about ingenuity. And #0529? He reveled in it. His smirk, the way he moved through the room, all screamed confidence—almost to the point of arrogance.

Today, it finally boiled over.

It began during a training session. The staff had us practicing our abilities, pushing us to refine our control. #0611 worked with a set of metal scraps, bending and shaping them into intricate forms with ease. #0529 was on the other side of the room, using his light manipulation to create illusions, tricking the younger children into thinking he had disappeared entirely. The staff watched him, clearly impressed.

The moment the session ended, the tension snapped.

"You think you're better than the rest of us, don't you?" #0611's voice was low, but there was an edge to it.

#0529 turned slowly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I don't have to think it," he said, his tone calm, mocking.

The words hit their mark. I saw #0611's fists clench, the metal around him trembling in response to his anger.

Without warning, he lashed out. His hand shot forward, and the metal he had been manipulating twisted into jagged spikes, flying through the air with deadly precision, aimed directly at #0529.

But #0529 was faster. His body flickered, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone—swallowed by the shadows. The metal spikes slammed into the wall behind him with a deafening clang, embedding themselves deep into the concrete.

The room fell silent. The other children backed away, eyes wide, unsure of what was happening. But I knew this wasn't over.

#0529 reappeared across the room, stepping out of the shadows like a ghost. His smirk hadn't faded. If anything, it had grown wider.

"You'll have to do better than that," he taunted.

#0611 didn't hesitate. His hands moved in sharp, controlled motions, and the metal around him responded. He pulled it from the walls, from the floor, from anywhere he could find it, shaping it into weapons—blades, spears, jagged shards of steel.

With a flick of his wrist, the metal launched toward #0529 in a deadly barrage.

But #0529 was like smoke. He vanished into the shadows again, reappearing only long enough to taunt #0611 before slipping away once more. The metal missed him every time, striking the walls and floor with brutal force but never hitting its mark.

"Stop hiding!" #0611 growled, frustration seeping into his voice.

For the first time, #0529's smirk faltered. He reappeared near the center of the room, his body half-cloaked in shadow, light flickering dangerously in his hands.

"You want me to stop hiding?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Fine."

The light in his hands exploded outward in a blinding flash, filling the room with a searing brightness that made it impossible to see. I shielded my eyes, blinking against the sudden light.

When the flash faded, I saw #0611 stumbling back, disoriented. His eyes were wide, his breathing ragged. He couldn't see. #0529 had blinded him.

But #0611 wasn't done yet.

With a shout, he tore the remaining metal from the walls, shaping it into a massive, jagged spear. Blind or not, he could still fight.

With a grunt of effort, he hurled the spear through the air, aiming for where he thought #0529 was standing.

It was a wild throw, but it connected.

The spear caught #0529 on the arm, slicing through his skin. Blood dripped to the floor, and for the first time, #0529's expression changed. The smirk was gone, replaced by cold, dangerous fury.

The shadows around him seemed to darken, swirling unnaturally as he gathered his strength. The air in the room grew colder, and I could feel the weight of his power pressing down on us.

The fight was spiraling out of control.

The ground shook as #0611 summoned more metal, tearing it from the walls in jagged chunks. #0529's control over the light grew more unstable, flickering and flashing wildly as he prepared to unleash another attack.

For a moment, I thought the room would collapse under the weight of their powers.

Then, the staff intervened.

They moved quickly, their presence suffocating the room in an instant. The energy in the air dissipated, the light fading, and the metal clattered to the floor with a dull thud.

"Enough."

The single word echoed through the room, cutting through the tension like a blade. Both #0611 and #0529 froze, their powers flickering and fading as they stood, panting, exhausted from the fight.

The staff wasted no time. They stepped forward, separating the two boys and leading them away without a word. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the rest of us in stunned silence.

The fight was over, but the damage had been done.

The other children glanced at each other, their faces pale with fear and awe. We had all known what we were capable of, but this… this was different. We had seen just how dangerous our abilities could be—and how easily they could spiral out of control.

As I sat there, watching the blood drying on the ground, I knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning.

And soon, there would be no turning back.