Between Hope and Dread

Tson didn't wait for Kevin to catch up. His mind was spinning, and the thought of what awaited him at home only made the pressure in his chest tighten. His fingers twitched, itching to grab his tablet, but he clenched his fists instead. He needed to focus. Stay present. Think clearly.

Stepping outside, the sunlight was almost blinding, too harsh against his skin. He squinted, trying to shake the unease that had settled deep in his bones. Beside him, Kevin's usual laid-back demeanor was replaced with something more serious. He could sense the weight pressing down on Tson.

"You sure about this?" Kevin finally asked, breaking the silence. "I mean, this is your brother we're talking about. Grayson doesn't just wake up like that, right?"

Tson exhaled sharply. "Yeah, but based on all my calculations, he should be awake by now. Remember the last time I was in the dojo with you? I took hit after hit, one fight after another, against people with combat-type ILs. Ended up with a major concussion, but it was gone within hours. That's how fast my regeneration works. Grayson's been stable for at least two days now. If Rampage really integrated with my IL, his brain should be fully restored—even though he was in a vegetative state before."

Kevin shot him a glance. "Then why aren't you checking your tablet?"

Tson stiffened. His mind flashed back to the dream—the nightmare—where he'd seen Grayson's mouth forming words he couldn't understand. He shook his head. "I'd rather check in person. There's… something wrong with my house system." A lie. He knew damn well nothing was wrong with it. He just couldn't bring himself to look. If he did, and the nightmare turned out to be real… it would all be his fault.

They waited at the usual stop for the Hyperflux. The city's floating news screens displayed the latest superhero rankings. Requiem was on top, as expected, followed by Graviton Pulse and Neon Nova. Normally, Tson would analyze the rankings, comparing power classifications and ILs. But today? He didn't have the stomach for it.

Instead, he sat in silence, staring down, lost in thought.

Then the Hyperflux arrived.

High above the ground, a series of circular electromagnets hovered in perfect alignment, each one spaced two feet apart. Dark metallic frames pulsed with energy, crackling arcs of blue-white electricity flickering between them like living veins of power. Suspended midair, the rings hummed in an unbroken chain of electromagnetic propulsion.

Then—the Hyperflux shot through.

Not a traditional train, but a sleek, elongated construct of polished metal and reinforced plating, gliding effortlessly along the magnetic pathway. As it passed through each ring, the energy intensified, momentarily illuminating the air with a charged glow before surging forward, accelerating the train faster and faster. Sparks danced along its edges, the air rippling with residual static.

The rings didn't just guide the train—they flung it forward with violent precision. No wheels. No tracks. Just raw electromagnetic force, carrying it through the sky at breakneck speed.

The doors slid open with a hiss.

Tson hesitated. His stomach churned. Every stop brought him closer to home. Closer to whatever awaited him. He wanted to go home. He also didn't want to go home.

Kevin nudged him. "Tson, come on."

"Oh… right." He forced himself up and stepped inside.

Each stop ticked away like a countdown. His thoughts spiraled. He almost wished the train would stall, that he could delay facing the consequences of his choices. What if I ruined him?

He squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe Grayson was awake. Maybe everything was fine.

But what if he wasn't?

What if he was still just a mindless drone?

Then—BEEP.

The Hyperflux slowed.

The doors slid open.

Kevin had already stepped out, waiting for him. Tson stayed frozen for a second longer, gripping the rail until his knuckles turned white.

"Let's go," Kevin said, watching him carefully. "Don't you want to see your brother?"

Tson wished it was a rhetorical question.

Which Grayson would he find?

The man who had adopted him when no one else wanted him?

Or the mindless husk that teleported aimlessly, disconnected from reality?

He swallowed hard. He didn't want to find out.

Kevin grabbed his arm. "Come on, man. We don't have all day."

"Yeah," Tson muttered. He forced his feet to move, stepping off the train.

The walk through the neighborhood felt wrong. Something about the silence made Kevin uneasy.

The streets stretched ahead, lined with seamless, futuristic houses—architectural marvels of self-healing glass, smart alloys, and bioluminescent panels that pulsed softly in the dimming evening light. Normally, Kevin would have been fascinated, unable to resist pointing out the minute details in each structure—the way some homes seemed to shift their outer layers to regulate temperature, or how the smart glass adjusted its tint in response to the fading sun. His fingers would twitch with the urge to sketch the designs later, to break them down into something comprehensible, something tangible.

But today, he stayed quiet. He caught his reflection, just like always—but something felt different. Tson wasn't his usual self, and Kevin couldn't help but think that Tson had every right to feel that way. Kevin thought about it, the weight of the realization settling in. Tson didn't know for sure if Grayson was going to be okay. And that uncertainty hung heavy in the air.

When Tson reached the house, he hesitated. His feet felt heavy, unwilling to move. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he dragged his feet forward, step by step, toward the front door.

Then—they heard it.

A faint sizzling sound.

Like… someone cooking.

Tson and Kevin froze.

Their heads snapped toward each other, identical expressions of shock crossing their faces.

No way.

No fing way. *