Il-Overdrive

Kevin groaned, blinking up at the ceiling as his suit recalibrated. "Damn, that was sneaky," he admitted, rolling onto his side. His head still buzzed from the impact, but he forced himself to his feet. "Alright, I'll give you that one."

Grayson smirked. "You getting slow, Ghost Shade?"

Kevin cracked his neck. "Or maybe you're getting predictable, Sleuth."

Before Grayson could respond, Kevin surged forward, this time relying purely on instinct rather than his suit's tech. His fighting style was a mix of precision and adaptability, and by now, he had started to pick up the rhythm of Grayson's teleportation tricks. Kevin feinted high, then spun low, sweeping at Grayson's legs just as he flickered out of existence.

Gotcha.

Kevin didn't even wait for Grayson to reappear—he pivoted, lashing out behind him right where he knew Grayson would materialize. His fist connected solidly with Grayson's chest, sending him stumbling back.

Grayson coughed. "Oh, you did not just predict me."

Kevin smirked. "What, you think I'd just let you keep tagging me like that?"

Grayson teleported again, but Kevin was already moving. They exchanged a flurry of blows, each adapting to the other's tactics. Grayson would blink mid-strike, trying to confuse him, but Kevin had studied his movement patterns. He started countering before Grayson even fully reappeared.

From the sidelines, Tson let out a low whistle. "Damn, you two are actually pretty evenly matched."

Kevin ducked a strike and retaliated with a sharp uppercut. "Guess that means we're both overqualified for this academy, huh?"

Grayson, rubbing his jaw, grinned. "Or it just means we're the best ones here."

They both stepped back, breathing heavily but grinning like idiots. The sparring match had turned into something more—a test of skill, wit, and sheer stubbornness.

Tson crossed his arms. "Alright, you two done showing off? Because we've got work to do."

Kevin glanced at Grayson, who gave a small shrug. "I could go another round, but I think we both know how this ends."

Kevin nodded. "Yeah. With me winning."

Grayson scoffed. "In your dreams, Ghost Shade."

Tson sighed. "Yeah, yeah, save the banter. We've got class tomorrow, and your mom is probably already looking for you," he said to Kevin.

Kevin froze. Oh. Right.

"I don't feel like walking back right now," Kevin muttered.

Grayson, a figure with fair skin, long flowing hair, and almost ethereal features, laughed. "Sucks to be you. Tell you what—if you win, I'll teleport you home."

Kevin's competitive streak flared. "Ohhh, no you don't."

Tson, watching this unfold, groaned. He had his own problems—his tryouts were tomorrow, and unlike them, he didn't have Il integrated into his suit yet.

With a thought, he summoned Sentinel. His suit activated, and he reached for his back. A bright energy surged as something emerged from his spine, shifting into a sword that pulsed with raw power. While the two idiots fought, he moved over to the computer.

Superhero Rules & Guidelines.

He opened the file and scrolled through the list, scanning the rankings and rules. The number one rule? No killing. Below that were dozens of others—rules meant to keep heroes media-friendly, efficient, and accountable. He downloaded the full database, then let his sword merge back into his spine.

Everything was set. Except… he still needed an Il.

As if the universe had a twisted sense of humor, the news blared across the screen.

BREAKING NEWS: AN IL-OVERDRIVE INCIDENT IS CURRENTLY UNFOLDING IN THE CITY.

Il-Overdrive: Ezron's Rampage

Twenty minutes earlier.

Ezron woke up groggily, checking his watch. Half the damn day gone. He smirked, stretching—but then he felt it.

Power.

Too much of it.

The moment he stood, the air around him shimmered with Il-Velocity.

Then, chaos.

The city trembled as his foot struck the pavement like a cannon blast, the impact shattering asphalt and sending debris flying in all directions. His breath came in ragged gasps, his pulse hammering like war drums inside his skull. The energy surged through his veins—wild, uncontrollable, burning.

He wasn't running anymore. He was unstoppable.

The first building he clipped was a bank—his shoulder colliding with its marble façade at near-supersonic speeds. The impact sent cracks spiderwebbing through the structure before the entire wall exploded outward, glass and stone raining down like shrapnel. The force sent Ezron spinning, but before he could stop himself, he rebounded off a traffic light, snapping the metal pole like a twig.

People screamed. Cars swerved. He tried to stop.

But stopping meant fighting against the momentum of a hurricane.

Another misstep—his knee buckled the concrete beneath him, forming a crater where he landed. The shockwave sent pedestrians flying, their bodies tumbling like rag dolls. He heard their cries, but they barely registered beneath the deafening roar in his ears.

His mind was splitting apart.

His muscles—built for controlled power—refused to hold back. Every movement felt like an earthquake. Every breath threatened to crush his ribs under the weight of his own strength.

He had become a missile without a target.

Someone shouted his name.

A flash of familiarity in his peripheral vision, but he was moving too fast to react. He slammed through a parked bus, cleaving through the metal like tissue paper. His fists clenched involuntarily, and the sheer force alone sent a shockwave rippling outward, flipping cars onto their roofs.

He wasn't just losing control.

He was losing himself.

And the worst part?

He didn't know how to stop.

Bodies lay scattered around him. Some still moving. Some not.

People were dying.

Back at Tson's Lab

Tson's eyes widened as he read the alert. Il-Overdrive.

He turned to Kevin and Grayson. "You guys might wanna stop fighting."

Kevin frowned. "Why?"

Tson turned the screen toward them. The footage of Ezron's rampage played in real-time, showing devastation across the city.

Kevin exhaled sharply. Grayson's smirk disappeared.

Tson clenched his jaw.

"This isn't a match," he muttered. "It's a damn rescue mission."

Without a second thought, Grayson teleported straight to Tson, who was still suited up in the Sentinel armor. Wasting no time, he locked onto Kevin—now going by Ghost Shade—and teleported to his location. They were the closest to the scene, and every second counted.