Fractured Velocity: The Rise of a Broken Hero

Kevin barely registered the jolt of Grayson's teleport before they blinked through a series of landscapes—a quiet farm, a bustling city street—only to land where they were meant to be: a war zone.

The sky choked with smoke, flickers of fire danced on the twisted frames of overturned vehicles, and distant sirens howled over the panicked screams.

Ezron wasn't hard to spot—a blur of raw, uncontrolled power tearing through the streets like a living wrecking ball. His body vibrated unnaturally, flickering between solid and intangible. He phased through a brick wall, only to reappear inside an unfortunate bystander. The person barely had time to scream before their body snapped back to reality—bursting into a sickening spray of blood.

Ezron's eyes widened in horror.

Oh my god… No. No, no, no.

His mind spiraled. He wasn't supposed to be a monster. The IL-velocity serum was meant to make him a hero—strength and speed in perfect harmony. He wanted to save people, to finally be seen as something more than a nobody. Now? Blood soaked his face, his suit, and his hands.

They can't know it's me… I was moving too fast. They didn't see me.

A mechanical thud echoed through the carnage.

The figure had an armored face mask that covers the lower half of the face and part of the nose. It is primarily matte black and designed with a segmented, panel-like appearance, giving it a high-tech, militarized look, and his left arm gleamed, a silver cybernetic prosthetic that hummed with life. The mask has ventilated slits near the mouth and cheek areas, which might be designed to filter air or provide breathability while still maintaining protection.

The top portion of the mask integrates with a pair of dark-tinted tactical goggles, concealing the eyes and adding to the overall intimidating and stealthy appearance.

"Calm down," the figure said, his voice steady but firm.

Ezron's heart jackhammered. Run. His body twitched involuntarily. I need to run. If they catch me… All my work, my dream—gone.

His body blurred again, limbs vibrating out of control. He shot forward, crashing through a bus stop and then a brick storefront, debris exploding around him. He wasn't running anymore—he was ricocheting. Each impact sprayed concrete and glass into the streets. He couldn't stop.

Grayson exhaled, voice low and dry. "Well… crap."

Kevin shook off his dizziness. "We stop him. Fast. Before anyone else dies."

Tson hesitated, heart pounding. This wasn't sanctioned. Operating without a license? That could kill his academy chances. But people were dying. His hands trembled—then steadied. He swallowed hard and nodded. "Let's do this."

Ezron was mid-charge, about to rip through a crowded bus shelter. Kevin didn't wait. He raised his gauntlet and fired low. The concussive blast smashed into the street, throwing Ezron off balance. He staggered, veering into an empty shop window instead. The glass shattered, raining shards in a deafening cascade.

Ezron whipped his head around, eyes blazing with raw, distorted energy. His voice broke through the static hum of his vibrating body.

"Get… away… from me!"

He surged forward, faster than thought. Kevin flickered into his ghost-like form—Ezron's hand passed through his head harmlessly—but the moment Ezron missed, he pivoted, flickering in the opposite direction and vanishing in a blink.

Grayson appeared in a flash, re-energized. He reached for Ezron's shoulder, aiming for a nerve point, but Ezron twisted unnaturally fast and backhanded him. Grayson disappeared again, reappearing feet away, groaning.

"Okay. Bad idea."

Ezron tried running—faster, faster—but his body buckled with every collision. Bus. Wall. Car. Each impact only fed his panic. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't end up in a cell. He wasn't a villain. He wasn't.

The trio followed, relentless.

Grayson blinked ahead, narrowly dodging a flying car Ezron accidentally hurled. He lunged again—but Ezron was faster. Another burst of speed, another flicker, and Grayson was on his back.

Before anyone could move, a new sound cut through the chaos.

FWOOOM.

Three more heroes landed from the sky, silhouettes against the smoke and fire. Their armor glinted, their capes billowed. Reinforcements.

Tson exhaled, his chest aching with relief. "Finally…"

Ezron's eyes flickered from hero to hero. His breath hitched. His body trembled harder.

I can't stop. I can't.

The last of the civilians were gone now. Only heroes remained.

Ezron gritted his teeth as his body shuddered violently, flickering faster than before. The static hum grew louder.

He wasn't running anymore.

He was about to explode.

The three heroes could hardly believe where they'd ended up. This wasn't their city. It was a place dominated by bourgeois elites, a district where crime rates were practically nonexistent. They had fought through every kind of thug, rogue, and villain imaginable—but this place felt different, untouched by the chaos they were used to. Now, facing an IL Overdrive disaster, they had no choice but to wait. None of them could fly that long of a distance, and the only reason they'd even made it this far was thanks to the nearest teleportation relay. From there, they had to push through on foot, battered and exhausted.

Ezron stood in the center of the destruction, his body vibrating uncontrollably, arcs of wild electricity whipping around him. The raw energy pulsed through the air, crackling with intensity that made the newcomers flinch. It was overwhelming—a living storm held together by barely contained force.

Tson's heart pounded in his chest. No, no, no. He slammed his comms. "Grayson, I need you to get me behind him. Now. Right now."

Grayson didn't hesitate. A flash of light, and Tson reappeared exactly where he needed to be—directly behind Ezron. Without a second thought, Tson reached out, his hand landing firmly on Ezron's spine. Energy swirled around his palm, his suit reacting instantly. His arm shifted, transforming into a searing, pulsing energy blade.

"IL Integration," Tson growled.

The blade surged forward. It cut clean through the unstable energy rippling around Ezron, slicing into his back. A digital display flickered on Tson's visor. Integration Progress: 0%... The numbers ticked up painfully slowly. 1%... 2%...

Ezron let out a distorted, static-filled scream. The world seemed to slow as the battle entered its next, deadliest phase.

"W... what are you doing to me?" Ezron's voice came out broken, distorted, barely more than a strained whisper beneath the crackle of energy. The words trembled in the air, filled with a mix of confusion and fear as his body spasmed against the surge of power overtaking him.