Unstable Velocity

Tson gritted his teeth. Come on, come on… The numbers on his display crawled upward—too slow. Way too slow. His suit's systems screamed warnings at him, flashing red as Ezron's instability threw off the integration process. If the connection failed now, the energy backlash could tear both of them apart.

Grayson reappeared beside Kevin, mind racing. Then, an idea struck him. Without hesitation, he teleported to Ezron. His body still pulsed with the raw energy surging beneath his skin, but he ignored it. Instead, he focused.

A sharp, well-placed punch to the chin. A hit strong enough to snap Ezron's head back, to rattle his brain, to shut him down.

And he did exactly that.

Ezron reeled, his body momentarily stunned, while Tson pressed forward. He siphoned the velocity out of Ezron, his suit compensating for the overwhelming force. Grayson had so many questions—Wouldn't absorbing this energy make Tson just like Ezron? His mind raced like a high-speed processor, piecing together the answer before he even realized it.

Tson wasn't just absorbing Ezron's energy—he was managing it.

His sentinel suit wasn't just taking in raw power. It was stabilizing it, regulating the IL, ensuring it wouldn't overload. Unlike Ezron, whose body had never developed the IL properly, Tson's suit had integrated with his own system, making all the necessary adjustments.

Grayson couldn't help but think about his brother. About the genius of this technology. This could've been his. Not just his, but Kevin's too.

Meanwhile, Ezron drifted.

Locked in a dream of simpler times. Of action figures dressed as superheroes. Of chasing down villains in his backyard. How ironic, he thought.

Why ironic?

Because now, even as reality blurred, as consciousness slipped, he remembered.

Being bullied. Looked down on. Retreating into comic books and promising himself—one day, I'll be the hero.

And yet, here he was.

Ohhh right, he thought, as if coming back from his climber.

Ezron thrashed violently, his form flickering like a failing lightbulb. He lurched forward, the uncontrolled speed of his body shattering the pavement beneath him. A sonic crack tore through the air.

Too fast.

Tson barely managed to hold on as Ezron whipped forward, dragging him like dead weight. His feet scraped against the ground, boots sparking against the asphalt.

Grayson blinked back into position, arms raised. "Tson, let go! If he keeps accelerating, he'll liquefy you!"

Kevin moved to intercept, phasing between solid and incorporeal, searching for an opening to strike without getting caught in Ezron's chaotic motion.

Ezron's eyes locked onto the approaching heroes—wild, panicked, glowing with pure, unstable energy. I have to get away. I have to—

Then, the pain hit.

His spine burned, his nerves screaming as the integration blade forced his system into recalibration. It wasn't just slowing him down—it was rewriting him, syncing him to a stable frequency.

Tson's visor blared a new warning: Overclocked Feedback Detected. Immediate Disengagement Required.

10%… 15%…

Ezron gasped, the conflicting forces inside him reaching a breaking point.

His mind fractured.

Yeah, his mother, the one he saw earlier, she had always supported him. He started remembering earlier when he started running, and he remembered some face that was familiar—that was his mother.

A flood of images slammed through his consciousness—his first dose of the IL-velocity serum, the rush of speed, the dream of becoming someone worth remembering. His mother's voice, telling him he could be more. The cold rejection from the Hero Academy, the snide remarks from the elites who never saw him as anything but a background character in their world.

And now?

A monster. A threat. A danger to be put down.

No.

Ezron's body began to hum, energy surging back to life. His mind drifted, memories flickering like half-lit sparks. He could almost remember… his mother. Yeah, he had seen her—hadn't he? His body pulsed with unstable light as he turned toward where she had been, trying to recall the exact moment her face had come into view.

Then—someone called her name.

Panic seized him. His breath hitched.

Because he knew.

When his body vibrated uncontrollably like this, everyone in the vicinity—everyone near him—was as good as dead.

Oh no.

Tson's visor blared its same old warning.

20%… 25%…

Ezron stirred, his consciousness clawing its way back. But before he could fully react, three heroes sprang into action. Seeing the danger, they rushed forward, grabbed hold of him, and launched into the sky.

Higher. Higher.

Ezron struggled, thrashing against their grip. But the more he fought, the worse it got. His energy intensified, light pouring from his body in blinding waves.

Tson's visor continued its relentless updates.

25%… 30%…

Ezron's movements slowed. His limbs locked up, his body burning hotter, brighter.

And the question hung over them like a blade—

Would Tson absorb all of Ezron's IL before he detonated?

Or would he take the three heroes—and the soon-to-be-academic tryout student—down with him?

Tson's eyes fluttered behind the suit's visor. The heat radiating from Ezron's body was becoming unbearable—excruciating. His breath came in sharp, labored gasps, sweat pooling beneath the layers of armor. He knew there was only one way out of this.

He just hoped it wouldn't be his downfall.

35%… 40%…

Ezron's energy flared, the heat intensifying. The other heroes gritted their teeth as their skin blistered, but they refused to let go. Even Tson could feel parts of his own suit melting, the acrid scent of burning flesh filling his helmet. It hurts. He could feel himself frying inside the armor.

But he didn't stop.

The heroes had done their job. Ezron was finally out—high above where his power could tear through buildings, through cities.

The sky pulsed with an eerie, unnatural glow—a deep, shimmering blue that bled through the darkness like a crack in reality itself. It wasn't the soft luminescence of the moon or the distant twinkle of stars, but something raw, something alive. The glow rippled outward in waves, casting shifting shadows over the land below.

One of them turned, eyes locked on Tson, but of course they didn't know that. They gestured toward the black-and-blue mechanical suit, its emblem glowing faintly despite the heat warping its frame.

"Are you sure you got this?"