CHAPTER 1: SPARKS AND EMBER

The streets of Brockton Bay always felt like a powder keg, ready to blow at any second. Ethan Harper wasn't a hero. He didn't patrol, didn't wear a costume, and didn't try to save the day. He liked to keep his head down, which was hard enough considering he was dating Crystal Pelham, better known as Laserdream of New Wave. She was radiant in every sense of the word—confident, strong, and optimistic in ways that seemed almost naive in a city like this. And for reasons Ethan didn't quite understand, she liked him.

Tonight, she had plans with her family. Some New Wave thing, probably involving Aunt Carol's endless lectures about cape responsibility. Ethan, free from any obligation, had taken to wandering the Boardwalk. He liked it there—the mix of salt air and the distant sound of waves was calming. But calm was a rarity in Brockton Bay, and tonight was no different.

The first sign of trouble was the smoke—a thick, black column rising from the industrial district. The second was the roar. It wasn't human. It was deep, guttural, and filled with rage. Ethan's stomach churned. He'd heard that sound before: Lung.

Ethan debated running in the opposite direction. He wasn't a hero, after all. Sure, he had powers—reality-warping ones at that—but using them was always… unpredictable. The world didn't like being rewritten, and every time he bent it to his will, it pushed back. Hard. Crystal had urged him to practice, to join New Wave, but he'd always found an excuse not to.

Still, something about the rising smoke and the distant sounds of battle pulled him forward. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and followed the chaos.

By the time Ethan arrived at the scene, the industrial district was a warzone. A massive warehouse was engulfed in flames, the heat radiating outward in waves. The ground was littered with debris—twisted metal, shattered crates, and what looked like the remains of a vending machine.

At the center of it all was Lung, towering and monstrous. His body was encased in scales that shimmered like molten gold, and fire licked at his claws as he swung at a figure darting around him. It took Ethan a moment to realize it was a girl—slim, wearing black, with a bug-themed mask and swarms of insects swirling around her.

"Weaver" Ethan muttered to himself. He didn't know her personally, but Crystal had mentioned her once or twice. Bug cape. Newbie. Apparently, she was trying to make a name for herself as a hero. Fighting Lung solo was certainly one way to do that.

It was also suicidal.

"Shit," Ethan muttered as Lung let out another roar, sending a torrent of flame toward Taylor. She dove behind a stack of crates, but the heat alone was enough to make her stumble.

Ethan clenched his fists. He could walk away. He should walk away. But something about the scene—the girl's desperation, the overwhelming odds—made his chest tighten.

"Crystal's gonna kill me," he muttered before stepping forward.

"Hey!" Ethan shouted, his voice carrying over the crackling flames. Lung turned, his glowing eyes narrowing as he spotted Ethan. Weaver peeked out from behind her cover, her mask hiding her expression, but her body language screamed confusion.

"And who are you supposed to be?" Lung growled, his voice deeper and rougher than any human's should be.

Ethan took a deep breath. "Just a guy trying to stop you from roasting a teenager alive."

Lung laughed, a low, menacing sound that sent a chill down Ethan's spine. "You think you can stop me?"

Ethan raised a hand, his fingers twitching as he reached out to the fabric of reality itself. The air shimmered around him, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the fire surrounding Lung extinguished. It didn't fade or die out—it simply ceased to exist, leaving only smoke and the lingering smell of charred metal.

Lung's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in fury. "You've made a mistake."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Ethan muttered.

Lung charged, his massive frame barreling toward Ethan like a freight train. Ethan didn't move. Instead, he raised his hand again, twisting reality just slightly. The ground beneath Lung shifted, stretching into a slick, muddy slope. The gang leader skidded, losing his footing and crashing into a stack of crates.

Weaver emerged from her hiding spot, staring at Ethan. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded.

"Not important," Ethan said, his focus still on Lung. The dragon-man was already recovering, his scales glowing brighter as he grew even larger. The temperature in the air began to rise again, the heat rolling off him in waves.

Ethan grimaced. Warping reality wasn't easy, especially against someone as powerful as Lung. The more he tried to change, the harder the world pushed back. His head was already starting to pound.

"Get out of here!" he shouted at Weaver. "I'll keep him busy!"

Weaver hesitated, clearly torn. Her swarm buzzed around her, almost as if urging her to stay.

"I've got this," Ethan insisted, though he wasn't entirely sure he believed it.

Lung roared again, this time unleashing a wave of fire directly at Ethan. He reacted instinctively, raising both hands and pulling. The flames curved mid-air, bending around him harmlessly before dispersing into glowing embers. Lung's eyes widened again, but this time, there was a flicker of caution behind the rage.

"You," Lung growled, pointing a clawed finger at Ethan. "You're like her. You bend the rules."

Ethan had no idea what Lung meant by that, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. The gang leader lunged again, faster this time, his claws outstretched. Ethan twisted the air around him, creating a shimmering barrier, but Lung's sheer strength shattered it like glass, sending Ethan stumbling back.

"Not good," Ethan muttered, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. Reality-warping took a toll on him, and he could feel himself nearing his limit.

Suddenly, Weaver was beside him, her swarm descending on Lung in a black cloud. The insects crawled into Lung's eyes, his mouth, the gaps in his scales. He roared in frustration, swiping at the swarm, but they were relentless.

"Thought I told you to run," Ethan said, glancing at Weaver.

"I don't run," she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos.

Ethan couldn't help but grin. "Fair enough."

With Weaver's swarm keeping Lung distracted, Ethan focused. He reached out, feeling the fabric of reality around him. It was frayed, chaotic, barely holding together under Lung's raw power. But it was still there, and he could still shape it.

He clenched his fist and pulled. The air around Lung warped, the ground beneath him turning into a viscous, sticky substance. He struggled, his movements slowing as the substance hardened, trapping him in place.

Weaver didn't miss a beat. Her swarm surged, stinging and biting every exposed inch of Lung's body. His roars grew weaker, his flames sputtering out as exhaustion finally began to take hold.

Ethan staggered, his vision swimming. He had pushed himself too far, and the world was fighting back, the edges of his vision flickering like a faulty TV.

"We need to go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Weaver nodded, her swarm retreating as she moved to support him. Together, they stumbled away from the scene, leaving Lung trapped and roaring in frustration behind them.

As they reached a safe distance, Weaver finally spoke. "You're not just some random guy, are you?"

Ethan laughed weakly. "You could say that."

"I'm Taylor," she said, offering a gloved hand.

He hesitated before shaking it. "Ethan. And for the record, I usually try to avoid this kind of thing."

"Well, you're not very good at avoiding it," she said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

Ethan couldn't argue with that.