form

Jonathan stood, stretching his arms overhead. "Alright. I helped," he said with a self-satisfied grin. "Sometimes I forget how smart I am."

Singed didn't look up from his notes. "You should stay smart," he said, grabbing a vial of shimmer from the cluttered desk. "Be more like me."

Jonathan waved a hand, scoffing. "Why would I want to be like you?" He chuckled, then added, "No kid wants to become like their father."

.

.

.

Jonathan's smile faltered, just slightly. He glanced sideways, before licking his lips and forcing a smile.

"...You know what I mean," he said, recovering. "Just a simple slip of the tongue."

Singed turned and held out the vial.

"Here is the shimmer you wanted," he muttered, studying Crane closely. "I'm interested to see what becomes of your body."

Jonathan nodded, eyes glinting. "Perfect."

He held the vial up to his face, admiring the glow. "Well then, let's put it to use."

He calmly opened a vertical slit in his own stomach, parting the flesh like curtains.

"It should be here somewhere," he murmured, reaching inside.

Singed raised an eyebrow.

Jonathan's hand emerged empty. He stared for a beat—then chuckled nervously, recalling the moment he was impaled.

"Ah. Right. Most of my supplies are gone."

He quickly stepped away, heading to a workbench. "I'll just make my crimson vial real quick."

———————————

Moments later, he held a blood-red vial aloft, triumphant.

"See? Quick, like I said." He flashed a grin at Singed, then grabbed a second vial from the table—a vivid, sickly yellow.

Singed tilted his head. "What is that one for?"

Jonathan began mixing them together. Crimson, shimmer swirled with yellow toxin, the color rapidly overtaken by the brighter hue. He stared into the glass, then muttered:

"To ease the pain, of course."

And with no hesitation, he downed it in a single gulp.

.

.

.

Nothing?

Jonathan turned to Singed, smiling. "That was actually better than expec—"

His voice cut out.

Yellow spread like lightning through his veins, glowing beneath his skin. He dropped to his knees, clutching his throat as it visibly swelled beneath his jawline.

"Ugh—" he gagged, eyes wide.

His body twisted violently, bones cracking and rearranging beneath the surface. Muscles stretched, joints popped. He let out a low, distorted groan as he began to grow—too fast, too wrong.

Endure it, he told himself, barely conscious.

Singed stood still, watching as Jonathan's body contorted—monstrous, mutating—beyond human shape.

———————————————

Jonathan stood tall now, panting, towering.

The shimmer had warped him—stretched him—until he loomed over everything at five meters tall, his body drawn thin.

His spine jutted from his back in sharp, unnatural peaks, vertebrae exposed like a ridge of jagged bone.

His arms hung low, grotesquely extended, fingers twitching just inches above the floor.

Singed tried to examine his face—but Jonathan's eyes made it impossible.

They glowed too bright. Not just illuminated—radiant. A harsh yellow glare that seared like sunlight. Staring into them was like looking directly into the sun.

Jonathan blinked slowly, his expression unreadable behind the shine. Then he tilted his head and grinned.

"Hey… when did you grow smaller?" he asked.

Then, a chuckle. "Nah, I'm not that stupid."

He extended his elongated arms and carefully lifted Singed off the ground like a curious child handling glassware.

Singed, predictably, struggled. "Put me down."

"Wow," Jonathan mused, eyes wide, "I thought it'd be harder to lift you, considering how thin I look."

He gently set Singed back down, then turned and grabbed a heavy metal desk with one hand. The legs scraped harshly across the floor.

"The shimmer made you look frail and stretched," Singed observed, eyeing him with interest. "But your body is far from fragile."

Jonathan nodded, still admiring his surroundings, his glowing eyes sweeping across the lab like flashlights.

"It's nice," he said. "I can see everything…"

He paused. "...But impractical, for me."

Without warning, his monstrous frame began to recede. The long limbs, protruding spine, and towering height compressed back into his human form. Bones cracked in reverse, skin folded, muscles reshaped.

"I just needed a speed boost," he said casually. "Didn't need the new slender form." He brought a hand to his face, grinning faintly. "But imagine someone that size running at you."

"It would certainly be... unusual," Singed muttered, already returning to his desk, unbothered.

"Yeah, it certainly would be," Jonathan echoed. "But it wouldn't just be unusual... it'd be scary."

He smiled to himself, eyes bright with excitement at the thought of that monstrous, slender form charging down a corridor, terrifying anyone in its path.

But then—

The lab door creaked open.

In a blur of yellow light, Jonathan vanished, darting into his room so fast it left a faint shimmer of yellow hanging in the air.

Singed didn't flinch. He simply adjusted a paperweight on his desk. Jonathan's sudden departure wasn't random—he clearly didn't want to be seen. Or sensed.

———————————————

The door opened fully, and in walked Silco. Right behind him, small and unsure, was a blue-haired girl.

Silco's eyes swept the lab, noting the flipped desk and the scatter of papers across the floor. "What happened here?" he asked.

Singed didn't look up. "I was experimenting with my assistant," he replied flatly. "As you can see… it didn't go quite as planned."

Silco glanced around, brow raised. "And where is your assistant now?"

The girl looked around too, clutching her hands close to her chest.

"He's resting in his room," Singed said. "He'll need it for another experiment I've planned."

It was a lie—but Singed knew Jonathan would prefer. The boy had bolted for a reason.

Then Singed turned to the girl. His voice softened, though his bandaged face did little to put her at ease. "And who are you, little one?"

The girl immediately shrank behind Silco's leg.

Silco didn't let her hide. He nudged her forward, stern. "Answer."

She hesitated, barely above a whisper. "My name is P—"

She stopped, swallowed, and corrected herself.

"My name is Jinx," she said, eyes lifting at last to meet Singed's.

———————————————

Meanwhile, Jonathan lay on the cold floor of his room, arms spread, eyes closed but far from at peace. The shimmer still hummed faintly in his blood, but his mind drifted elsewhere—unwilling, anxious.

As his breathing slowed, his body stilled—and his astral form began to peel upward, floating from his physical shell.

he hovered weightlessly in the air above himself. He looked down at his sleeping body and exhaled.

"Please don't find me. Powder, please—I don't need confrontation right now."

He rubbed at his face, though the motion passed through his own cheek like smoke.

"I'm fine. I'm fine… I'll just check. Just a quick peek."

With a nervous glance back at the door, he drifted forward—ghostlike—through the door and into the hallway.

Jonathan floated silently toward the lab, drawn by voices and the cold tension in his chest.

His translucent form passed through the lab wall like a ghost through fog. Inside, Silco stood near Singed, arms crossed, speaking low and firm.

"We can weaponize it," Silco said. "Mass-produce shimmer and flood the undercity with it."

Singed nodded, flipping through notes. "Proper refinement will be needed first."

Jonathan didn't care. His gaze darted around the room.

I thought Powder would be with him… Where can she—

His thought was cut off as a shiver ran through his astral body—Powder walked straight through him.

She stepped into his space, and Jonathan froze. She couldn't see him, but she stopped all the same.

"It suddenly got cold," she whispered, rubbing her arms.

Jonathan hovered behind her now, drawn in, watching her eye a desk lined with shimmer vials. Her small hand reached out.

"Be careful, Jinx," Silco said sternly.

She pulled her hand back quickly, nodding, quiet.

Jonathan drifted around her, circling, watching her face.

"Hm... Already going by Jinx," he murmured, his mouth curving into a sharp smile. "That's a good sign."

.

.

.

"Nobody wanted to come to my tea party…"

He brought one astral hand to his face, pressing the palm to his eye with a grin.

"But would she come?"

He shook his head at himself, then spun around her again in a lazy spiral, his translucent form flickering.

"What would she know about tea?" he muttered, tone rising with some strange, distant glee. "She can learn."

He stopped spinning.

A grin stretched across his face.

"Yeah. That's it."

His voice was a breath.

"She'll learn to love tea."

———————————

To be honest I just really like the color yellow.