Rebellion

The scent of something sweet drifted through the air like a warm breeze, tickling Kite's nose and dragging him from sleep.

His nose twitched.

He blinked blearily, slowly sitting up on the worn-out sofa, stretching his arms overhead with a groan. The smell hit him again, stronger this time—sweet, buttery, and vaguely nostalgic.

"Smells like pancakes…" he muttered, rubbing his face before stumbling toward the kitchen like a half-awake zombie on a mission.

As he stepped into the room, the sight greeted him like a scene out of a Saturday morning commercial: Keith, wearing a ridiculously bright red apron that said "Flip It Like It's Hot," was mid-flip with a perfectly golden pancake soaring through the air before landing on a plate with practiced ease.

"Yo, Kite!" Keith called, flashing a grin. "I made breakfast—sure it's not the most nutritious meal, but it sure as hell tastes good!"

Kite squinted at him, then the plate. "You just say that to justify the sugar coma," he deadpanned.

Still, he made his way to the kitchen island, dragging a stool out with his foot and plopping down. The plate of pancakes was practically glowing. He picked up his fork like it was Excalibur.

Keith took a seat across from him, pouring a generous amount of honey over his own stack before digging in.

"So, how'd you sleep?" he asked between bites.

Kite chewed, shrugged. "It was alright, I guess... didn't wake up midair, so that's a win. You?"

Keith nodded. "Good enough. No weird dreams, no surprise energy beams shooting out of the ceiling. Solid eight out of ten."

A comfortable pause settled between them, filled only with the sound of forks on plates.

Then Keith leaned forward, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "So… what's the plan?"

"For the stones?" Kite asked, already knowing the answer but stalling with another mouthful.

Keith nodded.

"I still gotta check my messages. See what William said."

Another nod from Keith. Then, "Quick question?"

Kite raised a brow. "Ask away, pancake prince."

Keith chuckled, wiping honey from his chin. "What's the deal with that Rebellion energy stuff? I heard your suit mention it yesterday on the roof."

Kite paused mid-chew, then swallowed and shrugged. "I don't fully know myself." He tapped the Nexus stone at his chest. "Only way to find out is to ask the glowing rock."

As if summoned, a familiar voice chirped to life in his mind.

"I thought you'd never ask!" Ai said enthusiastically. The Nexus stone shimmered faintly against Kite's skin.

Keith leaned in, clearly intrigued.

"To put it simply," Ai continued, "Rebellion energy is the counter and polar opposite to Tachyon energy."

Keith's eyebrows rose. "Tachyon—as in particles faster than light?"

Kite blinked at him, caught off guard. "Wait, what?"

Keith shrugged casually. "What? I got a Bachelor's degree in astrophysics. I know stuff."

Ai chuckled. "In Earth terms, yes. Tachyons refer to faster-than-light particles. But in universal terms, Tachyon energy is light and life. The connective tissue of this dimension."

"And Rebellion energy?" Keith asked, his voice a little more serious now.

"It's probably like some evil energy if I had to take a wild guess," Kite said jokingly

"Darkness. Corruption. The antithesis of life," Ai said cheerfully. "So yes—dark and evil. One point for you, Kite!"

"Yay," Kite muttered. "I'll add it to my collection of existential dread."

Ai continued, undeterred. "Tachyon energy powers your suits. It fuels your abilities, keeps your mood stable, and protects you. Ever notice how you've felt a bit more… emotionally balanced since getting the stones?"

Keith raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying Tachyon energy is cosmic therapy?"

"Sort of. And Rebellion energy is the opposite. It drains you. Makes you angry, impulsive. Stronger, yes—but dangerously so. Too much exposure and you lose yourself to it."

Keith frowned, clearly remembering something. "So that's why I was acting... off. When I had that thing in my helmet?"

"Correct," Ai confirmed. "That wasn't just stress. The energy was influencing you."

The kitchen fell silent again as the last bites of breakfast were eaten more thoughtfully.

Keith gathered the plates, rinsing them in the sink. "Makes sense."

Kite stood, stretching again. "Hey, do you remember anything from that day? Like how that... thing got into your helmet?"

Keith paused, drying his hands on a towel. He frowned, then shook his head slowly. "Nah. It's blank."

"Figures," Kite mumbled, heading to the bathroom.

Inside, he rinsed his mouth and splashed cold water on his face, staring at himself in the mirror. He didn't feel different, but knowing there were energies out there that could change you... it hit differently in the quiet.

After drying off, he walked back into the living room and picked up his phone from the couch.

He opened the messages from William.

> "Umm, Legion called the one guy Mr. Mayor, that's all."

> "Also you should probably get back to the motel since we're going to the Planetarium and Mr. Carson is gonna give us a quiz sheet while we're in there."

Kite blinked. "Planetarium? Quiz?"

He quickly typed back: "When are you guys leaving?"

The reply came instantly.

> "I mean it's 10 a.m. right now and we're gonna leave in 30 minutes sooo…"

Kite shot up like a rocket, phone clutched in hand.

"Keith!" he shouted.

Keith practically skidded into the living room, apron still on. "What?! What happened!?"

Kite shoved his phone in his pocket. "Give me your phone. I need to add my number."

Keith wordlessly handed it over.

"I gotta go back to Laurel Creek for something," Kite said, already heading for the door.

"Okay, see you I guess…?" Keith blinked.

Kite gave him a two-fingered salute. "Uhhh, yeah—see you soon man."

With that, he bolted out the door, took the stairs two at a time, and slipped onto the crowded sidewalk before ducking into a nearby alley.

And just like that, the real day began.

Kite ducked into the alleyway and glanced around to make sure no one was watching. The Nexus stone around his neck began to glow brightly. In a shimmer of light, his suit formed around him in a matter of seconds, the metallic sheen catching the morning sun peeking through the alley entrance.

In one smooth leap, Kite launched upward, clearing the rooftops like gravity was just a polite suggestion. Wind whipped past him as he soared above the buildings, a blur of motion against the morning sky.

The city below shrank as he flew toward Laurel Creek, taking the faster route—no traffic, no crowds, no quiz-failing detours.

The wind rushed past him as he flew in the direction of Laurel Creek, the city skyline shrinking behind him. Kite squinted against the wind, mentally mapping out the path back to the motel. Within minutes, he was descending behind the building, landing softly in the motel's small back lot. The suit retracted, dissolving into light, and he rushed inside.

Once in his room, he moved quickly—tossing on a clean dark-blue hoodie, baggy jeans, and his usual worn sneakers. He grabbed his backpack, already prepped with a notebook, a few pens, and the ever-important ID for school events. With one last glance in the mirror and a ruffle of his hair, he was out the door again.

The bus was already parked out front. A crowd of students was filing in, some chatting excitedly, others half-asleep and dragging their feet.

William stood near the back, sipping from a cheap vending machine coffee and scrolling through his phone.

Kite jogged up beside him. "Made it with ten minutes to spare."

"Dudeeee, where were you?!" William asked in a hushed voice, "You can't just disappear in the night."

"I had a very important breakfast meeting," Kite replied, dusting imaginary crumbs off his hoodie.

"Of course you did…you gotta tell me what happened though, I gotta know what the great "Pulsar Knight" does in his free time." William smirked.

"You saw the interview?" Kite asked with wide eyes

William nodded, "Oh I saw it alright!"

Kite gave him a side-eye. "Don't start."

"I didn't say anything."

Kite climbed into the bus, sliding into the window seat near the middle. William followed, taking the seat beside him. The bus hissed and rumbled as it pulled away from the curb.

"So," Kite said, turning to him. "Mr. Mayor?"

"Yeah, that's what Legion called him before everything went to hell." William responded, sipping his cheap coffee once more.

"Does that even taste nice?"

"Surprisingly, yeah!" William replied.

The bus rolled to a stop outside the sprawling dome of the Laurel Creek Planetarium. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie—curved glass panels, steel arches, and a massive telescope protruding from the top like the eye of a sleeping giant.

Students poured out, herded by Mr. Carson, who wore his usual khaki blazer and that tired but enthusiastic expression that all teachers seemed to have after wrangling teenagers on buses.

"Alright!" he called, waving a clipboard. "Everyone, take one quiz sheet and pair up. We'll be inside the dome for about an hour. No wandering off. No touching the equipment. And please—no recreating Star Wars scenes in the projection room!"

His eyes briefly locked on Kite and William.

Kite blinked innocently.

Mr. Carson stood at the Planetarium entrance, clipboard in hand and quiz sheets tucked under his arm. As students filtered in, he handed each of them a sheet with a practiced, indifferent motion.

"This isn't for a grade," he announced, his tone flat but laced with a hint of dry amusement, "but I'll be tallying the top scores and posting them. So try not to embarrass yourselves."

The quiz was designed like a scavenger hunt—questions scattered across the exhibits: "Find the star closest to Earth after the Sun," and "Name one benefit of infrared telescopes in space exploration."

Kite moved through the questions at a steady pace, half-reading, half-guessing, while occasionally tossing snarky remarks under his breath. Meanwhile, William tore through it like the answers were coded into his DNA, flipping pages and scribbling with a confidence that made even the guide glance over in surprise.

By the time they reached the exit, Mr. Carson was already marking papers with sharp red strokes. The students clustered together, some chatting, others peeking nervously at their sheets.

Mr. Carson raised a hand to quiet the group. "Alright, the top score today goes to... William. 97%. An almost perfect score. Color me surprised."

Scattered applause broke out. A few students mock-bowed to William, who soaked it in like sunlight. His grin stretched ear to ear.

Kite gave him a sidelong smirk and elbowed him playfully. "Nice job, Astrophysicist Jr. Not like it's a surprise, but hey—still impressive."

William winked. "This is what happens when you actually pay attention in class."

Kite let out a dry laugh, but just as he relaxed, the Nexus stone resting beneath his shirt gave a faint, pulsing twitch—like a heartbeat against his chest.

Mr. Carson herded the group into the next exhibit, the Digital Dome. The ceiling was a vast curved screen, designed to pull the viewer into the cosmos. As the lights dimmed and the stars above began to swirl in slow, hypnotic patterns, the class fell into a hushed awe. The narrator's voice, soft and reverent, filled the room with tales of nebulae and collapsing suns.

Kite tried to focus, but something buzzed just beneath the surface—an unsettling vibration in his chest that refused to fade. He sat straighter, brow furrowed, and leaned over to William.

"Hey... do you feel anything weird?"

William gave him a puzzled look. "No? Like what?"

"Forget it," Kite muttered, shaking his head—but the discomfort didn't leave. It only got stronger.

A soft crackle sounded in his mind. "You're not imagining it," Ai said, voice calm but alert. "There's a residual trace of Rebellion energy nearby. Faint, but real."

Kite blinked, heart kicking up a notch. "Residual?" he whispered.

"Yes. Think of it like a scent—someone with Rebellion energy was here not long ago. Maybe an hour or two. It's clinging to the area, especially near sensitive tech and low-traffic zones."

Kite's jaw tightened. "Great. So, what do I do?"

"Nothing reckless," Ai warned sharply, clearly anticipating where this was going. "You're not ready to confront anything yet. We haven't covered your arsenal, and you barely understand your powers. Just observe. See where the signal feels strongest."

Without another word, Kite raised his hand.

Mr. Carson didn't even glance back. "Bathroom?"

"Yup," Kite said, already slipping from his seat.

The hallway outside was quiet, sterile. Kite focused on the pulse in his chest—the soft tug of the Nexus stone. He didn't activate his suit, partly because he didn't want to draw attention, partly because he wasn't sure what he'd even do if something did show up.

The warmth pulled him down a side corridor, away from the main exhibits. The hallway narrowed, dimmed. The echo of the dome's narration faded behind him.

"You're close," Ai whispered. "It's faint, but this is the strongest reading yet. The energy's old, but potent. Whoever it was—they lingered here."

Kite's steps slowed as he approached a slightly open door marked Staff Only.

"I really shouldn't go in there," he muttered to himself.

"Technically," Ai said, dry as dust, "you really shouldn't have a cosmic power source fused to your nervous system either, but here we are."

Kite sighed and slipped through the door.

The room inside hummed faintly with machinery. Projector systems blinked, vents lined the walls, and the scent of warm metal filled the air. At first, it looked normal. Dusty, sure—but not sinister.

Then Kite saw it.

Near the wall, a section of floor was scorched—charred black, as if something hot had kissed the tiles and left a mark. A nearby projector was warped, the casing melted slightly and wires inside twisted, some still singed.

"That's it," Ai said. "A surge of Rebellion energy. Whoever left it behind didn't hide it. Could've been anger—or carelessness. But it's strong."

Kite crouched beside the blackened spot, hand hovering.

"Don't touch it!" Ai snapped.

Kite jerked back. "What? Why?"

"Even the residue can mess with your mind. Rebellion energy sticks to emotion—especially the bad kind. That burn mark isn't just physical. It's emotional."

Kite stared, unnerved. The silence of the room wrapped tighter around him.

"What kind of person leaves something like this behind?" he asked quietly.

"Someone dangerous," Ai said. "And probably still close by. You didn't see anyone suspicious, did you?"

Kite shook his head. "No... but I wasn't exactly looking."

"Start looking. Whoever this was—they're not random. They're connected. The rooftop, the helmet, the stone. It's all part of something."

The creak of the door behind him froze him in place.

"...Kite?"

He turned sharply. Mr. Carson stood in the doorway, arms folded, face hard.

"What the hell are you doing in the control room?"

Kite jumped up, scrambling for a response. "I—I got lost! Thought this was the bathroom!"

Mr. Carson raised a skeptical brow. "In a locked control room?"

Kite tried again, fast. "I thought it was one of those interactive tech exhibits? The door was open, so I figured it was part of the tour?"

Mr. Carson stepped in, clearly not buying it. "This isn't a scavenger hunt, Mr. Connors. Get back with the group. Now."

"Right. Sorry." Kite edged past him, resisting the urge to sprint.

Back in the hallway, Ai exhaled. "Well. Could've gone worse. At least you didn't accidentally vaporize the projector."

Kite rubbed the back of his neck. "Someone was here, Ai. Someone with Rebellion energy."

"I know. And we'll deal with it. Just... try not to get expelled."

Kite didn't answer, but his heart was still thundering.

By the time he slipped back into the dome, the show was nearly over. William glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, but didn't say a word.

Kite sat down silently, eyes on the stars above—but his mind was racing. Not with galaxies or science, but with burn marks, lingering energy, and the heavy feeling that someone touched by Rebellion power had stood exactly where he was... and might not be far now.