Curios and Turning World

**CNM Headquarters **

"Day sixteen of what the internet has dubbed 'Lightning Watch,'" Patricia Chen announced, her professional concern now tinged with genuine confusion. "In a shocking development, the Luther Cross family has quietly withdrawn their hundred-million-dollar bounty for information on their son's whereabouts. Rumors that it wasn't their doing as they already have Jayden with them..."

The screen split to show financial analyst David Park.

"David, this makes no sense. Why would they stop looking for potentially the most powerful awakened of our generation?"

"Patricia, the markets are as confused as you are. Luther Cross Industries stock mysteriously stabilized three days ago, despite no news about Jayden. It's almost as if..." He paused, choosing words carefully. "As if they know something we don't."

"Or they've given up on their son entirely agd are just lying to us."

"With an Apex Grade talent? That would be corporate suicide."

The screen cut to footage of Marcus Luther Cross at a board meeting, shadows calm and controlled—a stark contrast to his explosive behavior just days ago.

"Whatever the reason," Patricia continued, "the remaining bounties from private sources still total over two hundred million. The question remains: Where is the Lightning Prince?"

*

Luther Cross Estate

Victoria Luther Cross stood at her husband's office door, light flickering with suppressed emotion.

"You called off the search." Not a question.

Marcus didn't look up from his documents. "I did."

"Why?"

"Because it's unnecessary." His shadows rippled with something that might have been satisfaction. "Our son will return when he's ready."

"You know where he is."

"I know where he isn't." Marcus finally met her gaze. "He isn't dead. He isn't captured. He isn't cowering in some hole. That's all that matters."

Victoria's light flared. "The board thinks we've abandoned him."

"Let them think." He returned to his papers. "When Jayden returns—and he will return—it will be on his terms. Forcing the issue would be... counterproductive."

"Since when do you care about his terms?"

Marcus smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. "Since he became valuable enough to matter."

In her room two floors up, Melody Luther Cross watched the exchange through security feeds, wings of energy flickering with agitation. Her brother, the cripple, had become the golden child overnight. Everything she'd worked for, every achievement, every perfect grade and executed mission—all overshadowed by his latent awakening.

She'd leaked the penthouse raid out of spite. Let him know there was nothing to come back to. Let him stay gone. The family hierarchy was perfect with him as the absent embarrassment, not the present god.

"Stay away, little brother," she whispered to her reflection. "For both our sakes."

*

Mozart's Office

Mozart—Kevin Kim to his mother, criminal mastermind to everyone else—studied his empire with satisfaction. Six monitors showed commodity prices, market movements, and profit margins that would make Fortune 500 CEOs weep with envy.

"Beautiful," he murmured, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses.

The low-level monster parts market was his. Completely, utterly his. Thunder Wolf cores that sold for $500 three weeks ago now commanded $2,000. Basic Storm Sprite essence? $5,000 per vial, up from $1,200.

New awakened were desperate. The established hunters hoarded their supplies. And Mozart sat in the middle, pulling strings like a conductor orchestrating a symphony of artificial scarcity.

His secure phone chimed. The courier service he'd contracted sent a single message: *Package delivered. Warehouse 7.*

Another shipment from his anonymous supplier. The third this week. Mozart pulled up the inventory list, eyes widening at the volume.

- Thunder Knight Cores (Level 18) x 47

- Volt Basilisk Complete Corpse x 3

- Tempest Eagle Alpha Feathers - 200 lbs

- Storm Elemental Essence - 50 gallons

- Stormforge Adamantine - 10 lbs (Holy shit)

Conservative estimate? Thirty million in raw materials. After processing and market manipulation? Triple that.

"Every three days like clockwork," Mozart mused. "You beautiful, profitable bastard."

He didn't need to hire bodyguards. Didn't need to muscle out competition. Why fight when you controlled the supply chain? Why intimidate when you could simply price everyone else out of existence?

The Yakuza had come calling last week. Not with threats, but with partnership offers. Even organized crime recognized when they were outclassed.

"Mozart-san," Takeshi Yamamoto had said, bowing slightly. "We propose a distribution partnership. Your supply, our network. Seventy-thirty split, your favor."

He'd accepted, of course. Why limit himself to one city when he could go national?

Another chime. Another delivery notification. This time, Warehouse 3.

Mozart laughed, pulling up delivery schedules. His anonymous supplier was clearing dungeons faster than most full teams. Wherever Jayden Luther Cross was hiding, he wasn't idle.

"Keep hunting, kid," Mozart said to his empty office. "We're going to be very, very rich."

*

Rico's Garage

Rico noticed the absence more than anything else.

No unmarked vans parked across the street. No "customers" who asked too many questions. No shadows moving in ways shadows shouldn't move. For the first time in two weeks, he was actually alone.

"They stopped watching," he told his GT-R, hands deep in the engine bay. "Why the fuck did they stop watching?"

His mom's medical bills had been mysteriously paid—not just current ones, but projected costs for the next two years. The anonymous benefactor had even upgraded her to a private room, better doctors, experimental treatments her insurance would never cover.

Mozart's doing, obviously. The money launderer had a soft spot for loyalty, and Rico had proven his.

But the Luther Cross surveillance vanishing? That was different. That was suspicious.

His phone—a new one, encrypted and clean—buzzed with a message from an unknown number:

*Family called off the dogs. Stay quiet, stay safe. Your boy's doing fine. -M*

Rico read it twice, then deleted it. Mozart knew where Jayden was. Had probably known for a while. And if the Luther Cross family had suddenly stopped looking...

"They know too," he muttered. "But how?"

A memory surfaced. Marcus Luther Cross's shadows filling his garage, the threat implicit. But also something else—a father who understood his son better than he let on.

"You sneaky fucking bastard," Rico said, almost admiringly. "You know exactly where he is. You're just letting him cook."

*

Department of Superhuman Affairs

"Fifteen dungeons cleared in two weeks."

Director Patricia Hawthorne stared at the report, disbelief evident. "That's impossible. These are Level 5 through 20 gates. They require full teams—"

"Ma'am," Agent Morrison interrupted, "the energy signatures are consistent. Same electrical pattern at every site. Solo clear, minimal time spent. Whoever's doing this is hitting a dungeon every 30-40 hours."

"Jayden Luther Cross."

"Almost certainly. The timing matches his disappearance. The electrical signatures match his awakening event. And..." Morrison pulled up financial data. "Mozart's monster parts empire started exactly when the clearances began."

Hawthorne leaned back, processing. "So our runaway Apex Grade is grinding dungeons like a video game and funding a criminal empire with the loot."

"Should we intervene?"

"With what authority? Dungeon diving isn't illegal. Selling monster parts isn't illegal. He's technically just... an extremely efficient hunter."

"An unregistered, uncontrolled Apex Grade hunter."

"Who hasn't hurt a single civilian." Hawthorne pulled up crime statistics. "In fact, electrical anomalies in LA are down since he vanished. Almost like he learned control."

Morrison frowned. "So we do nothing?"

"We wait. And we prepare. Because when Jayden Luther Cross decides to rejoin civilization, we need to be ready for whatever he's become."

*

Netfix Documentary Studios

"We need a new angle," Director Samantha Chen shouted at her team. "The Luther Cross family pulled out, public interest is waning, and we've got nothing but speculation!"

"What about the dungeon clearing theory?" an assistant suggested.

"Unconfirmed conspiracy bullshit."

"The underground connection?"

"No one will go on record."

"The other late bloomers?"

Samantha paused. Three teenagers had manifested powers in the last week, all citing Jayden's story as inspiration. One in Miami, one in Chicago, one in Seattle. All between fifteen and eighteen. All from families who'd written them off as powerless.

"That's our angle," she said slowly. "The Lightning Prince didn't just awaken his own power. He awakened hope in every null, every late bloomer, every kid who thought they were worthless."

"The Luther Cross Revolution," her assistant suggested.

"No. Better." Samantha smiled. "The Age of Second Chances. He proved the system wrong. Proved that Apex Grade could come from nowhere. How many other hidden gods are out there, waiting for their moment?"

*

Sterling Family Compound

"The Luther boy still hasn't surfaced," Diana Sterling informed her assembled family. "Their withdrawal of the bounty suggests they know his location."

"Or they've written him off," suggested her son, Maxwell. "Easier to disown him than admit their cripple became more powerful than their precious Marcus."

"Don't be naive," Diana's diamond skin caught the light. "Marcus Luther Cross doesn't abandon assets. He's playing a longer game."

"What game involves letting an untrained Apex Grade run wild?"

Diana smiled, cold and calculating. "The kind where you let your weapon forge itself in secret. Mark my words—when that boy returns, he won't be the same broken child they neglected."

"You sound almost impressed, mother."

"I am. It takes vision to see strength in apparent weakness. Marcus saw something we all missed." She stood, power radiating from her form. "When Jayden Luther Cross returns—and he will return—the balance of power shifts. Be ready."

*

Unknown Location

In a darkened room, screens displayed everything. Jayden's awakening. His disappearance. The dungeon clearances. Mozart's empire. The Luther family's withdrawal.

A figure watched it all, taking notes in a language that predated the written word.

"Apex Grade manifestation at seventeen. Unprecedented growth curve. New anomaly." They paused, considering. "Subject exceeds all projections."

They pulled up a file labeled "CONTINGENCY OMEGA" and added Jayden's name to a very short list.

"The age of heroes is ending," they spoke to the darkness. "The age of gods begins. And this one... this one bears watching."

The screens flickered with images of electrical storms, cleared dungeons, and a boy who'd disappeared to become something more.

Somewhere in the Angeles Forest, that boy was probably clearing another dungeon, unaware that his two-week absence had shifted the world's axis.

Or perhaps, very much aware, and simply not caring.

After all, gods rarely concerned themselves with mortal politics.

Until they were ready to.