A/N: Another flashback, another testament to Alex's future power.

"Alex, are you listening to me?"

I forced my eyes open. I heard a voice that I had not heard for at least a week. It was the voice of my brother, but it was the voice of his sixteen-year-old self.
I found myself resting my head on the cold window of the bus that transported me, my brother, the children of our neighbours and friends from our nearest bus stop to school.

I was in yet another dream.

Since the fateful summer day in 2005, I was nervous when travelling in buses. I had refused to use the bus as a method of transport for about three years, opting instead to use either the Underground or a taxi with either of my parents. However, the death of my mother was the catalyst for my developing maturity and need to face my fears.

"Sorry, I drifted off there, what were you saying?" I asked. My memory of this moment was a little hazy and so I required exposition.

"I was saying about the biology assessment we were doing today," Lewis said. This sentence was the catalyst that allowed me to finally find the memory of this moment, and it belonged to a day that contained an event to this day I question its true happening.

"You do know what we're doing, right?" Lewis questioned my readiness for the task.

"Y-yeah," I responded unconvincingly. My brother sighed in exasperation. I admit, sometimes I would fail him with my lack of preparedness, and in which I held no pleasure in doing, even in a comic manner.

"We're writing an essay on evolution," Lewis provided an unintentional reminder, having assumed that I had remembered at least the topic of the essay. Unfortunately, since the day it had been announced, the memory had lapsed due to the release of the superhero film 'Iron Man' at the local cinema. Instead of revising through my knowledge of the subject of the essay, I had spent my weekend engaging in an activity that could have been delayed to make way for the week I should have spent revising.

"Am I going to tell you what you must write... again?" Lewis concluded for himself with frustration poisoning his voice.

"Y-yeah..." I replied sheepishly. It was difficult to accept help as a man in this culture. It was not expected of men in this British society to accept emotional or physical support. We were expected to retain a 'stiff upper lip', and therefore, me initially staying quiet about my P.T.S.D. almost lead to my self-destruction. My family and friends had noticed a stark contrast in my personality following the terror attack, from the child who loved to explore and explicitly showed his love for his family and friends to a quiet and sometimes agitated teenager, who developed unproductive habits and turned into an introvert. I had learned that it was okay to talk and that no matter how bad one's situation is, there is always hope.

As the bus stopped and started through the morning rush hour, Lewis explained to me his plan and structure for the essay. Eventually, just as he concluded explaining his plan, the bus arrived at the closest bus stop to the school, which was a bland, nothing stop. It was only ever used for outbound journeys towards the school and was never used to get further into the city. There was no shelter or even timetable, just a dented sign and discoloured letter sign, which had turned a few shades lighter than the bright red it once was.

"You up for a quick game of football at either break or lunch?" I asked my brother. While football was not his primary concern, and therefore did not dedicate as much time to playing it, he was a decent competitor and competent technically. He enjoyed playing the sport but tended to dedicate more time to his studies and homework. I would argue that he should do homework at home instead, hence the name, but he would counter that to working on his homework wherever and whenever was the key to completing homework as quickly as possible. I did not agree, I believed that one should exact a balance between studies and leisure. However, my brother was stubborn, and to argue further would be futile.

"Maybe, it depends if we are set further homework," Lewis' reply was conducive to my prediction.

We joined a group of our friends in walking towards the main building, for there was the venue of our first lesson. However, our usual route would take us past an alley that was notorious for being the territory of the local 'roadmen'. This group of lowlifes consisted mainly of people who failed to achieve the grades required to progress to college and they believed that picking on children made them tough and fearsome. I saw past their exterior and saw them for idiotic and pathetic. We made our way past the alley carefully, fearing if the group was actually there, or still in their beds. It appeared that the latter was true, but seemingly out of nowhere, a few of the members of the gang jumped from the flat rooves of the two rows of garages that formed the alley. One each side, the men edged closer to us, causing the group to become denser and more compressed.

"Yo, Ade, what do we have here?" a tall black man sporting a full tracksuit and emitting a horrific stench of drugs and alcohol asked his associate. He was holding his hand against something around his back area. I wondered if it was him holding his oversized trousers in place, but in reality, it was something much more sinister.

"Y'know what, G? It looks like we got a bunch of ponce white boys," the man is known as Ade, who was equally tall, intimidating and awfully dressed, answered.

"Y'know, I think these pipsqueaks can help us with a little problem we have," the man known as G said.

"Yeah, man. We come from poor families, and I reckon these kids' fathers had a say in that," Ade bounced off the words of his friend.

"If you lot could be so kind as to help us out, you would bring honour to your mummies and daddies," G said with a mock curtsy.

"Like the honour you brought to your families when you dropped out of high school?" Lewis countered, and while it was an admirable showing of bravery and wit, it actually brought him further to harm.

Having been greatly offended by Lewis, Ade grabbed him by his tie, only to pick him up by the neck and restricting the amount of oxygen that could pass through his windpipe.

"No, stop!" I cried, almost rushing to push Ade down. My friends struggled to restrain me from potentially aggravating the situation.

"How dare you? Our people have struggled every day since the day your people found us, enslaved us, and through your fake equality, we remain below you in this society by your design," Ade yelled in the face of my brother.

My brother gasped and writhed against the wall he was held against. His captor reached behind his back, and from his baggy tracksuit jacket, he revealed an enormous knife. My heart fell to my stomach.

"Let's teach this little shit what it means to cross us. Let us give him a reminder of this day that will last forever," Ade's accomplice suggested, and Ade nodded in agreement.

The knife moved ever closer to penetrating the skin of my brother. If I did nothing, I would never forgive myself. However, I felt within me something brewing, something fueled by rage and fear, I knew not if it was natural or otherwise, and it terrified me. Something told me that I would have to unleash whatever this internal energy was to save my brother from being wounded. I didn't know how to unleash it, but the thought of blood being drawn from Lewis triggered the energy within, and after that, everything became a blur in which I could see nothing but blue. I felt myself moving at a great speed, I felt my arms hit something several times. It took a few seconds, and then I felt something sharp come into contact with my abdominal area, and then my vision turned to normal, and the scene that beheld me took my breath. Lewis was on the floor, coughing heavily and gasping for air that his lungs were deprived of for what I guessed was a minute.

I looked down the alley, and I saw one of the gang members leaning on the other as they both limped down the alley.

"What the hell happened?" I asked my friends, who all bore faces of dumbfoundedness and utter shock.

"Well, you sort of beat them up... but in a manner I didn't think was humanly possible," Connor Stephens said.

"Alex, you're bleeding!" another of my friends, Nicholas Johnson, gasped. I looked down to the bright red patch that stained the white shirt that I wore beneath the school's blazer. I rapidly unbuttoned the bottom few buttons to see how bad the apparent wound was. However, when I lifted the shirt, there was no injury. Only clear, peachy skin that gave no indication that it was cut. Did the blood belong to the people who confronted us? The way the blood had formed on my shirt would suggest that it was my blood that was drawn.

The day passed as usual for my friends, but for me, I could not concentrate on my studies. I barely subsidised enough concentration to complete the essay. It resulted in me achieving a lower grade than what was expected of me. My teachers and family noticed the change. They decided that it was not my P.T.S.D., for therapy sessions had helped to alleviate the tight grip it had on my life. I hadn't had a suicidal thought or nervous breakdown in a year. I tortured myself having to keep the secret. I wasn't sure if revealing my strange phenomenon would expose me to possible exploitation or unwanted attention.

I hadn't heard of the fate of the people who attacked Lewis. However, I would come across more gangsters who were associated with them.

I was returning from an executing an errand set by my father to purchase groceries from the local supermarket. Any logical route I would take would always lead me to an alley known to be the territory of the gang that had attacked Lucas. Therefore, I made my way to the supermarket via a different route, one that would lead me to a disused railway bridge that was converted to a public footpath, and from there, I would take the footpath and it would lead me to the supermarket. While it made my journey six minutes longer, it made me feel safer.

However, as I made my way to enter the automatic doors, my iPhone vibrated in the pocket of my jeans. As I was crossing the main road into the car park, I waited before I could check what notification that my iPhone had alerted me too. Stepping into a shadowed area beneath a canopy so that the brightness of the screen would not be cancelled out by the sunlight, I extracted my smartphone, and as I unlocked it, I saw that the notification was a text message from my brother.

'alex get home now need hlp'

I knew this to be unlike what my brother would usually type. He would always text in the correct grammar and use correct spellings, appropriate and politically correct terminology. Something was very wrong, and he was evidently pressured to submit the text. I disregarded my original task, checked the road to see if any oncoming cars would delay me.

I ran.

I pushed my thighs into the ground with every stride, and ran like an Olympic sprinter. I cared not if I looked out of order, but for all I knew at that moment, my brother could have been in trouble. As I rounded the corner onto the main road, even as the vehicles were travelling at the speed limit, at a time when the roads were relatively clear considering the city in which I lived, I ran at a greater speed than they were permitted to travel. I did not then heed it, but thinking about it now, I would compare the phenomenon to the two times in which my family in the Pride Lands had been endangered.

I took the usual route, wanting to get to my home as soon as possible. I thought of the quickest way for me to extract my keys and to put them into the keyhole.
However, as I approached the infamous alley, a man remained in my path even as I grew rapidly closer. I decelerated, not wishing to crash into him, cause anyone undue pain and cause a hindrance to my pursuit. However, by the time I had stopped, I was standing face to face with the man. I could see now that he was wearing a grey hoodie, with the hood covering his eyes. I could see that he had dark skin and was holding his hands behind his back.

"C'mon, man. I need to help my brother," I revealed, unsure why I went into such private detail.

"Let me help you with that," he offered. However, I immediately knew this offer to be false, as he extracted a bladed article from his back, pointed it at me and motioned for me to walk into the alley. It was floored with poorly laid tarmac, the gaps through which grew weeds.

As I walked further into the alley, we came to an intersection with another alley. It was lined on the left with garage doors, most of which had obscene graffiti, and to the right was an equally decorated wall. I saw at the end of the alley a car, and I heard that the engine was running. My eyes came upon a group of hoodlums, one of which had a baseball bat, another had a gun. When I saw this, my heart sank, like it did the other day.

"Sup man? So kind of you to join us," one of the hoodlums said with mock sincerity.

"Fuck you," I bluntly replied, unsure if this would land me in a deeper hole of trouble than I was at that moment.

"Oh, now that won't do. Your parents wouldn't want to hear you saying that now, would they?" the man who forced me to walk down the alley said. I flipped him off.

"My mother's dead."

"Oh, shit, man, I'm sorry," the man behind me said with a surprising amount of sympathy.

"Enough of this. You disrespected us. And now, you are going to pay. Literally."

"Ain't that right, Ade?" the gun-wielding hoodlum spoke up.

"What do you want? Money?" I guessed.

"Nah, that won't do. We want to humiliate you. We see you as an opportunity, we want everyone to know that we are fed up with white boys like you bossing us about like it's the 1950s. We're tired of being at the back of the queue, we're tired of being ignored, we're tired of seeing people like you, thinking you're Mr Tony Stark while we act as the floor you walk upon," the man known as Ade spoke.

"Well, what good will that do if you do it here? Why not do it somewhere like Trafalgar Square?" I questioned them, hoping to buy time.

"Let's see how you like it when you're forced to make the hard decisions," the bat-wielding hoodlum said as he opened the garage in the path of the car.

To my utter horror, I saw my brother tied to a chair, bleeding from the nose and a wound on his head. There was much blood on his white shirt and light blue jeans. His blonde hair corrupted by scarlet.

"What the fuck?" I cried. I heard Lewis' pained muffled cry for me.

"I'll make it simple for you. We do to you what we did to your brother, or that car over there goes a little too far in the garage."

At first, it seemed that my choice was impossible. I did not know how badly they would assault me. They claimed that they would replicate the severity of their attack on Lucas.

"Alright then. Hit me, do your worst," I baited them. I wondered if the incident in which my world turned blue and had successfully fended off the attackers would manifest itself once more. However, I am one who will fight back.

I caught in my palm a fist that attempted to fight me. I countered by punching him in the face.

The bat-wielding hoodlum swung his weapon, but not before I could dodge it and redirect it into his face.

Having seen the pathetic performance of his soldiers, the leader of the gang ordered for his remaining soldiers to advance.

"C'mon, he's just a kid!" he cried.

"I suppose you feel so tough right now," I mocked. They only felt tough enough to batter weak and defenceless children who would not fight back.

I fought off the attackers until there were too many of them to fight. Three became four, five became six. I was soon on the floor being kicked repeatedly and mercilessly. Was this what my brother had endured before they kidnapped him? His appearance would not suggest that he was attacked for as long as I was.

"Yo, that's enough," I heard one of them say.

"Now for the icing on the cake. We never got to prick him, so let's prick you," Ade decided. I felt numb. I could not move. I was covered in a veil of pain.

I felt something cold and sharp penetrate my stomach. Something inside of me broke and my world turned blue once more.

A monstrous urge inside of me made me scream. The urge was fueled by my desire to protect my brother. My scream was loud enough for them to cover their ears.

My scream seemed to replenish my energy and I got up to incapacitate my foes. A punch was enough to send them flying back by ten feet. What action I did do, I did it at a speed that I had not yet experienced. I effortlessly dispatched my attackers without knowing what I was doing. It was as if I had unlocked years worth of skills and training with a snap of a finger.

As I continued to incapacitate them, the gun-wielding hoodlum aimed at me, his fear causing his arms to tremble.

BANG

I felt the bullet penetrate my lower back. I felt it cut through my flesh and exit my body. I could see the bullet drop to the floor, coated in my blood, but as I looked down to examine my wound, but I saw that it was closing before my very eyes. Fresh skin replaced the damaged flesh and the stream of blood that was leaving the wound was ended.

I turned around to see the last gangsters run for their lives. They would be wise to leave my family alone, and that is what they did.

However, as the unnatural energy began to leave my body, I heard the engine of the car revving up and accelerate. They were going to crush my brother.

"NO!" I cried as I ran towards the intersection. My pace was not to its fullest extent as it was earlier, but it was still greater than what I was used to.

I did arrive at the intersection, but at the same moment, so did the car. I crept down into the fetal position to brace the impact.

The car ploughed into me, but the replenished super energy increased my strength to withstand the momentum, so much so that it performed the first half of a front flip before the ground got in the way.

However, despite my strength, the impact took a toll on me. While I did stop the car, the momentum did cause me to fall onto my side and I was left fighting to regain consciousness. However, it was a losing battle as I fell into unconsciousness.

"Alex?" Sarabi asked me as my eyes gently opened.

"Alex, are you okay?" Simba asked, nuzzling my cheek. I stroked him as I adjusted my body to face them respectfully.

"Yeah... just another dream," I replied with weariness poisoning my voice.

"You were making weird... growly noises in your sleep," Simba said.

"Do not worry, my brother. I'm fine," I kissed him on the forehead.

"Do you want to play with me and my friends again?" Simba asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah, sure," I accepted to Simba's delight. "Let me just get ready."

Simba ran off to find his friends while I chose the clothes that I would wear that day. As I was intending on visiting my relatives in South Africa for a few nights, my clean clothes were beginning to run thin. However, as I clothed myself with a vest and a pair of shorts, I remembered my brief interval between two periods of sleep during the previous night. The first spell culminated in a dream in which I was surrounded by fire, holding onto a tall cliff with my left hand. I looked below and saw before me an endless abyss of fire and darkness. I looked up again and saw a shadowy figure in the form of a lion and to my horror, the hand that kept me alive disappeared.

I recovered from the dream by drinking water and observing the stars from inside the cave. It was then that I remembered that, unlike the cave, where I could see as if light was flooding through it, whereas Simba and Nala, who had the advanced eyesight of their species, could not see, the lack of light was conducive with the time of day and the environment in which I was sitting. I also remembered my vision in which the voice told me that I would see through the darkness that was not natural.

I concluded that there was a darkness that was not natural in that cave, or at least near it, and it did not wish to be seen.

"My loyal lieutenant," Ibilisi's spirit spoke. While he was sitting on his dark throne in his dark tower, his human form was not a physical entity that interacted with the world of the living. He was but a spirit but was very much powerful.

"Yes, my Lord?" Scar answered.

"It is time for you to disrupt the path of The Guardian. His growth shall be thwarted by your interruption of the monarchy. I bid you good fortune in your pursuit for the Pride Lands," Ibilisi declared.

"I am grateful, my Lord. No longer shall we hide in the shadows while the weak are protected by the foolish. They shall soon see that the powerful are meant to control, the weak are meant to serve, those who defy will be destroyed. Long may you rule over the Universe," Scar bowed before leaving the Dark Tower to execute his plan. He headed in the direction of the gorge where his father died. He intended to rid the world of the Royal Family.

A/N: Well, then. Looks like the plot is about to take a turn for the worse. Brace yourself for emotions for the next few chapters.