The night felt deathly silent now, the booming calamities that once violently resonated in the air were no longer. All that was left was silence. That quiet felt oppressive to Brookpaw, limping behind Rowanpaw. Occasionally, he would look behind them to make sure that Silverpaw wasn't following them. However, the older of the two cats didn't pay any attention to what was behind them, his hazel eyes fixed permanently to what was in front of him.

The air between them was static with tension. Brookpaw knew that he was to blame for it, his reckless actions had almost cost him his own life. Now, Rowanpaw had essentially placed a ban on his powers. From now on, under no circumstance was Brookpaw allowed to use his powers. It was inevitable that Brookpaw's prohibition would eventually be lifted. Rowanpaw was capable and independent but even he knew how arduous it would be facing four metas on his own.

However, the day Brookpaw would be trusted once again would be a long time away.

"Do you know where Hollypaw is?" the dark ginger cat asked suddenly.

He snapped out of his daydreaming. "Oh? I dunno. We got separated." Brookpaw answered sheepishly. The tom couldn't help but take note of his fellow apprentice's tone. It was very akin to how he used to sound back in the mountains. Rowanpaw wasn't talking down to him, however it was clear he viewed him as a nuisance. A dead weight.

Brookpaw couldn't even muster the energy to be offended by that notion - he knew there was some truth behind it. It was for this reason that he knew he had to get a grip of his powers. Going all out was never a viable strategy in the first place, but now he could clearly see it wasn't just reckless; but extremely dangerous too. He almost took his own life in the process of fighting Silverpaw. He didn't even land a hit.

The tom didn't understand how the she-cat was so resistant to his powers. Maybe Rowanpaw could shed some light on it. "Hey, Al." he mewed.

"What?" the tom replied.

"There was something weird about that she-cat."

"Weird?"

"Yeah. Like, her powers made mine useless. It wasn't a second power or anything, it's just like. . .I dunno how to explain it. Like she just absorbed the shock I guess."

For a moment, Rowanpaw didn't reply. "Could be that, 'cause mercury is extremely dense, it absorbed the shock of the hit."

In Brookpaw's mind, something just clicked. He was pretty thin, that might be why his powers were harmful to him. His body simply couldn't handle the shock. Perhaps if he bulked up then his body would be able to handle its powerful output. Excitedly, he began, "Al! Do you think if I-"

"When I said you weren't gonna use your powers again - I meant it." came his companion's cold and firm response.

"It isn't fair!" He protested. "You can't take all four of them on your own and I'm not just gonna sit here after what they've done to my parents!"

Rowanpaw snapped, whipping around to face the younger apprentice. In that moment, the blue-gray tom wished he hadn't opened his mouth after getting a look of the smouldering anger in his friend's hazel eyes.

"Not fair? Not fair?! You wanna know what's not fair? Me having to watch you tear yourself to pieces again and again and watching never learn your fucking lesson! Your powers are too dangerous for you to use, but you just carry on because Al's here to save you. Well guess what? I'm not gonna be around forever, Jordan. Some day, you might have to fight someone on your own and I won't be there to help you. And guess what, Jordan? You're going to die because you keep fucking tearing yourself to pieces!"

Brookpaw could only stare with wide shocked eyes, his mouth ajar.

"Do you think I wanna watch you do that? Do you?"

Brookpaw remained silent.

"Answer me!" growled Rowanpaw.

"N-no." He weakly answered, his voice shaking.

The dark ginger tabby snorted at him, beginning to calm down yet his tone was still harsh. "That's why you're never using your powers again. I can't trust you not to kill yourself and I can't be your crutch any longer. We don't know what your stunt did to you - you might not be able to use them at all now anyways. But I'm not taking any more chances with you."

He turned around, continuing to follow the river as Brookpaw lagged behind. The remainder of their trek was done in complete silence. Thick, uncomfortable silence. The apprentice had never seen him so angry before. He knew he had a temper, but that had been unexpected and he was still shaking from Rowanpaw's verbal beating.

However, despite the sting from his words, they held truth.

The blue-gray cat had been dependent on Rowanpaw, hoping that he could take out the enemy with pure brute force and his friend would heal him afterwards. He was putting his own life on the line just to win. That had to come to an end. Brookpaw felt a shining determination within him, he would learn how to use his powers properly. However, he couldn't allow the dark red tabby to know.

The two ThunderClan cats continued onwards in that uncomfortable silence. Occasionally, Brookpaw would look back the way they came, now to find that nothing was following them. Eventually, they both came to a stop. "Hollypaw's scent's here." stated Rowanpaw. He looked off to the west, "keeps going in that direction. Let's move."

And so they did.

"Do you have any idea why your powers are so wild, Jordan?" the dark ginger tom suddenly spoke.

"Uh. . .not really, no."

"My ex was a medical student, the last time I checked she was doing a thesis on metahumans for her masters."

"Oh! That's Rebecca, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"She gave that antibody power too, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Brookpaw laughed. "You know, that's kinda fitting that a medical student has a power that heals people."

"I guess so. Anyways, she told me about something called Singularity Syndrome; I'm pretty sure you have it."

As the blue-gray tom's features twisted in concern, he could feel anxiety gnaw at his stomach. Singularity Syndrome? He had never heard of that before. Was it terminal? "W-what's that?" he anxiously questioned. He wasn't sure he would like the answer.

"It's sort of like a disease for us, I guess," Rowanpaw started off. "Our meta gene produces proteins that lets us have our powers, but some people have mutated proteins and that causes problems. In your case, powers that're way too strong and improper resistance to them."

Brookpaw nodded slowly, digesting this new information. It made a lot of sense to him. He never understood why his powers were just that strong, holding enough force behind each hit to mutilate him. The apprentice simply thought that's how things were.

Until Rowanpaw came along, proving his belief wrong. If what Brookpaw experienced was universal, then why wasn't his friend covered in burn scars?

"So I've got Singularity Syndrome?"

"Looks like it," concluded Rowanpaw. "That's another why you're not getting to use your powers anymore. You just can't without mauling yourself. You physically can't handle it."

Suddenly, it felt like everything Brookpaw had planned suddenly evaporated. It lost its meaning. How was he supposed to use his powers now when his body simply physically couldn't handle them? The dark ginger tom was, once again, right. It looked like he would simply have to accept that there was no controlling his powers.

Now, Brookpaw simply didn't know what to do with himself.

Suddenly Rowanpaw stopped. "You smell that?" he asked.

The blue-gray tom scented the air, slightly parting his maw. He smelled it alright, his nose wrinkled in response. The scent was like stale sweat, chemicals too. Despite how artificial that part of the scent was, it was still pleasant - compared to the other aspect of it, anyways. Was there people nearby? That chemical smell must be deodorant or cologne if that was true.

"There's people nearby."

"Yeah. Probably has to do with the cottage fire."

"That happened months ago, though."

"Still an ongoing investigation, I'd think." responded Rowanpaw, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. "I mean, they're probably looking for anything to suggest where the murder might've gone - even if he's right under their noses."

There was something so somber about that, thought Brookpaw. The culprit was never far away from the crime scene, yet they would never find him. Sootpaw was probably watching them toil from the trees, a spiteful smile on his face. The image made him sick to his stomach.

"Do you think they forced RiverClan out of their camp?" asked Brookpaw.

"Yes, they did." a voice responded.

Immediately, the blue-gray tom jumped as he had not expected the sudden company. However, he recognised the voice. Rowanpaw spun around, his front paws covered in neon and ready for a fight. Though once he saw the black she-cat, fearfully staring at him with wide, green eyes, he relaxed. Immediately, he rushed over to her.

"Hollypaw! Are you alright?" he questioned, nosing through her fur to find any wounds.

Hollypaw nodded. "I-I'm okay, I just got separated from Brookpaw." she replied, then she got a look at the tom in question and concern flashed across her face. "What happened to you?" she asked.

"Uh..." the tom stumbled.

"He just took a bad tumble, that's all." he dismissed.

Brookpaw felt relief wash over him. "Yeah, I just fell into the river. I'm fine, thanks for checking." He smiled at her. The she-cat smiled in return.

"We gotta go now," Rowanpaw urged, "I only came to find you two, now let's scram before the-"

"-but what about RiverClan?!" Hollypaw protested, "we need to find out why they're not in their own camp."

"We know," he curtly responded, "twolegs; we scented them nearby. It'll be a temporary thing, they'll be back in their camp soon." suddenly, the dark ginger tom recoiled. "Jesus! Holly, why do you reek?!"

Hollypaw sheepishly shuffled her paws. "I-I had to hide from a RiverClan patrol and. . .and. . .um." she faltered.

"it's okay, you just gotta wash yourself off. They're probably long gone by now." he reassured her.

Brookpaw felt the corners of his lips twitch, forming a brief, small smile. It seemed that Rowanpaw had a soft spot for Hollypaw.

"Oh, don't worry about them," a new voice responded, "I saw them heading back into camp. You're all in the clear. You're free to tell ThunderClan all about how you know about the twolegs who forced them out of camp. Perfect opportunity to take some of their territory for your own, right?"

The three ThunderClan cats froze. They slowly turn around, only to find a RiverClan patrol glaring at them all - the battered Silverpaw was among them. Every instinct Brookpaw had told him to run, yet it felt as if his body was frozen solid. He was a deer caught in headlights. He wouldn't be able to make it very far anyways, unless he wanted to make his wounds worse.

A blue-gray she-cat stepped out from the group, staring them down. "Come with us, if you would."