I hovered on the edge of consciousness, my body screaming in every nerve. The world around me was a mess of muffled sounds bleeding together, dulled by the fog in my brain. Then, cutting through the haze, came voices.

"Got the file on our subject from Investigations." Langley's voice said. "Time to see what we're dealing with."

The soft rustling of paper reached my ears as they delved into the file.

"The address field is empty," Stirling noted disapprovingly. "Incredible. How does Legal consistently manage to fail at the most basic protocols?"

"Possibly deliberate," Langley replied evenly. "Could be tied to the informant's terms of disclosure. Confidentiality clause, perhaps."

Another pause. More paper shuffled. Then Stirling let out a quiet, intrigued hum.

"Interesting… very interesting." A soft crinkling noise followed. "Look at this article. 'A mysterious death: man scorched alive in a freak accident.' Poor chap got incinerated beyond recognition. Tragic, really."

The words hit me like a slap, echoing in my head but refusing to settle.

"Scorched alive?" Langley cut in again. "Wait. Didn't the informant mention something about the subject exhibiting early pyrogenic vision. If that holds true, then..."

I strained against the fog of my mind, trying to piece together what they weren't saying outright.

"You think…" Stirling hesitated. "No, it's improbable. A coincidence, surely."

"Consider the implications," Langley said quietly. "If the subject was responsible for the combustion event, could the victim have been... could it have been the subject's old man?"

The words slammed into me, my stomach churning violently. What the hell were they saying? No. No fucking way. They couldn't mean that.

"Christ," Stirling muttered. "If that's accurate… That's beyond vile. This fundamentally alters our understanding of the subject."

Oh, God. No. Dad. They were talking about Dad. The man I'd spent years grieving, imagining him as a victim of stress and bad genes. A heart attack. That's what Mom always said. That's what she told me.

But what if she lied?

I couldn't breathe. My chest felt like it was being crushed under a thousand pounds of guilt, regret, and something worse. Something dark and unspeakable. A part of me, some sick, buried part I'd been trying to outrun my whole life, had always feared this. Feared what I was capable of. Feared that the monster in me wasn't just a possibility, but a reality.

And now, here it was, laid bare by two strangers who didn't even care.

"Assuming validity, this raises troubling questions," Stirling mused. "How much of this is innate, and how much is environmental influence?"

Langley cut in sharply. "Focus, Stirling. Let's not extrapolate. Premature conclusions benefit no one, we need more data."

More data? They talked about me like I was a fucking specimen under a microscope. Like Dad's life, my life, was just another experiment for their goddamn spreadsheets. They didn't see the kid in their report. They didn't care about the boy who'd cried himself to sleep every night after the funeral, praying for his dad to come back.

Memories surged like a flood. Mom's tear-streaked face at the funeral. "It wasn't your fault, honey." she'd whispered. "His heart just gave out."

She lied. She had to have known. How could she not?

And what did that make me? A killer?

Images flashed behind my closed eyes. My father, or what little I remembered of him, red-faced and yelling. The smell of something burning, something awful. Fire licking at the edges of a memory I'd buried so deep I'd almost forgotten.

How could Mom bear to look at me, to keep calling me her son, after what I'd done? I wasn't a boy. I wasn't even human. I was a walking nightmare. A monster she should've left in the dirt the first chance she got. But instead, she endured, paying the price with a lifetime of pain.

Langley's detached voice pulled me back. "This incident, if corroborated, would require a full reevaluation of the subject's control thresholds. It could redefine our entire approach."

I wanted to scream, to tell them to shut the hell up, to stop tearing open truths I wasn't ready to face. But my body refused to move. My eyes stayed sealed shut, my limbs nothing more than useless dead weights. All I could do was lie there, drowning under the weight of their words.

The truth wrapped around me like chains, dragging me down into darkness. I wasn't just cursed. I wasn't just dangerous. I was a fucking murderer.

I drifted awake slowly, every inch of me still aching. My chest felt hollow, like my heart had been ripped out and replaced with nothing but cold, empty space. Though that pain had nothing to do with the collar or the table I was chained to.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," Dr. Langley's voice sliced through the fog of my thoughts, jolting me from my groggy state. "You've given us quite a scare. And a word of caution, if you get handsy with that collar, the security mechanism will zap you with double the dose. It will put you out like a light."

I cracked my eyes open, glaring at him through the blur. He didn't seem fazed, just held out a soda can like we were pals sharing a drink. "Here, take this."

Thirst parched my throat, my tongue darting over my chapped lips. I instinctively reached for the can, only for the shackles to yank me back. I scowled. "How the hell am I supposed to drink this?"

Langley's smirk widened. "Crush it."

Really? Crush this, crush that, were they serious? I had half a mind to show him what I could really crush. Starting with that smug face of his. Trapped here like a lab rat, and now they wanted me to perform circus tricks on command?

"I just want to go home," I declared flatly.

"Sorry, but you'll have to put in a bit more effort if you want your freedom," the doctor shot back, leaning against a nearby console. "The alternative isn't exactly a picnic, I assure you."

I ground my teeth, weighing my options. The collar's intensity had eased, a calculated mercy for this little sideshow. The can sat in my palm, its flimsy aluminum surface cool against my skin. It felt fragile. Like a single flex of my fingers could turn it into a jagged little ball. Heck, at this level I was pretty sure I could snap these restraints, toss the whole table across the room, and make Langley regret every second of his existence.

Tempting as it was, the collar held the threat of agony if I dared to cross their invisible boundaries. A risk I wasn't quite ready to take. Not yet. I needed a plan.

"Fine," I muttered, feigning reluctance. "Let's get this over with." I pressed my hand to the can, letting my jaw tighten, my face twist in mock effort. A lifetime of pretending I wasn't different had made me a good actor. The aluminum buckled slightly, just enough to sell it.

"See?" I muttered. "Just your average guy. Miracles are off the menu, sorry to disappoint."

The doctor's expression darkened. He sighed heavily, like I was the biggest inconvenience he'd ever dealt with. "Oh, kid, if only you had been a little more cooperative..."

With a flick of a switch, he cranked up the collar's power. Agony ripped through me, my muscles seizing, my vision blurring at the edges. But I bit down on the pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me beg.

Through the haze, I saw him gesture to someone outside. The door hissed open, and a stocky guy with darting, nervous eyes shuffled in. "Gary, lend me a hand with the table," Langley ordered curtly. Gary nodded, avoiding my gaze as he adjusted the platform. With a metallic click, the wheels unlocked.

They started pushing me down the hallway, Langley close on Gary's heels. Glass walls lined the corridors, each room revealing flashes of white lab coats and glowing monitors.

I strained to push my vision outward, desperate for a glimpse of the outside world. But the damn necklace thwarted my efforts, rendering my powers useless.

My attention snagged on the ID badge clipped to Gary's shirt. "S.T.A.R. LABS, GARY BROOKFIELD."

A chill ran down my spine. Star Labs? The name triggered a fragment of memory. Helena. She had mentioned that place before.

The corridors stretched endlessly until we reached a massive chamber, its steel walls towering high above me. The space felt like an arena, with mirrors lining the upper walls. One-sided, no doubt hiding the bastards watching from behind the glass.

Langley and Gary wheeled me to the center, positioning the table with precision. They tilted it slightly, like setting up an exhibit. Langley adjusted his glasses, casting a quick glance at Gary before turning back to me. For a second, pity flashed in his eyes, but it vanished, swallowed by something darker.

"Good luck, kid," he muttered, "Oh, and I wouldn't advise attempting any grand escapes. The collar's got enough juice to put you into a coma." The heavy door slammed shut behind them, sealing me in.

I groaned, my head still throbbing. But soon, the pain began to recede. The restraints snapped open with a loud clank, and I hit the floor hard. My legs buckled like they forgot how to work, and for a second, I just lay there, the cold metal of the floor pressing into my skin.

Pain pulsed through me in dull waves, but it was manageable. The collar wasn't cranked to its usual 'make you wish for death' setting, so thanks, Langley, for your generosity, I guess.

Slowly, shakily, I pushed myself to my feet.

The arena's steel walls towered around me, every exit sealed tight. Langley's warning echoed in my head, but so did the desperate need to get out. I had to find a way. If I could muster enough strength, I could try for the door, maybe even the walls. But I had to be fast, before they had a chance to crank the collar again.

But before I could act, the door hissed open again. And there, filling the threshold, stood a mountain of a man wearing a collar of his own. He was a behemoth, easily towering over 6'8", with muscles that looked like they were ready to burst through his skin. One look at him, and it felt like he could snap me in half, and let's just say I'm not exactly the breakable type.

Every step he took carried this unsettling weight, like the floor itself flinched beneath him. His face was obscured by an intricate mask, tubes and valves connecting to some mechanical contraption strapped to the back of his head. Only his piercing eyes were visible, boring into my soul like I was on trial for all my sins.

Trust me when I say that there are few things in this world that have the power to make me flinch. Well, except maybe my own monstrous self. But I'd be lying if I said he didn't make my gut churn. I felt weakened by the collar, and this behemoth looked like he could crush me without even trying. Funny how fast the tables turn.

"Hah! So, you're the big menace they warned me about?" The man's laughter boomed through the chamber. "Pathetic," he jeered, sizing me up with a dismissive glance.

I clenched my teeth. No way I was giving this overgrown science project the satisfaction of a response. Taking crap from people had become second nature to me, courtesy of Jake's special brand of parenting.

He strode closer, his shadow swallowing me whole. That smug grin on his face made my blood boil, but I swallowed the anger.

"Well, let's see what you're made of," he growled.

And just like that, he lunged.

His hand clamped onto my shoulder, and for a second, I thought he was going to crush it into powder. Before I could react, he hurled me across the room like I weighed nothing. The world blurred, and I slammed into the wall like a truck going 90, leaving a dent in the steel. Sparks rained down as I slid to the floor in a heap.

Pain flared in my back and ribs, but I swallowed it. The collar wasn't biting as hard, and I'd taken worse. Hell, I'd caused worse. But I couldn't let him see that. Not with the bastards behind the one-sided mirrors watching every move.

I groaned and slowly forced myself to my feet, playing up the act. The man was already closing the distance with a menacing stride. His eyes narrowed. "Look at you," he sneered, "You shouldn't even be able to stand after a hit like that."

Unfazed by my silence, he threw a punch, and damn, it was fast. I ducked at the last second, and his fist smashed into the wall behind me, leaving a web of cracks. He pulled back, shaking his hand with a curse. "You little worm!" he spat. "I'm gonna make you regret that!"

With a subtle burst of speed, I dodged his next lunge, sidestepping just enough to let him crash into the wall. Dust and debris rained down, coating him in a layer of gray.

"Seems like you've hit a wall," I said, smirking despite myself.

His roar practically shook the room. He came at me with a kick that slammed into my chest. Hard. Air exploded out of my lungs as I flew backward, skidding across the floor like a bag of bricks. Every muscle screamed in protest, but I stayed down, biting back the urge to fight.

"C'mon," he jeered, stalking toward me. "All that yap and no fight? What a goddamn joke."

He grabbed me by the neck and hauled me off the floor like I weighted nothing. His breath came out in harsh rasps through the mask. "Let's see how long you last," he growled, shoving me back against the wall.

His fist came down like a hammer, slamming into my chest with enough force to shake my teeth. I staggered, letting my knees buckle just enough to sell it.

Another punch. Then another. Each blow thundered through me, shaking the room. I let him have his fun. The collar dulled the worst of it, but not enough to make me forget what he was doing. Each blow reverberated through my body, a sickening rhythm of flesh meeting bone. But I stayed silent, biting back the rage bubbling just under the surface.

"Such a menace, yet you crumble like a weakling," he sneered, "Is this the best you've got, pretty boy?"

The man's grin widened, he thought he had broken me. Oh, I wanted to hit him. Inside I was boiling. But the Bat's voice echoed in my head. Stay in control.

"You're nothing," he spat. "Just a weakling with powers you can't control."

Oh, great. He'd read my file. Or maybe he just had someone whisper it in his ear between protein shakes. Either way, it hit the nerve he was aiming for. But I swallowed the rage. Barely.

With a ferocious tackle, he brought me crashing to the ground. His fists rained down upon me, each blow crashing like thunder. Instinctively, I raised my forearms to shield my face from the onslaught.

Then he leaned in close enough to whisper. "I heard what you did to your daddy," he said. "Such a shame." The corner of his mouth curled into a cruel smirk.

His words landed like a lit match, turning my blood to fire. Heat surged behind my eyes, barely held back by the thinnest thread of control. All I wanted in that moment was to reduce this faceless behemoth to a pile of smoldering ashes.

"You fucking piece of trash," I hissed.

He threw another punch, but I caught it mid-swing. My fingers wrapped around his knuckles, and I squeezed. Hard. The crunch of bones breaking under my grip was sickeningly satisfying. His eyes went wide, shock flashing across his face. That look almost made the restraint I'd shown until now worth it.

Pinned beneath his weight, I shoved him back, and he stumbled, his hulking form crashing into the floor. He scrambled to his feet, roaring in fury.

"Here's some advice," I growled, stalking toward him as he dragged himself up. "Back the fuck off. Unless, of course, you want to be pounded into a bloody, unrecognizable pulp."

Through the deceptive mirror, I caught the spark of crimson fire in my eyes.

"Like hell!" he roared, charging towards me once again.

But I'd had enough. Enough of playing nice. I didn't care about the consequences. I didn't feel a thing.

My fist connected with his chest, the impact lifting him off the ground and sending him hurtling into the metal table.

"You'll pay for that," he growled, rising from the wreckage, wiping a trickle of blood from his split lip. "I'm gonna make you suffer."

"You're welcome to try," I met his threat with an icy stare.

He lunged, but I was faster. I grabbed him mid-charge, twisting his momentum against him, and slammed him into the floor. The metal groaned under the force, cracks spidering out beneath him. He struggled, but I didn't let go. Sparks crackled from the device strapped to his back.

"Oh, we've got Daddy issues, huh?" he taunted as blood dripped from his split lip. "No wonder you're such a—"

I didn't let him finish. My fist drove into his mask, the metal warping under the force of the hit. A sliver of his face was exposed. Enough to see the fear creeping into his eyes. He gasped, and I followed up with a brutal headbutt, shattering the rest of it. Blood sprayed, and he let out a guttural scream.

I didn't give him time to recover. Grabbing him by the front of his suit, I hauled him up and drove him back, slamming him into the wall so hard the dent from earlier deepened.

"Who's the weakling now?" I snarled.

He thrashed against my grip, but I held firm, my fingers digging into his flesh like iron clamps. He chuckled, blood staining his teeth as he forced out a laugh. "You think you can stop me? We're more alike than you think."

"That's where you're dead wrong," I spat.

With all the strength I'd been holding back, I hurled him across the chamber. His massive frame sailed through the air like a ragdoll before slamming into the far wall with a deafening impact. The steel buckled and cracked under the force, pieces of the wall caving in as his body disappeared into the wreckage.

Behind the one-sided mirror, the scientists' voices buzzed. Fascinated by their little experiment.

"Remarkable," Dr Stirling breathed. "The subject's strength defies all known parameters. It's as if he draws power from the very essence of anger."

"His aggression, you mean," Langley corrected. "But this isn't enough. We need to push him further. Collect more—"

"Oh spare me the academic dithering," another deeper voice cut through. "We must make him ready for deployment. That's all that matters."

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. That voice. The one from Jake's phone call. The one that barked orders in the dark when they hauled me out of my life and into this nightmare.

My head snapped toward the mirrored wall, my fists curling at my sides. I didn't need X-ray vision to know who was behind it. But I used it anyway.

The reflective surface dissolved, giving me a clear view of the gray-haired doctor. Beside him stood Dr. Langley. But amidst the known faces, I spotted a third figure, a man in a military uniform.

It all clicked then. The abduction. The collar. The experiments. He was the puppeteer. The bastard pulling every string.

Anger flooded my veins, crushing everything in its path. My hands curled into fists. If my cover was blown, so be it. I wasn't playing their game anymore.

I didn't think. One second I was standing there, and the next, the air cracked as I launched forward. The mirror exploded around me in a glittering cascade of glass.

My hand shot out, grabbing the officer by the collar. His boots squealed against the floor as I drove him back, his heels scraping for purchase. When his back hit the wall, the shelves rattled, a monitor crashing to the floor. His head snapped back, but I yanked him forward again, just enough to stop his skull from splitting open. I wanted him awake for this.

His face stayed calm, like I was nothing more than a fly buzzing too close to his ear.

"It was you all along," I hissed through gritted teeth. "Your voice..."

The words caught in my throat as a flash of green light lit the room. Pain hit me an instant later, exploding down my spine like a whip of molten barbed wire.

"AAAAGH!" The guttural scream ripped from my throat. My knees buckled, and my grip on him slipped as I hit the floor hard. Glass sliced into my palms as the energy surged through me, shredding every nerve it touched.

The officer crouched down with infuriating calm as I writhed at his feet. He tilted his head, studying me like a bug pinned to a board.

"So much fire in you," he taunted. "But don't worry, we'll find a way to put it out, To tame you into a docile, obedient lamb."

My hands twitched against the floor as I forced my head up, glaring at him through the haze of pain. Stirling stood frozen behind the console, his hand twitching toward the remote clipped to his lab coat. His lips moved, but no sound came out. For a fraction of a second I thought he might actually step in.

The officer pressed the device again, and the pain surged like a second wave. It wasn't just fire now, it was knives, slicing me apart from the inside. My vision blurred, and my breath caught, choking me as the world narrowed to a pinpoint of agony.

"You'll serve," he said, rising to his full height and turning away. "Or you'll break."

Darkness swallowed me, and for once, I didn't fight it.