The transport moved like a ghost through the outskirts of the city.
Inside the cabin, the air was thick with the smell of expensive leather and the ozone scent still bleeding off Jessie's skin. No one spoke. The President and the General were in a separate vehicle, leaving Jessie and Leo alone with their thoughts and the hum of the tires against the pavement.
Jessie stared at his hand. It looked normal. But beneath the surface, it felt like his veins were filled with live wires.
PRIME:
Current stability: 64%.
Localized cellular regeneration lagging behind energy output.
Conclusion: The vessel is insufficient for the current load.
The vessel, Jessie thought bitterly. I have a name, you know.
"You're doing it again," Leo said. He was leaning against the far door, his green eye glowing a bit brighter in the dark interior. "Your heart rate is spiking. I can hear it hitting the seatback."
Jessie forced a breath out, trying to loosen his shoulders. "It's fine, Leo. Just a lot of adrenaline."
"Adrenaline doesn't make blue sparks come out of your skin, Jess." Leo's voice was uncharacteristically soft. "We're supposed to be a team. If you're breaking, I need to know."
Jessie looked out the window. The city lights were thinning out, replaced by the dark, looming silhouettes of the mountains. "I'm not breaking. I'm... expanding. PRIME says I need to train. That I'm not 'optimized' yet."
Leo let out a dry snort. "Optimized. Like we're software. We're just kids who got hit by a cosmic bus, man."
"A bus we're driving now," Jessie reminded him.
THE ARRIVAL
The vehicle slowed, turning off the main highway and onto a private road guarded by a series of automated checkpoints. There were no signs. No markings. Just miles of high-tension fencing and sensors that swept over the car with invisible red beams.
They crested a final hill, and the facility came into view.
It wasn't a bunker. It was a sprawling complex of glass, carbon fiber, and white stone, tucked into the basin of a valley. It looked like a university campus designed by a defense contractor.
"The Cradle," a voice crackled over the vehicle's intercom. It was the General. "Your new home. And your first testing ground."
As the transport pulled into the main courtyard, Jessie saw them.
People.
Hundreds of them, even at this hour. They weren't press, and they weren't just soldiers. There were engineers in grease-stained jumpsuits, scientists in white coats, and analysts staring at tablets. As the doors opened and Jessie stepped out, the activity didn't stop, but the atmosphere changed.
The air felt electric.
"They aren't just here to watch you," the General said, stepping out of the lead car and walking toward them. "They're here to support you. You asked for an infrastructure. Here it is."
THE FIRST STEP
The General led them toward a massive circular structure at the heart of the complex. The doors were reinforced titanium, etched with a symbol Jessie didn't recognize—three interlocking circles.
"This is the Kinetic Lab," the General explained. "It's reinforced to withstand localized tectonic shifts. Which, according to our data, is what happens when you get angry."
Jessie walked to the center of the room. The floor was a dark, non-reflective composite. High above, banks of sensors and high-speed cameras tracked his every movement.
"Leo, you're with the tech team in the observation booth," the General directed. "Jessie... stay in the circle."
Leo hesitated, looking at Jessie. Jessie gave him a small, reassuring nod.
"Go on. See what they've got for you."
Leo turned and headed for the elevators, leaving Jessie alone in the vast, silent space.
THE AWAKENING
"PRIME," Jessie whispered.
PRIME:
Standing by. Training sequence Alpha-1 initialized.
Objective: Controlled discharge.
"Let's see what the world is so afraid of," Jessie muttered.
He closed his eyes. He didn't look for the power; he looked for the pain. He followed the stinging sensation in his arm, down into his chest, into the core of whatever PRIME had become inside him. He grabbed hold of it.
The lights in the room flickered.
A low hum began to vibrate through the floor.
"Jessie," the General's voice came over the speakers, sounding distant. "We're reading a massive energy spike. Keep it contained."
"I'm trying," Jessie hissed through gritted teeth.
The blue light didn't just flicker this time. It erupted.
Arcs of cerulean energy danced across his skin, snapping like whips against the composite floor. The air began to smell of ozone and burnt sugar. Jessie felt his feet lift off the ground—not by much, just an inch—as gravity seemed to lose its grip on him.
PRIME:
Warning: Containment failing.
Internal temperature rising.
"I can... handle it!" Jessie roared.
He slammed his hands together.
A shockwave of pure kinetic force exploded outward. The reinforced glass of the observation booth groaned but held. The sensors whirled frantically. In the center of the storm, Jessie felt a terrifying sense of clarity. He wasn't just a boy anymore. He was an engine.
Then, the pain returned.
It was a white-hot spike through his temple. The blue light flared into a blinding sun, and then—
Blackout.
THE AFTERMATH
Jessie woke up on the floor.
The room was silent again, though several of the overhead lights had shattered. He could taste copper in his mouth.
"Jessie!"
Leo was the first one through the doors, sliding across the floor to reach him. He grabbed Jessie's shoulders, checking for a pulse.
"I'm okay," Jessie coughed, waving him off. He sat up, his limbs feeling like lead.
He looked at his hands. They were shaking violently.
The General walked into the room, followed by Hal and Ava. None of them looked relieved. They looked at the floor—at the three-inch deep crater Jessie had blasted into the reinforced composite.
"That was ten percent of your projected output," the General said, his voice grim. "If you had hit a hundred, this entire valley would be a lake."
Jessie looked up, his eyes meeting the General's.
"Then I guess we have a lot of work to do."