Kurt was the first to respond to Smith’s grim pronouncement. He adjusted his glasses slightly with his right hand and pushed away from the wall to stand up straight.

“Seems we may need to move. Does anyone have a more secure place than this location? I just have a spot in the woods.”

Michael shook his head, as did Sherry next to him. “I do not, no. My home might as well be made of tissue paper for all the protection it’d give us.”

Nobody else spoke up. Ryan’s father had moved since the accident. In truth, he didn’t even know where his father lived these days. He doubted it would matter even if he did. Most residential homes couldn’t stop a burglar willing to break a window. Even low caliber bullets could go through walls. What good luck did drywall have against super powers?

No… what Ryan needed now was more information on this Marcus guy. Might as well steer the conversation towards something productive.

“So… he uh… Sounds like a fun guy.” Ryan started, a shaky smile on his gaunt face.

“He is displaying all the relevant signs of every tyrant and dictator since the dawn of written history.” Kurt responded matter-of-factly. “He is not a ‘fun guy’.” He added, with a touch more emphasis on ‘fun guy’ than Ryan thought necessary. Good ol’ Kurt, keepin’ it real.

Ryan tried a different tact. “Has anyone tried to fight back?”

This time, it was Michael’s turn to respond. His tone was almost as serious as Kurt’s had been.

“Yes. Half the police force died when they fought back. Those that are left… are his.”

Ryan’s eyes widened in alarm. That was… not good. Shit. In one move, Marcus had shown any potential challenger what he was capable of, the lengths he was willing to go to, and what would happen to those who resisted him. There was little doubt his message had been received by the entire town. Arborville wasn’t exactly ‘small’, but it wasn’t big enough that half the police could die without people knowing about it.

“What’s his power?” Ryan asked, looking around at the gathered faces of his old friends and new allies. “Does anyone know?” One by one, they each shook their heads.

When Ryan looked at Smith, he spoke up. “I’ve come across plenty of his goons, but never him. There’s plenty of us out there who fight back, not many who live…”

Ryan considered his words for a moment. The voice that had come over the radio had been full of confidence. Marcus was clearly not a man afraid of conflict. Which meant his power was most likely a support type, or something better used away from a fight. Flashy powers could also be safely ruled out. And given how easily Marcus had taken over…

When he was younger, and again after being confined to a bed, Ryan had read plenty of comics about superheroes and their struggles. In recent years, Marvel had even brought such things into the mainstream with one excellent movie after another. There were dozens of powers Ryan could think of that might fit the Marcus bill, most of them mental types. Mind control. Telepathy. Telekinesis… Problem was, this was real life, not just some story with a scripted ending.

Kurt had said Marcus resembled a dictator. After hearing him on the radio, Ryan couldn't help but agree. In stories, people like that were defeated by some righteous hero in an uprising and then thrown in jail. In the real world, uprisings like that were crushed. Brutally. Because every leader that comes into power by force, and keeps it, is acutely aware of how precarious their position is.

No. Stories about people like Marcus ended only two ways in real life. When they died of natural causes, or someone killed them.

Michael had said he was guarding Ryan for a reason. Ryan had a feeling that reason was to find someone who could end Marcus. And not in a comic book way.

Still, best to get such things out in the open. Ryan was now worth a sizeable bounty, after all.

Ryan looked up at his family friends, none of whom had ever been rich men. "So, if we can’t fight him… are you going to turn me in?" He asked with a cautious tone. A quarter of a million dollars was a lot of money. In the state he was in, fresh out of paralysis and about as strong as a wet noodle, any one of them could overpower or outrun him. Ryan wasn’t even sure if he could run, come to think of it. Walking was enough of a challenge.

Michael pulled back from the table and folded his arms with a thoughtful look on his face. Sherry looked at him in surprise. “Hmm… It would make our punishment less severe--ow!” Michael exclaimed as Sherry thumped him on the shoulder.

Michael rubbed his arm good naturedly with his right hand and grinned at her. “No, of course not.” Then he looked at Ryan and spoke in a humored tone. “Are you kidding? Besides, we don’t even know how strong you are yet. You’ve been awake for all of five minutes. It took me weeks to figure out my limits and even now I’m still trying to break them.”

The man (men?) had a point, Ryan conceded. “I… barely have enough energy to edit myself. But I suppose those are good points. I’m up to…” Ryan paused and pulled up his sheet to check. “56 max energy now, though--” He looked down at the empty wrappers. “I’m starting to hate mint chocolate chip.”

“Don’t burst your stomach... “ Sherry admonished with an amused look. As if in response, his stomach growled angrily. An instant later, nature’s burbling call was followed by a warning of imminent and dire portent.

“I think… Excuse me, I need a bathroom.” Ryan said as he struggled to both stand and clench his rear’s muscles against the coming storm.

“Left out the door, two doors down on your right.” Bow-Michael helpfully supplied.

---------------------

Ryan looked out of the hospital room’s window down at the busy town below. From the sixth floor, he could see much of the surrounding area.

His town was on fire.

In the distance, an entire neighborhood was billowing up with black smoke. Streams of fire arced like water across entire houses. Cars and trees were being hurled in the air like an old ACME cartoon. Gunfire sounded out various staccato rhythms in the distance. There was a latch on the upper window to open a screened section for airflow. When he undid it, the sound of distant screams - rage, pain, excitement? - joined the inflow of crisp air.

Arborville Medical Hospital, AMH, was built on the crest of one of the town’s larger hills. Which meant it had an excellent view of the battlefields the streets had become. There were at least three, no-- four distinct larger fights happening in different sections of town. Each had various elements being flung around if not actual pieces of the landscape. Two had a clear winning side from his vantage point, the other two did not.

Fair Meadows park had a tornado - an actual, literal tornado - blowing through it. It was smaller than he would have expected, but that might just be the distance. Arborview Credit Union’s silver tree logo was in the process of… melting? It was hard to tell from here. The Goldenview Mall was exploding like fireworks. Ryan couldn’t tell if it the booms were because of superpowers or rockets - honestly, it looked like it could be both.

Sleepy little Arborville now looked like an active warzone. Ryan put his shriveled-looking hand to the glass. It was cool to the touch and shook slightly. In his mind, he felt as if the glass were reverberating in concert with the explosions naught but a few miles away. He watched the chaos silently for a time. The two Michael-guards his friend had sent stood in the room with him, but said nothing.

This was the world he had woken up to. The world his friends expected him to save. A world that had turned the city he had grown up in into a nightmare.

Ryan was an engineer. His whole life, he’d loved solving problems. Math made sense to him. Science made sense to him. They provided a framework for him to make people’s lives better. Ryan had chosen materials science as his major in the hopes he’d eventually discover some new wonder material like graphene that would take humanity to the next level.

Now humanity was there. And it hadn’t taken nanotech suits to do it. Ryan idly wondered what some of his professors would have said if he’d told them he’d be looking down at a guy throwing flames from his hand in just a few years. Then again, it could be one of them down there. Heh. Scientists with superpowers. Now that would be a hell of a campus experience.

---------------------

The fighting below was slowing down. More people were running - either towards the hospital or simply away from the ongoing battles. Sadness welled up within him. His species had just taken a huge step forward and yet… here they were taking two steps back. The scene in front of him didn’t look like the civilized society he’d grown up in. It looked like Mad Max met the Justice League and forgot to leave money on her counter afterward.

How the hell was he supposed to fix this...? Go to war against Marcus? Kill him? Take back control of the town?

Ryan was not a soldier. The biggest fight he’d ever been in was when he’d gotten his ass kicked for standing up to Steve Harlin, the class bully. Steve had not taken kindly to someone challenging his high school authority and had proceeded to give Ryan a personal lesson in ‘hands-on’ physics. Turns out size made a much bigger difference than emotion in a fight. That lesson came at the small cost of a broken arm and the added bonus of brownie points with his first real girlfriend.

He’d thought about joining the military, all young men did, but his uncle Harvey had talked him out of it. “Go officer if you’re going to, otherwise you’ll be mopping walls like I was.” the irascible 30-something year army veteran had told him. Ryan had never found out if he was joking on that. By the time he finished college though, he’d been paralyzed. According to the recruiter being a quadraplegic was a bit of a disqualifier. Go figure.

Still, it seemed like there was no avoiding it. Ryan would have to fight sooner or later. Michael and Sherry looked like they’d been training, but Ryan had no martial experience. He was no good in a fight. Even if he had been before, he had a strength of ‘3’ now. Whatever the scale meant, a 3 couldn’t be good. And as far as taking blows, his body could barely handle walking as it is. He’d be hard-pressed to take candy from a baby, much less fight someone who could -- did that guy just swing a telephone pole!? -- yeah, no. He’d be pulped if he got into it with another super right now. Marcus would get his bounty delivered in a jar. Right after they scraped him out of the pavement.

No… Powerful as it might sound, his superpower was a slow burn, long haul type deal. Quick as it was to activate, he doubted he could use it in combat. Ryan would have to learn more about his power and raise his energy capacity before he became any sort of respectable threat.

If he wanted to help his friends or his town, Ryan would have to be able to make changes that mattered. And not just with his power. Cool was it might be on TV, Ryan had a feeling raising his strength to Hulk-smash his problems wouldn’t actually work. Not long term, anyway.

No… Ryan would have to be clever. And since he’d been awake all of a few hours, that meant learning what his power could do. Luckily, his friends had been supers longer than he had. It was time to pick their brains.

---------------------

Michael laced fingers behind his head as Sherry began to down her second energy drink since Ryan had come back to the food room. Smith and Kurt were sharing a bag of Super MAX Fire BBQ chips. “So…” Michael began as he leaned back in his chair. “What have you tried with your power so far?”

Ryan piled some Choco’Dreams protein cookies into his arm before he sat down. Might as well work on upping his limit while he could. The protein bars had been a minty minefield, alright. They’d blown a hole right through him. Whatever his power did with the food he gave it, the results had been… explosive.

Still, who could complain about getting to eat an armful of cookies? Ryan sat down with his pastry prizes and responded to his friend. “So far… I’ve just added strength. It’s one of the attributes I can see on the sheet. Besides that I--” Ryan winced and the corners of his mouth twitched up in an embarrassed smile. “I almost blinded myself, I think? Not doing that again…”

The room stared at him in disbelief. Sherry recovered first. “How did you… manage that?”

Ryan rubbed a hand through his hair. “Well, it was an accident at first. But I learned that I can blind myself in order to gain energy - and a lot of it. But… it comes with additional risks.”

Smith chimed in between chips. “What’re the risks?”

“Tear myself apart, basically. The energy I’d gain is more than I can handle.” Ryan explained, opening his first cookie.

“So... it goes both ways!” Michael nodded to himself, then reached for the scanner and popped a battery out. “One more question… how did you avoid blowing yourself up? Can you cancel your power before activating it?”

Ryan nodded. “I can see the change before I make it. If I want, I can cancel it then.”

Michael’s face took on a look of disbelief. “You can just… casually see hypotheticals about your power use.” He turned to look at the rest then tilted his head towards Ryan. “Lookit this lucky bastard.” Michael shook his head slowly. “Okay, try seeing how many points you’d get for draining this battery. Just… don’t do it if… yeah.” Then he slid the battery across the table.

Ryan tapped it and activated his power.

Would you like to drain the held AA battery to regain .25 points? Yes, or no?

A quarter of a point? Well, they were just AAs… If they’d been worth much more he’d be rushing off to the nearest electronics store to become a literal powerhouse. Ryan selected yes. A small spark tingled up his finger from the battery.

“Not even worth a whole point, but… it’s a start.” Ryan responded to the waiting looks of his friends.

Kurt’s brow was furrowed in thought. Michael had another question. “How much can you do to that battery with 1 point? Could you, say, make it rechargeable?”

Energy required to make the held AA battery permanently rechargeable: 5 points. Make the battery rechargeable? Yes, or no?

Ryan selected ‘Yes’ and over the next few seconds the AA battery in his hand changed its color, branding, and he presumed, the interior, to that of a standard rechargeable battery.

Michael folded his arms again. “So, it’s not about the relative value of the item, or its own energy. Must be something else determining the values… Hmm…”

Sherry leaned forward, curiosity brimming in her eyes. “What about making the battery smaller, can you do that?”

That… was a good idea. If he could, Ryan could just hear the electronics manufacturers of the world crying out for his talents. Ohh… the devices he’d make. Or, so he thought.

Insufficient Energy. Energy required to miniaturize the held AA battery to an inch in diameter: 250 points. Further miniaturization will require specification of intended energy density, recharge rate, and a variety of other energy increasing factors.

“I can, but it gets really expensive to do so.” Ryan answered. 250 points was… attainable. He’d have to keep this in mind as an option for making money later.

As great as Sherry’s suggestion was, Kurt’s was even more enticing. The quiet man leaned forward.

“What if you had an energy source? Could you channel it to make changes without having to hold it in?” Kurt waved a hand. “I’m not saying stick your finger in a wall socket of course, but…” He let the question hang in the air.

“I haven’t tried it. I’d have to find a source of energy to--” Ryan felt lightning-hot inspiration run through him. He had a large source right here, didn’t he? It hadn’t been that long. Ryan stood up, his cookie-energy pile forgotten.

“One moment, I have to go check something.” Ryan said on his way out. A pair of other-Michaels followed dutifully behind him down the hall.

---------------------

The black cocoon was still right where he’d left it. It was still partially filled with the fluid he’d woken up in. He knew some had fallen on the floor, but it seemed to have evaporated already. Ryan strode right up to it and put his hand on the still-warm exterior.

If this soupy sludge had kept him alive for well over a month, it was probably filled with energy. Or at least some equivalent that his power could probably use. It was a gamble, but… Ryan figured it was worth a shot.

Would you like to deplete the remnants of your chrysalis and convert it to energy? Energy gained: 25,114.

Warning: Energy gained over your maximum will be lost if not immediately used. There is also a chance it may violently escape.

Ryan exhaled slowly. The arm that was touching the cocoon began to tremble. Over twenty-five thousand points?! This cocoon - had his power called it a chrysalis? - was a gold mine. For him, at least, it was a black liquid on par with the discovery of oil. Albeit, single use. Though oil was too, come to think of it. Hmm.

‘Violently escape’ didn’t sound any better than it had the last time. And this was a hell of a lot more points. Which Ryan had no doubt meant a larger chance of a ‘violent escape’. He briefly pictured himself blowing up from the inside like some kind of anime character. No, he wouldn’t be risking that. Not today, anyway.

But if Kurt was right… Ryan changed his mental tact and tried to visualize himself channeling the energy directly into what he wanted it to be used on. In his mind, he thought of it as a new pathway for the energy. Like directing the flow of blood through a mental vein. Once he had that strange new image firmly in mind, he accessed his power. Ryan already knew what he was going to spend it on if he could.

Would you like to deplete the remnants of your chrysalis and channel the energy into increasing your energy capacity? Yes, or no?

Energy to be channeled: 25,114.

Estimated new energy capacity: 230.

Leftover energy: 89.

Warning: Energy gained over your maximum will be lost if not immediately used. There is also a chance it may violently escape.

Holy mother of sweet, sexy science -- it had worked! Ryan owed Kurt some scooby snacks for this. Caught up in the moment, he happily chose ‘Yes’.

The black cocoon immediately began to melt and fold in upon itself. Wisps of steam rose up from the edges and the liquid began to evaporate before his very eyes. Ryan was in the middle of exclaiming his righteous victory when the black mess before him began to run up his arm as if it were alive. Hot fire rose up his arm as it came, as if every inch of skin it touched had been drenched in acid.

“Woohoo--hhrnrnrnghaa!?!” Ryan cried out. He crumpled to the floor, his control over his legs lost underneath a dizzying wave of pain. To his disbelief and dismay, the molten mass of liquid swirled up and followed him as he fell. The blackness traveled up his arm to the shoulder and then… it sunk into his skin. A million needles made of hateful ice pierced what felt like every nerve his arm had.

That was when Ryan began to scream. Unfortunately, that was when it got worse.

Ryan could feel the mass of liquid writhing around inside him, seeping through the rest of his body. Wherever it went, his body had no context for the sensation. Bewildered and believing itself under attack, his brain registered each new movement as fresh pain. Muscles, bones, veins… all of it was fire.

And then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. Ryan realized that there was a Michael on each side of him, holding him up. Apparently his arms had given out as well, without them he’d probably be facedown on the floor. They were saying something, but processing that would have to wait until he could move again.

“--Ryan! Ryan? Are you alright?! Ryan!? What happened?” Michael’s bellowed, concern heavy in his voice.

It was a moment before Ryan remembered how to work his mouth to make sounds again.

“Y-yeah… I- I’m fine…” And he was, he was fairly sure, anyway. There were no more needles, no more waves of pain… But Ryan still felt like he was forgetting something. Something important. Something… dangerous? His left arm felt all tingly. Like static build up almost, only he could feel it. Why could he feel it?

One of the Michael’s slung more of his arm under Ryan’s left and began to pull him to his feet. Ryan grasped at his friend’s arm with his own.

“Up you go, big guy. Try not to scare us like that next ti--” Bow Michael’s admonishment was interrupted by a loud WUMP sound. Ryan felt the tingle in his arm discharge and vanish. Blood splattered the wall behind bow Michael, and suddenly it was his turn to scream.

The fog in Ryan’s mind immediately lifted. And he could stand! Progress. His friend’s clone was holding onto a bloody stump. Everything south of the elbow was just… gone. There was hole in the drywall next to him about a foot in diameter, encircled by dripping red. Ryan could see the hallway outside his room on the other side of the wall.

To his surprise, a face appeared in that hole. It looked away from them, towards the debris in the hallway, then back to them. The face was that of a rough, serious looking man in his mid-thirties. He had fresh scar tissue covering the left side of his face. When he spoke, his voice was polite as could be.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Would any of you happen to know which room belongs to Mr. Reynolds? Mayor Marcus would dearly like to meet with him.”