DC: Zoom

Jason's day started on a high note, a grin tugging at his lips as last night's excitement replayed in his mind. Then it hit him—he had a baseball game to attend tonight.

After a quick shower, he threw on his usual clothes, but as he passed the mirror, he froze. His reflection stared back at him, familiar yet… different. His black hair was its usual messy mop, but his silver eyes looked sharper, more alert, like he was seeing the world with fresh clarity.

Then his gaze dropped. Lifting his shirt, his eyes widened.

"Damn," he muttered. He had abs. Since when?

For the first time in a long time, he actually stopped to check himself out.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone and scrolled through his search history. Right… I need to figure out how to make shoes that won't burn up when I run. The problem? He knew absolutely nothing about making clothes.

He tapped his fingers against the screen, deep in thought, when his eyes landed on his sketchbook. Flipping it open, he smirked at a rough drawing of himself in a suit—sleek, streamlined, built for speed. Yeah… I'll definitely need a suit.

Then, an idea sparked.

Dad's job.

His eyes lit up. Dad just started working at S.T.A.R. Labs. That meant access to the kind of materials he needed. The realization settled in, firm and unshakable.

I will have to tell him about my powers.

No. He shook his head—bad idea. What he needed to do was build his own. Maybe even start a business. But he couldn't do it alone. He needed someone with the skills to bring his ideas to life.

Wait—that's it!

He pushed the idea aside for now as his normal school day began. Walking alongside his little sister, he met up with Kara, who, as always, had questions.

"Why do you look so happy today?" she asked, raising a brow.

He shot back with a smirk, "Basketball game tonight."

Kara's eyes widened slightly—clearly, she'd forgotten. But before she could respond, they continued toward the school, slipping into their usual rhythm.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly—no sign of Isaiah, which was a relief. But then Jason noticed something unusual—a large crowd of students huddled together up ahead, murmuring among themselves.

"What's going on?" Kara asked, nudging him.

Jason strained to hear as a student nearby spoke up. "It's all over the news. The police found Isaiah… nearly beaten to death."

Jason's stomach tightened.

"And get this," the student continued, lowering his voice. "They found his dad drunk, admitting to it. Said he did it himself. He's in custody now."

Jason couldn't help but wonder how many beers Isaiah's dad had drunk to admit something like that. He was almost amused by the situation, but Kara's face told a different story. Her expression was full of sympathy—she always felt for others, unlike him. It made sense, though. She had a heart for people, even when they didn't deserve it.

Jason walked past the crowd, his face a mask of indifference. The murmurs and glares of the students didn't faze him—he barely acknowledged them. They were all focused on Isaiah, but Jason couldn't bring himself to care. The whispers faded behind him as he veered down a different path, his footsteps quickening.

A fire sparked inside him, a hunger he hadn't fully acknowledged before. His powers had opened doors, and now, he didn't just want a job—he wanted to rule. Power, control—that's what he craved. The thought settled in him like a quiet certainty. He didn't want to be just another face in the crowd; he wanted to be a king.

Kara, sensing the shift in his demeanor, quickly caught up. "What's wrong?" she asked, concern creasing her brow. "Is it about Isaiah? I know how he bullied you. I get it—you don't feel any remorse, and I accept that." She gave him a small smile. "I'm not naive, but I still feel sorry for him, just a little."

Jason stopped and turned to face her. His gaze softened, but his voice was steady and firm. "You shouldn't stop caring for others, Kara. That's what makes you special."

Deep down, Jason knew the truth: he had to cut ties with her. His path was changing, and he didn't want her to worry about him. But as the words formed on his lips, he couldn't bring himself to say them. She was too important to him. Instead, he sighed, offering a small, forced smile. "Come on, let's go to class."

The day went by smoothly as Jason kept his thoughts busy with plans for the future. When the final bell rang, he grabbed his bag and left class, meeting up with Kara. They both decided to hang out that evening. Of course, Jason made sure to let his parents know where he'd be.

The two of them grabbed a bite to eat, and Kara kept the conversation flowing—something she was particularly good at. Jason didn't mind though; he actually found it comforting, listening to her chatter as they enjoyed the evening.

By the time night came, they were nudging each other, laughing at some inside joke. Best friends enjoying life, like they always did. As they approached the gym, something felt off. Jason glanced at Kara, and she seemed to be focused on the direction of the boys' locker room. Then, a scream broke through the air.

"Shit," Jason muttered under his breath, the unmistakable scent of burning flesh filling the air.

Jason and Kara sprinted toward the locker room, the sound of footsteps behind them as other students followed, curiosity and fear in their eyes. When they reached the door, they froze, taking in the sight before them.

A boy stood there, trembling, his hands raised in surrender. His face was pale, tears streaming down as he looked at the chaos around him.

"I didn't mean it… it was an accident, I… I didn't—" The boy's voice cracked, his words fumbling with guilt and panic.

"Someone call the police!" A voice rang out from the crowd, the panic thick in the air. No one moved to help, their eyes locked on the boy, frozen in fear. 

The mention of 911 made the boy's body stiffen, his eyes widening with panic. Without warning, flames erupted from him, licking at the walls and scorched lockers. The air thickened with heat, bending the metal as his body sizzled through, leaving a trail of destruction behind. He stumbled forward, his limbs jerking erratically as he struggled to lift off the ground, his feet barely clearing the floor. After several failed attempts, his body lurched upward, finally soaring through the broken doors and into the night sky.

Jason's heart pounded as the reality set in—he wasn't the only one with powers at his school. His eyes flickered back to the locker room, the burned body lying in the smoldering wreckage. The stench of charred flesh hit him like a physical blow, and his stomach lurched. He staggered back, his breath coming in shallow gasps, before his body gave way to the overwhelming nausea. He barely made it a step before throwing up, the burning odor still lingering in the air.