The abandoned skate park smelled like rust, stale spray paint, and last week's bad decisions.
Zeke liked it here. Not because it was pretty—it wasn't. Half the ramps were tagged with graffiti, and the rails were bent from years of kids doing tricks and eating concrete. But it was quiet. No cameras, no drones, no NeoGeneX thugs hiding behind clipboards. Just him, Maya, and the sound of his own heartbeat thudding too loud in his ears.
"Okay," Maya said, hands on her hips, eyes locked on him. "Show me again."
Zeke groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Why do you always sound like a gym teacher about to yell at me for skipping warm-ups?"
"Because you do skip warm-ups. And also because if you don't practice, you're going to blow up the next time you sneeze near a light switch."
Zeke glanced at the shattered floodlight overhead. "That was one time."
"Uh-huh." Maya crouched down, pulling a little notepad from her hoodie pocket. She'd been logging his… episodes. Sparks, bursts of strength, weird sensory spikes. "Now focus. Close your eyes. Find the hum."
Zeke sighed but obeyed. He closed his eyes, shutting out the skate park, the world, even Maya's annoying-but-comforting voice.
The hum was always there now. Like a low electrical current buzzing just under his skin. Sometimes it was faint, like background noise. Other times it surged so loud it drowned out everything else. And every time he touched it, even a little, something happened—lights shattered, air bent, or his bones screamed like they weren't his own.
"Feel it?" Maya asked softly.
"Yeah," Zeke muttered. "It's like a wasp nest in my veins."
"Okay. Now… breathe. Don't fight it. Just… shape it."
Zeke tried. He really did. He imagined holding the hum like a ball, rolling it between his hands. For a second, it worked—energy pooled in his palms, crackling faintly. Little sparks danced between his fingers, blue-white and alive.
Maya's eyes widened. "Zeke—"
And then it exploded.
Not a big explosion—more like a concussive pop. The rail beside him bent with a metallic groan, dust raining from the ceiling. Zeke stumbled back, clutching his hands, which now tingled like they'd fallen asleep in the worst possible way.
"Son of a—!" He shook them, wincing. "Okay, note to self: do not imagine holding plasma like a stress ball."
Maya jogged over, checking his hands. "Any burns?"
"Just bruised pride."
She smirked. "That's been bruised for years."
Zeke gave her a look, but she only grinned wider. Somehow, she could always poke fun at him and make the crushing weight of everything feel lighter.
For about three seconds.
Then the hum surged again—this time not from him, but toward him.
Zeke stiffened. His pulse spiked. He felt it—faint, echoing, like someone tapping on the back of his skull.
Maya noticed immediately. "What is it?"
"Someone's…" He swallowed hard. "Someone's listening."
She tensed. "Cross?"
"No. Worse."
The air seemed heavier. The shadows in the corners of the skate park stretched unnaturally, warping like liquid. And from them, a figure stepped out—tall, lean, with a half-smirk that never quite reached her eyes.
Zara.
"Well, well," she drawled, tilting her head. "Look who's finally getting the hang of his training wheels."
Maya instantly stepped in front of Zeke, fists clenched. "You're not welcome here."
Zara ignored her, eyes fixed on Zeke. "You feel it, don't you? The tether. The pull. Harbinger feels you too. Every time you touch that hum, it sings to him. And one day, when the song is loud enough…" She snapped her fingers. "Boom."
Zeke forced a laugh, though his chest felt like stone. "Great pep talk. Remind me to hire you as my motivational speaker."
Zara's smile sharpened. "Don't joke, Zeke. You're playing with fire, and fire always burns. Cross wants to leash Harbinger, but she can't. The only leash is you. And sooner or later, he's going to come looking for his missing half."
Maya's voice was steel. "Then we'll be ready."
Zara finally looked at her, amused. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Loyalty too. But loyalty won't save him when the tether snaps his mind in half."
Zeke stepped forward, fists trembling with restrained energy. "Why are you here, Zara? To warn me? To scare me? Or just because you're bored?"
Her smirk faltered just a little. "Maybe I don't want to watch Cross win. Maybe I don't want to watch you become her puppet. Maybe…" Her gaze softened for half a second, before hardening again. "Maybe I want to see if you'll prove me wrong."
And then, as suddenly as she came, she vanished into the shadows—gone without a trace.
The silence she left behind was deafening.
Maya turned to Zeke, her expression caught between fury and fear. "She's right, isn't she? About the tether."
Zeke didn't answer right away. His hands still crackled faintly, sparks fading slow. He finally whispered:
"Yeah. And if Harbinger's getting louder… it means he's coming."