"Ethan?" Susan's voice came through the speaker, gentle but firm. "Hey, you're breathing fast. What happened?"
Ethan clutched the phone tighter. The tremor in his hands made it hard to keep his grip. "I—uh—sorry. I just— I don't—"
"Ethan." Her tone softened, every word measured. "Listen to me. Breathe in through your nose… slowly. Hold it. Now let it out through your mouth."
He tried. The air caught in his throat. It felt like the walls were closing in. His heartbeat was too loud—every pulse like thunder in his skull.
Susan was already in motion. She pressed the phone against her shoulder while waving across the Baxter Foundation's lab floor. "Johnny!" she hissed.
Her brother looked up from across the room, confused, but his face changed the moment he saw hers. She scribbled a quick note on her tablet and held it up:"Ethan. Panic attack. Need a ride—now."
Johnny Storm didn't hesitate. He tossed his tools aside, snatched his car keys, and sprinted toward the elevator."I'm on it!" he called back, already jogging toward the garage.
Susan followed, phone still in hand, voice steady as she wove through the hall."Ethan, I'm on my way, okay? Just stay on the line. I'm coming to you."
On the other end, Ethan tried to form words, but everything came out broken."Susan… I—something—something's wrong with me. I saw… I saw something I shouldn't—"His breathing hitched again, ragged and uneven. The words tangled. "It's like—it's like my head's on fire, and the world's—"
"Ethan," Susan said softly, pressing the elevator button. "You're okay. You're safe. Just keep breathing. You don't have to explain—"
But the sentence was cut short.The sound of his breath turned sharp—short gasps, desperate and strained.
Then silence.
"Ethan?" she said quickly. "Ethan!"
Static.The call dropped.
Ethan's Apartment
Ethan dropped the phone. It clattered across the floor as his chest seized again. His lungs refused to cooperate, dragging in air that didn't seem to reach him. His vision blurred, white edges eating into the corners.
I can't breathe. I can't—
The world tilted. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Then, out of nowhere, the two commands flashed in his mind again, glowing behind his eyes like seared symbols.
/open_character_panel/allocate_point
He couldn't think. Couldn't reason. His body acted on instinct, words spilling from his lips before he even knew he was saying them.
"/allocate point… 0.2…"
The panel burst into view with a sharp tone. A new message flared across its surface.
[Energy Conversion Initiated] [Allocating 0.2 Stat Points to: WILLPOWER] [Warning: Excessive strain detected – energy drain critical!]
The world ignited.
It wasn't light—it was fire.A burning sensation tore through every nerve, as if his veins carried molten electricity. His muscles spasmed; his vision went white, then gold. The pain hit hard enough to make him gasp, but somewhere inside that agony… something shifted.
The panic began to ease.The noise in his chest dulled to a manageable hum. His heartbeat steadied, still fast but no longer lethal. The suffocating pressure around his ribs loosened. He could finally breathe.
The panel flickered again.
[WILLPOWER: 10.7] [Stabilization Successful]
Ethan slumped against the wall, drenched in sweat, his breath shaky but real. His body trembled from the effort, every limb heavy like lead. His mind, though—his mind felt clearer.
He didn't know what he'd just done.He didn't know what the system had taken from him to make it work.
All he knew was that he'd been on the edge of breaking… and the code had pulled him back.
Ethan leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing hard. His head still rang faintly with that electric pulse from whatever he'd just done. His heart had steadied, but now his entire body felt drained—like every muscle had been wrung dry.
He forced himself up, unsteady on his feet, and stumbled toward the bathroom. The mirror caught him as he passed, and for a split second he didn't recognize the reflection.
Blood streaked down from his temple, drying in dark lines. His shirt was half-soaked in crimson and sweat. His eyes looked too bright, unfocused.
He didn't think. He just turned the shower on cold and stepped in, clothes and all.
The water hit him like ice. His breath caught again, but this time it grounded him. The shock helped clear the fog in his head, washing away the mess on his skin and the smell of iron that clung to his clothes.
When the adrenaline finally burned out, his knees almost gave out beneath him. He caught himself on the tile wall, panting. Every part of him felt heavy, like gravity had decided to double just for him.
"Come on…" he muttered, fumbling. "Don't pass out now…"
The thought triggered something instinctive, and the panel flared back to life before him.
[ENERGY LEVEL: 0.8 / 3.0] [WARNING: CRITICAL LOW ENERGY] [Recommendation: Consume calories, fluids, and caffeine immediately] [Failure to comply may result in loss of consciousness]
The text flashed in red, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. Ethan gave a weak, tired laugh.
"Yeah… no kidding."
He let the water run a little longer, staring at the panel through the mist. It was there, waiting for him, glowing like an answer he hadn't asked for. Whatever this was—mutation, miracle, or madness—it wasn't going away.
He sighed and leaned his forehead against the cool tile. "Fine," he whispered. "You win. You're real."
He didn't have to like it. He just had to live with it.
But now there was something else pressing on his chest—a worry heavier than the fatigue creeping through his limbs.Susan.
She was coming here.And she was going to see him like this.
Part of him wanted to tell her everything. She'd earned that much. Ever since his short internship at the Baxter Foundation, she and Johnny had treated him like family. When his panic got bad, they'd been the ones to talk him down. When the world felt too heavy, they'd helped him stand back up.
They never judged him. Never made him feel broken.
And now… now he was something else. Something the world hated.
He couldn't bring that to their doorstep. Couldn't risk hate groups, cameras, or those mobs that burned mutant safe houses just because someone helped.
He clenched his fists, staring at the flickering holographic text. "I won't drag you into this," he whispered. "Not you. Not Johnny. Not anyone."
The warning symbol on the panel blinked again, reminding him of his body's limits.
[Energy: 0.8 – Critical]
Ethan shut off the water, still shaking. The world spun slightly as he grabbed a towel and stumbled toward the kitchen. He didn't know how long he had before Susan arrived—but if he was going to keep his secret, he needed to look alive.
Literally.