In her living room, Angelica Jones took her first step of the day, feet planted firmly on the cool floor under her bed in this studio apartment. She prepared for the day ahead, sorted her things. Photoshoot during the afternoon, a livestream before then, had to film a social media clip for a sponsor. She had to call her mom and ask how dad was doing. Before all of that, she was gonna have breakfast and go for a run. She got into her sporting clothes, had a bowl of Greek yoghurt and some oats. Prepared a bottle of water that she clipped to the slightly weighted vest she wore during her runs. Hunching down, she tied her brand-dealt sneakers and set out of her apartment. As she left her apartment building, she stopped to put her headphones into her ears. 165 BPM playlist. She had to burn today. This was just like any other day for her.
Her feet touched the ground, once. Then again, twice. Three times. Ever more rapidly. Her breath got shallow, after a few minutes her mouth started to get dry and she paused to drink from her bottle. Her pulse was high. Too high, given how short of a distance she had ran. 185 beats. She hadn't had that high pulse in years. Was it nerves about the meeting? Maybe. Running again, swimming in the sound of the music. Her mind ran free. Her legs moving, her breath feeling normal, yet, her heartrate was constantly climbing. She wasn't sweating. She ran onto the sidewalk, and felt the sun hit her left side. It was warm. Like, really warm. Too warm for Seattle weather in March. As she looked down on the sun hitting her, she noticing something that made her eyes widen. Her long sleeved shirt was smoking. She tried, panicked, to put out the flames by patting it with her other hand, first lightly and then more intensely as the smoke didn't stop, instead only increasing in intensity till the shirt was burnt straight through, revealing that it wasn't her shirt that was on fire. It was her arm.
She yelled out in panic.
"Help! What the hell is going on, someone help me, fire, fire!" She cried, people picking up their phones, most of them to call the authorities. Some few to film the incident. Other hurried away scared. She cried in terror and pain, as the flames erupted from all over her body. She blacked out from panic, and when she came to, she was soaring in the air the world now truly below her. She was hanging 20 feet into the sky, tethered to nothing. Her ears were ringing from the alarms made by the four cars that had crashed looking at the exploding star in the sky. There had now been a barricade formed under her, the flames from her body had spread onto the concrete, lighting a nearby tree on fire, as well as a park bench. She looked at her hands, in complete shock.
"What's happening to me?! Help!" She cried. Police, firefighters and two ambulances had arrived under her, the police had their guns ready, awaiting directive. Directive to shoot. A directive that would never come. As all radios, phones and electronics in 150 meters got their signal completely blocked. The sea of people who had gathered behind the barricade was being parted. With a low sounding him, the metal bars that made up the barricade bent out of the way, and the police's weapons were gently, but forcefully lowered, aiming away from the girl in the sky. Gently enough to make the police think it was their fellow officers that lowered the guns out of their own will, rather than an invisible hand pushing it down. From the now open barricade, a man walked by. Dressed in a red dress-shirt over a 90's Rock Band t-shirt, black business pants and a pair of shiny black office loafers. His hair was silver and he had a spotless shave. His eyes had a soft, almost purple glow to them. He paid the people him no mind, nor did he care for the people on the other side, as he spoke, it was as if the only person in the entire world was Angelica Jones.
His voice boomed with great intensity, serenity and earnest in his voice. A warm smile on his face, his arm slowly extending into the sky.
"I know you are scared. You're unprepared. This all feels like such a sudden change. You are not alone in feeling this way. It's not an accident that this happened to you. You are special. My name is Maximilian. I'm here to help. If you let me, I promise you everything will be okay. I will stay here with you as long as you need me to."
For some inexplicit reason, she believed him. She got calmed just from seeing him act so fearless. She wanted the help he offered. Breathe, Angelica. You are in control, you are in charge of these flames, they don't burn you. They burn for you. Choose a direction and they will follow. A softer, more vague and distant voice echoed in her head. A thought? Perhaps. Her panic was washing off of her, as she took a deep breath and looked intensely on the man in red on the ground. Her eyes focusing on a spot in front of him, and she could feel herself moving, in the air. She approached for a landing.
Way too fast.
She crashed in front of Maximilian, debris flying up into the sky, piece of metal and concrete, a pipe broke, more car alarms. Yet with the flick of his hand, all of these dangers and distractions were taken care of. He simply walked over to the side of the crater, where the girl was standing and peered in. She was unharmed, just, shocked. Looking at her hands and the area around her, at the destruction she had caused.
"I- I did that? How?" She was puzzled, dumbfounded. Terrified and confused.
Maximilian smiled at her again, as he walked into the crater, sliding down the 2 meter hole slope she had made, intentionally with small movements he extremely nimbly avoided the few piece of burning debris that were in his way.
"You are a mutant. Like me. Today was the day your powers arrived. As I said up there. If you let me, I will help you learn how to handle them. To control them. Not let them control you. I will teach you to use them for the betterment of not just yourself, but all." She couldn't explain why, but she believed him. She wanted to believe him. Carefully she raised her trembling hand to take his, afraid to touch him. Yet he never hesitated. No fear of getting burnt. She laid her hand in his and he didn't even flinch, for he had not burnt.
"I trust you fully to not hurt me, just as you have put your trust in me."
"Was it... Your voice in my head I heard?" She said, getting faint from exhaustion, flames dying down, collapsing. Max caught her, her clothes were mostly burnt off, his red button up shirt took a life of it's own as the metal buttons un-buttoned it and pulled it smoothly off of his arms, sweeping over the woman to cover her like a blanket.
"No, that was the person who saved me. Who showed me the way."
Standing on a rooftop overlooking the situation, a man donning a black skin-tight suit held his left hand up to his temple, by the side of his high-tech X-shaped goggles. Watching as his ward, friend and greatest pride hovered out of the crater, carrying the currently unconscious girl. As soon as the two had emerged, the road began repairing itself as the same kind of low-hum could be heard. A minute later, everything had returned back to normal, the only remains of the event were the burn marks on the tree. The police were unsure of what had happened, why were they here? Reports of a block-wide communication error came in over dispatch, but other than that, everything was fine.
Well done, Maximilian. Every person who witnessed this event has seen something completely ordinary, and they will not see you nor Miss Jones leave. There are spare supplies in the car. Clothes, food and water, as well as first aid. I shall see you and Miss Jones for dinner at the house this evening.
Max looked up towards the building where his mentor was positioning, cracking a smile as he nodded in agreement.
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