It was a dark and dreary night. The storm clouds were miles away, the skyscraper giving a view of the heavens and its movements.
'This must be what it feels like to fly. To see the world from ABOVE.'
A lone soul on top of Bower's Tower sat in-waiting for something to happen. Anything. Anything at all.
A double-buzz from his pocket immediately drew his attention away from the beautiful, albeit sad view. It was his mother, [Hey sweetie! It is going to be your big day tomorrow!!! I can't wait to see what Power you get! :* :*]
His brooding demeanor broke in an instant as he sent a text back, [Mom, there is no guarantee that I even have a power...but thanks, I appreciate it.]
She replied, [:):):):):):):):):):):)]
He cracked a smile and went back into the "fancy pants penthouse" that he called Home.
Mom and Dad would be at work tonight. A monster wave was hitting a nearby city, and they needed all hands on deck for Danger-Level-3. He turned on the News, flopping into bed as the anchorwoman spoke, "It has been a rough time in Albertson tonight, as 3-waves approach the walls of the North District."
The words, "3-waves" drew his attention for a moment, but he realized they must have borrowed some of the patrolling Capes to provide support. Three entire waves could be predicted by a blind man. That wasn't an insult either, they'd feel the ground tremble in the wake of so many Things.
Anyways.
Ermis lay in bed, waiting for the Sandman to come and take him away. His nerves sparked and jittered in the fray. But it was for naught, as the Master of Dreams won the day.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Ermis woke from a deep slumber, his dreams wicked and cruel. Nightmares he would never repeat. Failures that must never become reality.
Time passed in a blink. The day was slipping from his control as he readied for it. Whatever was coming. Whatever would meet him would be Great. Whether it be a Great Failure or Success, it was coming. He could feel it in his bones.
He stopped brushing, spit, rinsed, then took a swig of his Mouthwash before heading from his personal bathroom. He passed the Master Bedroom, his dad giving him a small nod of encouragement to meet his mother on the battlefield of their kitchen.
He quickly stepped down the stairs and there it was. A masterpiece of his mother's making. 32-no-33 Pancakes stacked high, butter and syrup rolling down as his "mother" winked and poured it on.
Another Mom went by, sprinting up the stairs to yell at Dad.
The next Sandy went bustling past him, hands filled with dirty dishes that he was NOT allowed to see.
Ermis spoke, "Hey Mom! It is a busy morning, eh?"
The real Sandy turned to him, giving him someone to hug, "You bet, sweetie! I am making all of your favorites!"
He could see so many things being made, they'd need to donate most of it, but it was the thought that he loved. The smile on her face was worth enduring the absurdity of a "Super Mom" cloning herself and making EVERYTHING you even looked at with a smile.
Sandy placed her hand on Ermis' forehead, "Are you feeling anything?" She wholeheartedly believed her son was going to be great. And it wasn't just because she had him secretly tested when he was 12. His P-Particulate count was 50,000, and it must have skyrocketed from there. He should have manifested as an extremely powerful individual by now, the implication was daunting for the Council.
She smiled and flicked him on the head, "Remember us "mortals" down here when you ascend into stardom, okay?"
Ermis smiled and said, "Thanks, Mom." He didn't truly believe he would manifest, but he believed in his mother, she wasn't a Pseudo-A Rank Cape for nothing.
Ermis looked at the stares as Clone Sandy shouted at him and he shouted back, "ALRIGHT! I AM GOING!" His jacket flipped over his shoulders and he sleeved his arm, "He wants to have a normal day Sandy. No need to get so worked up."
There was his Dad, Jorge "Ganesha" Jones. His being a "God of Wisdom" didn't stop him from losing arguments with Mom.
They spoke in hushed whispers, Jorge casually pointing out Ermis' posture and emotional affect to back up his claims. While Sandy casually overwhelmed him with quantity.
Ermis watched the play fight, it was better than coffee if you tried to follow 8 conversations at the same time.
He giggled at their antics and grabbed a plate, one of the Sandys even giving him a sympathetic eye-roll towards the couple.
He got his plate ready, sat down, then spoke, "Let's eat, we have a big day!"
They dropped their fight and a few Moms looked smug like they had won against the so-called "God" of wisdom.
The clones slowly faded and the experience sent Mom reeling for only a moment. The experiences of the others being transferred was hard on her mind. They grabbed their food and sat quickly.
Jorge read Ermis' thoughts and raddled them off, "So, nightmares? Worried about your powers? Concerned if Jessica likes you back? Wondering where that sock went?"
Ermis smiled then nodded slowly, "Yeah. Nightmares all night. Not too bad, just possible futures."
Jorge squinted at him, catching his feint, "I know you heard the other ones. Jessi-"
A light flashed behind them, bursting into the sky above York City.
Alarms began going off.
They all sighed.
It was going to be a long day.