Chapter: 1
The early morning sun crept lazily over the horizon, casting long shadows across the deserted warehouse district. A cool breeze rustled through the cracked windows, but the two men inside were oblivious to the dawn breaking around them. They were too focused on the task at hand: finalizing the sale of enough firepower to level a small city block.
One of the arms dealers, a burly man with a grizzled beard, opened a large steel case, revealing rows of neatly stacked assault rifles. "It's all here," he said, his voice rough as gravel. "Just like we agreed."
The buyer, a tall, thin man with shifty eyes, nodded appreciatively. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a thick envelope stuffed with cash. The exchange was almost complete when the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the darkened hallway leading to the exit.
Both men froze, their eyes snapping toward the source of the sound. The bearded man slowly reached for the gun holstered at his waist. "Did you bring backup?"
The buyer shook his head, sweat beading on his brow. "I thought you did."
The footsteps grew louder, more deliberate, until a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. The figure stepped into the dim light, revealing a young man standing calmly before them, hands in his pockets as if he had all the time in the world.
The bearded man didn't hesitate. He drew his gun and fired. His partner did the same, the muzzle flashes briefly illuminating their wide-eyed expressions.
Any ordinary person would have tried to dodge, seek cover, or simply accept their fate. But not this young man. The sound of bullets ricocheting filled the warehouse—one hit steel, another hit flesh. The bearded man dropped his weapon, clutching his bleeding leg as he collapsed to the floor in pain.
The young man, untouched, took another step forward, his expression unreadable. His calm demeanor was unnerving. He was no ordinary person.
The thin man's eyes darted around the room, panic setting in. He raised his gun again, aiming shakily at the intruder, but before he could fire, the gun flew from his hand, clattering to the ground as if struck by an invisible force.
The young man stopped in front of the two, looking down at them with a mixture of disinterest and mild disappointment. "You should've known better," he said quietly.
The bearded man, still clutching his leg, looked up in confusion. "Who the hell are you?"
"FBI," the young man replied simply. "And you're under arrest."
As if on cue, the sound of sirens began to echo in the distance, growing louder as they approached. The young man took a step back, allowing the scene to settle. He watched the two men exchange a glance—one of pain, the other of fear—before turning his back on them.
Ethan stepped out of the warehouse just as two unmarked FBI vans pulled up, tires screeching against the asphalt. The doors swung open, and two agents hurried out, both slightly out of breath.
"Took you guys long enough. Where were you?" Ethan asked, his voice tinged with mild irritation.
One of the agents, a man in his mid-thirties with a buzz cut, held up his hands defensively. "Sorry about that. Traffic was terrible."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Well, hurry it up. I have school in an hour."
The other agent, a woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense attitude, gave him a dismissive wave. "Yeah, yeah, you can go. We'll handle the cleanup."
"Finally." Ethan muttered, turning away and heading toward his car, a sleek 2024 Lucid Air parked a few meters away.
With the precision of the bust, one would assume a veteran agent had led the operation. But the truth was far more surprising. This entire operation had been pulled off by a seventeen-year-old.
Ethan opened the door to his car, sliding into the driver's seat. The interior was as pristine as the exterior, with the latest in automotive technology at his fingertips. As he started the engine, the car purred to life, and he pulled out of the lot, merging seamlessly onto the road that would take him back to the ordinary life he juggled alongside his extraordinary one.
As he drove, the city slowly came to life around him. Ethan's mind drifted, but his expression remained calm, almost detached. It was always like this after a mission—his focus shifting from life-threatening situations to mundane high school tasks.
Ethan's phone buzzed on the dashboard, snapping him back to reality. He glanced at the screen—a text from Kyle, his best friend at school.
Dude, you better not be late today. We've got that chem test first period.
Ethan smirked, typing a quick reply as he stopped at a red light.
Wouldn't miss it. Someone has to set the curve.
With a quick flick of his fingers, he sent the message, then tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. The light turned green, and he pressed down on the accelerator, weaving through the early morning traffic with practiced ease.
As he approached the school, his thoughts shifted back to the morning's events. The bullets hadn't even touched him, thanks to his Vector Manipulation—a power that gave him the ability to control the direction and magnitude of any force. It also gave him an automatic barrier, reflexively deflecting anything that threatened him. Bullets, explosions—it didn't matter. The vectors were his to command.
But none of that mattered now. Right now, he had to get through another day of high school without drawing too much attention. He parked the Lucid Air a few blocks away from the school, preferring to keep his flashy ride out of sight. He grabbed his backpack from the backseat, slung it over his shoulder, and started the short walk to campus.
Blending in was the name of the game. To everyone else, Ethan Vex was just another high school senior. But beneath that calm exterior lay powers that no one could begin to understand—and a responsibility that few could bear.
The school bell rang just as he stepped onto the campus. With a deep breath, Ethan prepared himself for the day ahead. To the outside world, he was just a student. But to those who knew the truth, he was something far more—and the day wasn't over yet.
Chapter 1: End