I'm back in my room, but sleep won't come to me. The night is relentless, filled with the echoes of my failure. The mission was a disaster. I can't shake the images of the warehouse collapsing, the heat, the destruction. My hands are still trembling, and the dark patches on my skin have spread further, more pronounced, spiking into rough scales. They feel like a curse, a visible sign of my spiraling control.
I sit on the edge of my bed, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest. The radiation leaking from me has become a constant, an invasive presence that I can't escape. I close my eyes, but the images of burning metal and falling debris play on a loop. I failed them.
I failed myself.
A knock on the door startles me. "Rhan, we need to talk," Thorne's voice calls from the other side. I don't respond. What's there to say? The words are meaningless now.
The door creaks open, and Thorne steps in, his face etched with concern. "You're a mess. We need to get you checked out. Something's wrong."
I shake my head, trying to mask the dread that's curling inside me. "I'm fine. Just need some rest." But my voice is hollow, lacking conviction.
Thorne's eyes narrow. "You're not fine. This isn't just about the mission. It's about you losing control."
It's still about the mission.
I don't have the energy to argue. "I said I'm fine. Just leave me alone."
Thorne's sigh is heavy, filled with frustration. He leaves me to my solitude, and the silence in the room grows oppressive. My skin feels like it's crawling, the patches now spreading to my arms and legs. I look at myself in the mirror again, the grotesque reflection making me want to tear my own skin off.
...
...
The aftermath of the mission has left V8's headquarters in disarray. The briefing room is a battlefield of conflicting emotions. Titan paces, his frustration evident. The damage from the warehouse is significant, and the operation has raised serious concerns about Rhan's stability.
The lead operative, a woman with silver hair tied in a tight bun, addresses Titan's team. "We have a serious issue on our hands. Velocity's powers are out of control, and the fallout from the warehouse incident has put us in a vulnerable position."
Aria, her sound waves crackling with agitation, nods. "We need to reassess our strategy. If Rhan's radiation continues to destabilize, he could endanger all of us."
Flint's face is grim. "And what about the fallout from the mission? The warehouse was just the beginning. We have to deal with the consequences now."
Lumina, her light dimming with worry, adds, "We need to find a solution before this spirals further. We can't afford another mistake."
The room is tense, each member of Titan's team grappling with the weight of the situation. The fallout from the mission is not just physical but emotional, and the strain is taking its toll on everyone involved.
...
...
I'm in the med bay, lying on a cold examination table. The lights are harsh, and the medical staff move around me with clinical detachment, almost as if I'm less than them. They're checking my radiation levels, their faces masks of professional concern. I'm barely listening, my mind trapped in a cycle of self hate and fear.
Thorne stands nearby, his expression a mix of worry and frustration. "Rhan, you need to listen. It's about you losing control. If you can't manage your powers, we're all in danger."
Shut the hell up.
I grit my teeth, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I know. I fucked up. Just get it over with."
The medical staff work in silence, their instruments beeping and whirring as they monitor the radiation levels. I can feel the heat radiating from me, a constant reminder of how close I am to losing it completely. The more they monitor me, the more I feel like a specimen under a microscope.
The med bay is a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The room is sterile and cold, a place where the physical and emotional wounds of the heroes are laid bare. Rhan's condition is deteriorating, and the medical staff are doing their best to contain the fallout.
Thorne's concern is palpable. He watches Rhan, his thoughts conflicted. "We need to find a way to stabilize him before he becomes a liability," he says quietly to one of the med techs.
The med tech nods, adjusting the monitors. "We're doing everything we can. His radiation levels are off the charts. If this continues, we might have to consider containment protocols."
Thorne's face hardens. "We can't let it come to that. Not yet. We need to find a solution that doesn't involve drastic measures."
The med techs continue their work, their faces a mix of concentration and concern. The situation is dire, and the tension is mounting.
...
I'm back in my room, the quietness almost unbearable. My skin feels like it's on fire, the patches spreading further, now covering most of my body. I can't escape the feeling that something inside me is breaking apart, and the darkness is growing stronger.
I pace the room, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest and the radiation that seems to seep from every pore. My hands are trembling, and I can see the sharp, jagged edges of my nails as they dig into my palms. The mirror reflects a twisted, monstrous version of myself, and I can't stand to look at it.
The door bursts open, and Thorne steps in, his face set in a hard line. "Rhan, we need to talk. Now."
I'm too exhausted to argue. "What's the point?" I snap. "I'm losing it, and there's nothing anyone can do about it."
Thorne's eyes are filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "You need to get a grip. If you can't control your powers, we'll have to confine you."
The threat stings, but it's the truth. I can feel the darkness closing in, and I'm losing the fight. "Fine. Do what you have to do."
Thorne's face softens slightly, but the worry remains. "We'll find a way. Just... try to hang on."
As Thorne leaves, I'm left alone with my thoughts, the fear and despair swirling around me. The darkness is growing stronger, and I'm struggling to hold on.
I hope this ends soon.