Chapter 2
Bright and early Monday morning, Horraine sat up in his bed, mildly surprised he hadn't been woken up by explosions.
"So far, so calm," he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
He stretched, letting out a yawn, before glancing at the glowing system screen hovering in the corner of his vision.
12:45:38
"Should I even bother going to school today?" Horraine mumbled to himself. "Wouldn't be the worst idea to skip. With everything going on, who knows what chaos I might run into on the way there? Besides, it's not like anything important is going to happen in class."
Still, the thought of wasting the day didn't sit right with him. Maybe he'd check in with the old crew instead. But before that—
"Status."
The system screen blinked, pulling up his stats.
Status
Name: Horraine Pinto
Race: Human
Age: 17
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Titles: None
Stats
STR: 34
SPD: 60
DEX: 43
NRG: 100
Abilities
Infinite Arsenal
Mastery Percentage: 1%
"Can I create something useful yet?" Horraine thought, squinting at the screen. He let out a resigned sigh. "Meh, that can wait."
He swung his legs off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. A quick, cold shower jolted him fully awake. He stepped out, drying off before tossing on a simple black t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and some scuffed-up black sneakers. With a final glance at himself in the mirror, he headed outside.
The moment he stepped out into the heat of the Jamaican morning, Horraine was greeted by chaos. A burning car sat in the middle of the road, surrounded by people dressed in black hoods.
He stared at the scene, blinking in disbelief. "Nope."
Spinning on his heel, he turned and walked in the opposite direction.
It's way too early for this crap.
As he strolled along the sidewalk, snippets of conversations drifted to his ears. Some neighbors discussed the madness with an air of indifference, brushing it off with remarks like, "Is it putting food on my plate?" Others were less dismissive, declaring that this was the end of days.
"And here I thought Mondays couldn't get any worse," Horraine muttered under his breath.
It didn't take him long to reach his destination: the gates of Excelsior High School.
"It never ceases to amaze me how little this place cares about its students' well-being," Horraine remarked, peering through the gates.
The chaos inside was just as expected. Students practiced their newfound abilities with reckless abandon. A girl floated past clutching a desk like it was her last lifeline. Another boy teleported into a trash can, flailing helplessly.
Horraine barely dodged stray droplets of lava that came from a ball of lava that splashed against the gate, melting a portion of it.
The only adult in sight was a lone teacher valiantly attempting to usher students to class. Her pleas, predictably, fell on deaf ears.
"Oh, you poor, sweet soul," Horraine murmured. "If they didn't listen to you before, what makes you think they'll start now?"
He glanced at the guard stationed by the gate, who casually picked up his cap and placed it over his face as if to signal, I didn't see a thing.
"Understandable. Have a nice day," Horraine said with a smirk as he passed through the pedestrian gate.
Horraine made his way to the sixth-form building, a structure marginally better maintained than the rest of the school but still bearing the familiar hallmarks of Excelsior's neglect—chipped paint, broken fans, wobbly desks, and chairs.
Inside, the air was thick with the faint smell of cafeteria food wafting from the adjacent building. Scanning the room, Horraine quickly spotted a familiar trio tucked away in a corner.
Damion Phillips, the only male in the group, sat hunched over his laptop. He had short black hair, dark brown eyes, and dark skin, wearing the standard sixth-form boys' uniform: a white button-up shirt, green tie, and brown khakis.
To his left, Theo Campbell—known to her friends as Shea—was leaning over to look at Damion's screen. Her short, dark hair framed her light brown skin, and she wore the girls' uniform: a white blouse with green accents and a gray skirt.
Shanice Simmons sat back in her chair, balancing it precariously on two legs. A pen floated lazily in the air above her hand, glowing faintly. Her brown hair hung in loose waves down her back, and her expression screamed unbothered.
Damion glanced up and spotted Horraine approaching.
"Yo! Look who decided to bless us with his presence!"
"Haha, go screw yourself," Horraine shot back, rolling his eyes as he strolled over. "Anyway, how's everyone doing?"
"Alive, for the most part," Damion replied, earning nods of agreement from Theo and Shanice.
"Yeah, sounds about right." Horraine pulled up a chair and sat down. "Okay, before we continue this little reunion, show of hands—who here thinks giving humanity powers was the single dumbest idea in history?"
Before he could even finish the sentence, all three hands shot up.
"Right. Glad we're all on the same page. So, how's Excelsior dealing with… this?" Horraine asked, gesturing vaguely around.
"Dem still a charge school fee, though," Theo quipped.
Horraine froze mid-thought. "Wait, you're joking."
"Deathly serious," Theo replied with a straight face.
"Damn," Horraine said, shaking his head.
"Dem more criminal than thief, mi swear," Shanice chimed in.
"Preach, pastor, preach," Damion added.
"They don't follow rules either," Shanice continued, crossing her arms.
"Did they ever?" Horraine, Theo, and Damion said in unison.
"Fair point."
"Anyway," Horraine said, shifting the topic. "Moment of truth—what powers did you all pick? Everyone except Shanice. I already know hers."
Shanice flipped him off.
"Classy," Horraine said with a grin, ignoring her. "Damion, you first."
"Well, I didn't really pick a power. I made one—or, more accurately, recreated one." Damion leaned back in his chair. "Remember that novel Bob was working on?"
"Yeah, I do," Horraine said. "What about it?"
"Do you remember the character based on me?"
"Oh, you mean the one with Spatial Exchange?"
"That's the one."
"Nice."
"Uh, hello?" Shanice interjected, gesturing between herself and Theo. "Some context, please?"
Damion sighed. "Fine. Spatial Exchange is a space-time ability that lets me swap places with anything—or anyone—I want."
"Ohhh," Shanice and Theo said in unison.
"Your turn, Theo," Horraine said.
"My ability is called Divine Armory. I can create any weapon or armor I can imagine."
"Twins," Horraine said with a smirk.
"Do you have the same ability?" Theo asked.
"No, but it's similar."
"Hold it!" Shanice interrupted. "It's my turn!"
"Did you miss when I said everyone but you? I already know your ability is telekinesis."
"Actually, it's psychokinesis," Shanice corrected smugly.
"Oh, so you have the slightly better version," Horraine teased.
A chair flew past his head, embedding itself in the wall.
Horraine stared at her, wide-eyed, as two more chairs floated menacingly behind her. "Wait, let me tell you something! Let me tell you something!"
Theo poked Shanice in the side, disrupting her concentration and causing the chairs to clatter to the ground.
"Calm down. You can't kill him yet," Theo said.
"Fine." Shanice huffed and crossed her arms.
Horraine cleared his throat. "Anyway, my ability is called Infinite Arsenal. Long story short, I can create any ability—as long as I understand how it works. Restrictions apply, of course."
"Have you made anything yet?" Theo asked.
"Nope. Holding off for now." Horraine said with a shrug.
"Wait," Shanice said, narrowing her eyes. "You're roasting me about my choice abilities, and you don't even have one to actually defend yourself yet?"
"Yup."
"You're ridiculous."
"What can I say? I'm just that good."
"Whatever."
Chapter 2: End