Wilson woke up to the faint sounds of birds chirping outside the cabin. For the first time in days, he felt a glimmer of hope. Mrs. Louis had offered to train him, to help him understand and control the Surge. It was an opportunity to turn his pain into something useful, something that could make a difference.
As he stepped outside, Louis was already waiting for him. She stood in the clearing near the cabin, her arms crossed and a stern look on her face.
"Ready to get started?" she asked.
Wilson nodded, the weight of everything he'd been through making him determined to succeed.
Louis wasted no time. "The first thing you need to understand about the Surge is that it's unpredictable. It's tied to your emotions anger, fear, grief. Those feelings can make it stronger, but they also make it harder to control."
Wilson frowned. "So, I have to stop feeling things? Just… shut it all down?"
Louis shook her head. "No. You don't suppress your emotions you channel them. You need to use them as fuel, not let them use you. Otherwise, the Surge will control you, not the other way around."
Her words made sense, but Wilson wasn't sure how to apply them. The Surge had always felt like a raging storm inside him, impossible to predict or contain. How was he supposed to channel something so wild?
"Let's start small," Louis said, interrupting his thoughts. She picked up a smooth stone from the ground and handed it to him. "I want you to focus on lifting this. No explosions, no shockwaves—just lift it."
Wilson stared at the stone in his hand, his brow furrowing. "That's it?"
Louis smirked. "If you think it's easy, then prove it."
Wilson closed his eyes and focused, reaching for the Surge within him. He felt its energy hum beneath his skin, hot and restless. As he concentrated, the stone began to tremble in his palm. Slowly, it lifted into the air, hovering a few inches above his hand.
He grinned, a flicker of pride lighting up his face. "I did it!"
Louis raised an eyebrow. "Good. Now keep it there."
The stone wobbled as Wilson's concentration faltered. The Surge flared erratically, and the stone shot upward before crashing to the ground.
Wilson sighed in frustration. "It's harder than it looks."
"Control takes time," Louis said. "The Surge is like a muscle you have to train it. And just like a muscle, it'll hurt before it gets stronger."
BUILDING CONTROL
Over the next few hours, Louis pushed Wilson through a series of exercises. She had him lift objects of different weights, control their movements, and even hold them steady in midair. When he succeeded, she increased the challenge, introducing multiple objects or asking him to create gravitational pulls to shift them.
Wilson struggled at first, but as the day went on, he began to improve. His movements became more precise, his focus sharper. For the first time since the Surge had entered him, he felt like he was starting to understand it.
After one particularly challenging task, where he successfully manipulated a heavy log to hover for several minutes, he turned to Louis with wide eyes. "This is… incredible. I had no idea I could do stuff like this."
Louis gave him a rare smile. "You've got potential, Wilson. But don't let it go to your head. What you're doing now is basic. The Ministrians won't give you the luxury of slow practice. Out there, it'll be life or death."
Her words sobered him. The memory of his mother's death flashed through his mind, and his hands tightened into fists.
"I'll be ready," he said quietly.
A Moment of Reflection
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting the clearing in warm orange light, Louis called an end to the training. Wilson, his body aching and his mind buzzing, was surprised when she handed him a knife and a few vegetables.
"Come help me cook," she said simply.
They worked side by side in comfortable silence, chopping vegetables and stirring a pot over the fire. The simple act of preparing a meal felt strange to Wilson after everything he'd been through, but it also gave him a chance to breathe.
Once the food was ready, they sat on the porch of the cabin, plates in hand. The stew was hearty and warm, and for a moment, Wilson felt almost normal.
Louis broke the silence first. "So, what kind of life did you have before all this?"
Wilson hesitated, his spoon pausing halfway to his mouth. "Not much of one," he said finally. "I lived with my mom. She worked all the time, so I was on my own a lot. My dad… he was killed when I was a kid."
Louis nodded, her expression neutral. "By the Ministrians?"
"Yeah," Wilson said, his voice tight. "He spoke out against them, said they were destroying the planet. One day, he just… disappeared. We didn't even get a body. And now…" His voice cracked, and he stared down at his plate. "They killed my mom too. Right in front of me."
Louis was quiet for a long moment. "I'm sorry," she said softly.
Wilson's hands trembled as he set his plate aside. "I hated them before. But now… it's not just hate. It's something worse. I want to make them pay for everything they've done."
Louis placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm. "Anger's a powerful motivator, but it's also dangerous. If you let it control you, you'll end up just like them. You want justice, not revenge. Remember that."
Wilson nodded, though her words didn't erase the burning fury inside him.
LOOKING AHEAD
As the night deepened, Louis leaned back, staring at the stars. "Tomorrow, we'll push harder," she said. "You've made progress, but there's still a long way to go. The Ministrians won't stop hunting you, Wilson. And if you want to survive, you'll need more than power. You'll need control."
Wilson gazed at the sky, his mind racing. For the first time since the Surge entered him, he felt like he had a purpose something to fight for.
"I'll do whatever it takes," he said firmly.
Louis nodded, a flicker of approval in her eyes. "Good. Then let's see what you're really made of."