A good day for the Pride family turned into one filled with troubling news. The doctors spent long hours running tests and analyzing results to confirm the diagnosis. Their last doubts vanished when the morning sun broke through the hospital windows, pulling the infant back from the brink of death and filling him with life. However, this discovery raised more questions than answers.
Escanor was alive, but the doctors warned his parents that his condition was unstable. Christina, the baby's mother, was overwhelmed with worry and refused to part with him for even a second, despite the assurances of the medical staff.
"Listen, my love," Matthew said softly, wrapping a gentle arm around her shoulders. "If you don't let the doctors take him, they won't be able to help. Do it for Escanor."
Christina sobbed, pressing the baby to her chest one last time before reluctantly handing him over to a nurse.
"Alright… only for him," she whispered through tears.
As the doctors carried the child away, Matthew frowned and quickly caught up with one of them. Grabbing the doctor by the elbow, he firmly pressed him against the wall.
"Now tell me the truth," he growled through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing with anger.
The doctor sighed, realizing there was no way to avoid the conversation.
"We can ease his symptoms and stabilize him, but we don't know how to cure him completely," he admitted, lowering his gaze.
"Who does?" Matthew asked tensely, a glimmer of hope in his voice.
"No one. Your son is a unique case. His condition is directly tied to the sun. The moment its rays touch his skin, he becomes completely healthy. But as soon as the sun sets, his strength rapidly fades. We have no explanation for this phenomenon," the doctor said, spreading his hands helplessly.
Matthew remained silent as the doctor carefully freed himself and walked away. Left alone, he whispered:
"I promise, Escanor. I'll find a way to save you."
Thus began the difficult life of the Pride family. After Escanor was discharged from the hospital, Matthew and Christina embarked on a journey around the world in search of a cure for their son. They sought out the best specialists, but even they could only shrug in confusion. A year of searching yielded no results, and exhausted, they were forced to give up.
Despite his unusual condition, Escanor grew into a strong and intelligent boy. He learned to walk quickly and, from an early age, tried to showcase his "masculinity." It was an amusing sight a small child, solemnly lifting his toy "weights," bringing smiles to his parents' faces. The family was happy, though difficult days sometimes came, especially in winter, when sunlight was scarce.
Understanding how vital the sun was for Escanor, Matthew found specialists who equipped their home with a special room filled with ultraviolet lamps. There, the boy could spend dark winter days absorbing the light he so desperately needed. A professional nanny was hired to monitor his condition and provide first aid if necessary.
And so, amid constant care and concern, the years passed unnoticed. By the time Escanor turned six, his uniqueness became even more apparent. His body developed faster than that of his peers he looked like an eight-year-old with well-defined muscles. However, the moment the sun set, his appearance and behavior changed drastically. He became thin, weak, and pale, as if all his strength had been drained from him.
This transformation affected not only his body but also his personality. Under the sun's rays, Escanor was bold, proud, and even a little cocky. He fearlessly climbed the tallest trees and rushed headfirst into any challenge. No danger could frighten him. But as soon as the sun disappeared, he turned into a timid, fearful boy. At night, Escanor hid under his blanket, trembling at every sound. It took him a long time to fall asleep, convinced that terrible monsters lurked under his bed or in the closet.
The parents did their best to surround him with care and love, ensuring he felt comfortable despite all the difficulties. They sacrificed a lot for their son, which sometimes strained their relationship. However, despite the occasional arguments, they always found a way to reconcile, for one thing mattered above all else the happiness and health of their extraordinary boy.
When Escanor turned six, it was time for him to start school. He was enrolled in one of the best elementary schools in the city. From the very first day, he stood out among his peers due to his height and physical strength. At first glance, one might have thought he was older than the others or had been held back due to poor academic performance. But in reality, he was the same age as his classmates.
The teachers quickly grew fond of him for his curiosity and exemplary behavior. Escanor absorbed new material quickly and was a diligent student. However, not everything went smoothly. His art teacher, noticing the boy's unusual drive for perfection, felt a sting of pride. At first, Escanor struggled with drawing, which frustrated him. Determined to prove to himself that he could excel, he practiced relentlessly. Within six months, his drawings surpassed even those of his teacher, which dealt a heavy blow to the instructor's self-esteem. From that moment on, the teacher harbored an inexplicable resentment toward his talented student.
His classmates, initially cautious and slightly wary of his appearance, soon found themselves drawn to Escanor. His charisma and natural bravery attracted them like moths to a flame. He quickly became the center of attention in the class.
Five years of elementary school passed in the blink of an eye. With each year, Escanor grew stronger and more confident. Finally, he entered middle school.
On the very first day, as soon as he stepped onto the sports field during gym class, the coach took immediate notice of him.
"Kid, how old are you?" the coach asked, studying his powerful physique.
"I am young, strong, and have walked this earth for eleven years," Escanor answered proudly, flexing his well-developed body.
"I can see that! You're in excellent shape. Why don't you try out for our football team?" The coach nodded toward the group of boys warming up on the field, tossing a ball between them.
"Hmph. I won't waste my time running back and forth, chasing a ball like a fool," Escanor responded with a smirk.
"You have unique potential," the coach persisted. "You could be the star of the team! Your peers will envy you, and girls love athletes."
Escanor hesitated. His pride wrestled with his desire to prove he was the best at everything.
"I'll think about it," he said, but the gleam in his eyes had already given away his decision.
Thus began the meteoric rise of the "Lions" team. No one could stand against the talent of their young captain. Anyone who dared challenge him found themselves on the ground, defeated in a futile attempt to stop him. He was too fast, too precise. Every shot he took hit its mark with terrifying accuracy.
Before long, people started talking about him. Television channels rushed to cover his incredible games, and sports analysts speculated about his future career. But behind the dazzling success, unseen challenges lurked, waiting for their moment to surface.
Interest in the gifted child extended beyond the world of sports.
One sweltering afternoon, a knock came at the Pride family's door. Standing on the doorstep was a stranger in a sharp black suit, seemingly unbothered by the oppressive heat.
Matthew Pride, the head of the family, opened the door, eyeing the visitor carefully.
"Good afternoon. FBI, Special Agent Phillip Coulson," the man said with a friendly smile, nodding slightly in greeting. He pulled out his badge, displaying it in a way that left no room for doubt.
Matthew's gaze lingered on the badge for a moment before he calmly responded:
"Good afternoon. How can I help you?"
"It's about your son," Coulson began, his tone gentle yet firm. "We've taken notice of his unusual abilities. We need to make sure his gifts don't pose a threat to those around him."
Matthew gave a reserved nod, but deep inside, unease began to creep in.
"And what exactly is wrong with him? He's just a regular kid. He simply... develops faster than others," he replied evenly, though he already knew deep down that this wasn't the truth.
Coulson paused, as if carefully weighing Matthew's words, before finally replying in a calm voice:
"That's exactly what we want to determine, Mr. Pride."
"Do we have the right to refuse?" Matthew asked, a barely noticeable hint of hope in his voice, though he understood all too well refusing the FBI was nearly impossible.
Agent Coulson hesitated slightly.
"Unfortunately, no," he admitted with a hint of awkwardness.
Matthew let out a heavy sigh and stepped aside, gesturing for the agent to enter.
"Then come in."
Coulson stepped over the threshold, his sharp eyes subtly scanning the interior of the house. He took in every detail the family photos on the walls, the books lining the shelves, the vases filled with dried flowers. His gaze lingered for a moment on a small wooden lion figurine resting on the mantelpiece.
They moved into the living room, where Matthew gestured toward the couch. Coulson sat down, carefully placing a small case on the coffee table.
"Darling, could you go get Escanor?" Matthew asked his wife.
Christina silently nodded and headed upstairs.
"And how exactly do you plan to test him?" Matthew asked as he settled into the chair opposite.
"Nothing too serious. We just need a blood sample. This will help us determine if your son has any... unique traits," Coulson explained.
Matthew frowned slightly, as if trying to mask his growing concern. Old stories and research surfaced in his mind legends he had come across during his travels. He had heard whispers about the "X-Gene" and its impact on certain individuals.
A few minutes later, Christina returned to the living room, Escanor following close behind. The boy looked as if this were nothing more than a casual visit from an old friend. He wore a broad, confident smile, and in his eyes shone a certainty as if he already knew that nothing in this world could break him.
"Husband, may I offer you something to drink?" Christina asked as she sat down next to their son.
"Of course. Coffee for me. And you?" Matthew turned to the agent.
"Tea, please. There's already enough coffee at work," Coulson replied with a slight smile.
Christina headed to the kitchen, leaving the men alone.
"Escanor," Matthew began, shifting his gaze from his son to the agent, "this is a special agent from the FBI. He has an important matter to discuss with us."
The teenager, still wearing his confident smile, looked at their guest with curiosity, clearly expecting further explanation.
"Hello, Escanor. I've seen your matches and cheered for your team at every competition," Phillip Coulson greeted him warmly, attempting to establish trust.
"Nice to meet you," Escanor replied politely but succinctly.
Coulson nodded but quickly got to the point, knowing there was little time for formalities.
"We need to run a small test and take a blood sample. Do you mind? It won't hurt at all," he said while opening his case.
Inside was an unusual device: on one side, a small syringe injector, and on the other, a built-in computer with a keyboard and a screen on the lid.
"I'm not afraid of pain," Escanor answered calmly, looking straight into the agent's eyes.
"Impressive," Coulson nodded approvingly, then turned to Matthew. "May I proceed?"
Matthew slowly nodded, though the tension in his eyes was undeniable.
Coulson carefully took the injector, placed it against Escanor's arm, and pressed a button. The device emitted a faint hissing sound as it extracted the blood sample. Escanor didn't even flinch, his expression remaining serene as if nothing had happened.
A few seconds later, the injector flashed green, signaling the process was complete. Coulson placed it into a designated slot inside the case and began typing commands on the keyboard. The screen lit up, displaying lines of code and graphs the analysis had begun.
"In a moment, the preliminary results will be ready, and we'll know if Escanor has any unique traits," Coulson said, keeping his eyes on the screen.
Matthew nervously gripped the armrest of his chair. His mind raced with thoughts of the possible consequences. He clenched his jaw and finally couldn't hold back:
"And what happens if the results come back positive? I won't let you take him."
Coulson momentarily shifted his gaze from the screen to Matthew. His expression was calm, devoid of aggression, yet filled with firm resolve.
"This is for his safety," the agent explained in a measured tone. "You have to understand, there are people and organizations out there who could be a danger to your son. If he truly is special, we can help you protect him."
Matthew shook his head grimly, clearly unsatisfied with the answer.
"And is protection the only reason behind this?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm, sensing there was more to the story.
Coulson hesitated, as if considering how much he could reveal.
"Not entirely," he admitted at last. "But right now, the priority is making sure he's safe."
Matthew turned away in silence, struggling with conflicting emotions. Next to him, Escanor, still smiling with quiet confidence, seemed completely unfazed.
"I can handle this on my own," Matthew said firmly, locking eyes with Coulson.
The agent held his gaze, his tone growing more insistent:
"I'll be honest with youthere are people out there so dangerous that even we struggle to deal with them. Believe me, they are a very real threat."
"Don't worry, Father," Escanor suddenly spoke, his voice steady and even slightly reassuring. "I can handle any opponent."
Coulson sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"Brave, but foolish," he muttered.
Just then, a distinct beep sounded, signaling the completion of the analysis. Coulson immediately turned to the case, his face remaining unreadable, though tension was already building inside him. He glanced at the screen as lines of data filled the display. At the bottom of the report, a single word stood out: "Negative."
"Looks like there was a mistake," he said, carefully controlling his voice. "Your son is, in fact, just an ordinary child. I apologize for the disturbance."
Coulson hurriedly began packing up his equipment. His movements were quick, but there was something off about them an underlying stiffness, almost a hint of deception. Matthew narrowed his eyes but said nothing.
"It's nothing," Matthew finally replied. "So, there are no further questions about my son?"
Coulson hesitated for a brief moment before assuring him, "No, there are no more questions. Sorry for taking up your time. I have a lot of work ahead."
He stood up from the couch, and Matthew, maintaining politeness, escorted him to the door.
At the entrance, they exchanged brief farewells, and the agent walked towards his car. Inside, a growing unease gnawed at him, though he was too experienced to let it show.
Once inside the vehicle, Coulson placed the briefcase on the passenger seat, buckled up, and hesitated. His gaze lingered on the Pride family's house for a few moments. He took a deep breath before reopening the case.
"Something isn't right here," the thought flickered through his mind.
Coulson quickly entered a command to reanalyze the sample. This time, the process ran significantly faster. The screen flickered, and instead of the previous result, a new message appeared:
"Highest Threat Level. Mutant. Rank: Unknown."
His eyes widened. For a few seconds, he remained frozen, feeling his heartbeat pounding in his chest. Then, his expression hardened.
He acted fast immediately deleting the analysis record, ensuring all data was wiped from the device's memory.
His fingers moved instinctively over the built-in systems in his suit, disabling video and audio recording functions. He went even further physically destroying the chips that could have transmitted the information. Once he was certain no traces remained, he closed the case, started the engine, and pulled away from the driveway.
There was no trace of calmness left on his face.
"No one can get their hands on this data."