"Ah, it's starting!"
A shockingly muscular teenager swims free from another, similarly muscular teen. kicking his legs, he propels himself upwards, freeing the top of his speedo from the water. Raising his hand to receive a pass, a yellow ball slams into it.
falling, he swivels, and then slams the ball into the back of a floating net, past the goalie. The teen raises his hands and roars in triumph, still sinking back into the water.
The score is now six to seven.
On a crowded upper balcony, two other teenagers watch the game.
Absentmindedly, one remarks to the other:
"A close score, but I wouldn't get that excited over it."
The speaker was of average height, size, and looks. He was drenched in water. Wearing a tee shirt and shorts, he had been taken unaware by the rain.
His friend was taller, slightly more muscular, and slightly better looking than the other teen. He was also wearing a hastily applied rain jacket, having checked the forecast that morning.
The exited way the players celebrated the goal seemed overboard to Bolt. It looked like something he would see while watching the Olympics.
He had taken shelter from the rain In the nearby rec center, dragging his buddy Kip along. Settled in the balcony, they were leaning on the railing, looking down at the game below.
The swimmers reformed into their respective lines, preparing for another "kickoff", if one could call it that. It is even possible kick the ball in this game? What do they call it instead, a handoff? To Bolt, both names sounded wrong.
After a minute or so of watching the athletes in their lines, Bolt was already impatient. When were they going to kickhand? Looking down, everyone in the pool seemed slightly misplaced. The athletes were drifting slightly askew from their starting positions, the ones closest to the sides grabbed onto them, staring into what seemed to be blank space.
Glancing around the bottom floor, the officials, coaches, and aides weren't pushing to start either, like they should be. Instead, they were also staring forward, seemingly into nothing.
leaning further forward, Bolt squinted his eyes. What is happening? One official raised his hand to his chin to stroke it, looking into the distance. It was almost like he was contemplating something.
Boggled, Bolt was suddenly pulled back and shook, rather violently, from his side. Kip.
"Hey man, are you seeing this?" His friend sounded oddly frantic.
"Yeah, I-"
lifting his head in agreement, Bolt's attention was blocked by opaque floating letters, rigid and unmoving.
[Pitch your superpower, and test it against Feasibility!]
[Feasibility: 15]
[Pitch power: _]
What?
All around Bolt, he could hear the low murmur of confusion.
In front of him now, Kip was still trying to get his attention.
"Hey, are you listening? I think something big is going to happen, have you read the letters??"
Bolt looked around him. It seemed like everyone he could see was looking at something invisible. Some were mumbling into the air, some talking to each other, some silent.
"Hey man, you better pitch a good power, whatever that means."
Hhuh. Yep. This was getting weird.
"I don't know about you, but I need to go. I've got to find my kid sister."
To the right of Bolt, an old man silently immolated, seemingly immune into the flames. The pool hosting the game turned green, and then evaporated, dropping any swimmers still in it to the concrete bottom below. A shrill noise emanated from outside, overpowering the ambience of the late summer showers.
"Hey, what are you going to pick? I might choose something like super speed. Bolt are you listening??"
Kip was rambling. Bolt knew he must be as freaked out as himself. All around the two, chaos was beginning to bubble. The upper balcony of the crowded rec center seemed to be only moments from it. Surveilling the scene, Bolt suddenly realized that he did not want to be on that balcony, or even in the rec center anymore.
"Bolt?"
Panicked and unprepared, Bolt made his response.
"Yeah, I pick the ability to get out of here!"
[Appraising…]
[Approved.]
Kip looked at him, in shock, inferring what had happened. Bolt couldn't believe himself either. It listened?
Before either of them could do anything else, Bolt disappeared.
Or rather, he left.
The balcony he was in was replaced with a dull white sky, he was falling. A second later, the back of his head struck something hard, and his white world turned dark.
Some time later, Bolt opened his eyes to the same plain white sky. The first thing he noticed was the aching in the back of his skull. Not great. He was sprawled out on his back, on what he assumed was another white surface. His head hurt.
The same opaque lettering from earlier floated just above his head, parallel to the ceiling, and still. Squinting his eyes, he read:
[Congratulations, your power has been reviewed, and approved!]
[Name: GTFO!]
[Iteration: Final!]
[Ranking: Near Useless!]
[Cost: Free!]
[Description: A panicked child asked to leave, and was granted his wish. Now he can leave anything, anywhere, anytime, and come to the box!]
If it was a box he was in, it was quite the large one. Though he couldn't tell how far up that dull white ceiling was, it looked like a sky that stretched forever.
Additionally, there was a separate piece of text, a counter of some sort, to the right of the appraisal text.
[5,103,622,603]
it was not a static counter, it changed often. As Bolt watched, the number decreased at a staggering rate, hundreds of… …units… …every second. Every once in a while, the number would drop significantly, from a thousand to one hundred thousand. He even saw it drop by what must have been a couple million, once.
And he did watch, because honestly, there was nothing else to do. Bolt's head hurt too much to think, so he simply didn't. Plus, he had brought nothing with him - his phone was somehow dead, and staring at the endless white expanse got old quickly.
Right now, he didn't want to go back to the madness that must be where he came from, not just yet. Did that man really just burst into flames?
Despite his cowardice, He worried for his family, and Kip who must still be living through whatever had started at that balcony earlier. Bolt worried, but he didn't want to go back just yet, if he even could. He had seen what transgressed at the rec center before he left. He would not go back into that chaos.
Rubbing his head, he stared at the counter.
After quite some time, it froze.
[1,000,000,000]
Idly twiddling his thumbs, Bolt was alerted by a new, ominous block of letters.
[Congratulations, you who have survived! I hope you have enjoyed your period of unbridled power!]
Interesting. Right now, Bolt did not feel very powerful. Rubbing his head, he continued to read.
[The first phase, Exploration, is now over, Prepare for the second phase, Justification!]