It was mealtime again. Hal sat back against the wall, casually eyeing the small metal slot in his door as the familiar sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Steady, deliberate—definitely Gregor.
The slot slid open with a clink. A tray appeared, balanced neatly in the opening. As usual, Gregor didn't say a word. She just looked at him—expression unreadable, professional to a fault.
But as she began to pull the tray slot shut, Hal spoke up.
"All right, Doctor," he said, voice calm. "You win."
The metal window paused mid-close. Her eyes met his through the narrow gap.
"I'll tell you what I know about my powers," Hal added. "Not that it'll be much help—I haven't exactly been able to use them since you slapped this wristband on me."
She silently pulled the tray back and shut the window with a metallic snap. A second later, the heavy door creaked open.
"Will you cooperate, then?" she asked from the threshold.
Hal offered her a lopsided grin. "Whatever you need."
—
He was back in her office again.
The slow, steady tick of the wall clock was the only sound in the room. Gregor sat across from him, eyes glued to her tablet, fingers tapping away in bursts of rhythm. Hal just waited, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Eventually, she let out a soft sigh and set the tablet down with a quiet click.
"You can start."
"No," Hal replied. "You can."
Her eyebrow arched slightly, but she didn't protest.
"I mean, what do you already know about my powers?" Hal asked. "Because I'm not gonna waste time explaining stuff you've probably picked apart frame by frame already. I know you've gone through the footage. The day I wrecked half the dorm? You must've watched it a dozen times by now."
"Fine," Gregor muttered with a sigh. She picked up her tablet again, tapped through a few files, then turned the screen toward Hal.
A muted video played. Footage of the fight.
"What's immediately obvious," she began, "is that you have enhanced strength. Superhuman, even. And there's something else—either a form of damage resistance or some kind of invisible barrier. Here—Illyana's sword might as well be hitting solid stone."
Hal leaned forward slightly. Seeing the chaos from an outsider's perspective was surreal. The camera caught every precise movement, every hit. His hits. From this angle, his power felt… undeniable. Real.
Gregor scrubbed forward in the footage. "And this part—watch closely."
She paused the video at the moment Illyana was bound to the ground. Chains, glowing green and translucent, wrapped tight around her.
"You conjured these, didn't you?"
"I think of something… and it shows up," Hal said, eyes still fixed on the screen. "And no, it's not an invisible barrier, or damage resistance."
"Then what is it?"
"I'm not totally sure," Hal admitted. "But if I had to guess? I'd say it's a form of impact absorption."
Gregor didn't respond right away. She rewound the video, this time focusing on the moment Illyana slammed him to the floor. The playback showed the strike—then nothing. No crater. No recoil. No sign he'd felt it at all.
"Kinetic energy absorption?" she murmured. "No… not quite…"
"Energy absorption, maybe," Hal said with a casual shrug. "If we're naming things."
"Incredible…" she breathed. "This could be…"
"Could be what?" Hal asked, cutting in sharply.
Gregor composed herself quickly, ignoring Hal's question and locking her tablet and setting it aside. "Come with me to the training grounds. I want to see it all. For myself."
—
Hal and Dr. Gregor stepped into a secluded chamber off the gymnasium. The room was scorched—walls and floors covered in blackened streaks, signs of intense heat and old explosions. A cluster of battered training dummies stood silently in one corner, their forms singed and half-melted. Overhead, heavy-duty sprinklers were embedded into the ceiling, but they didn't look automatic. A large manual lever near the door confirmed that theory.
"What is this place?" Hal asked, his voice echoing faintly in the charred space.
"A training room," Gregor replied, once again focusing on the tablet in her hands as she typed rapidly. She cast a glance at a small security camera mounted in the corner. "Used by one of your fellow residents."
A few more taps, and she looked up. "Alright. I've disabled your dampener. Let's see what you can do."
Hal flexed his wrist instinctively, feeling the dull thrum of power returning beneath his skin.
"What do you want to see first?" he asked.
"Let's start simple," Gregor said. "Your ability to conjure constructs. Try something a bit more refined—an arrow, maybe. Hit that dummy over there."
Hal rolled his shoulders. "Alright. I'll give it a shot."
He fixed his eyes on the dummy across the room. The charred figure stood still, silent—an easy target. Hal slowed his breathing, let his mind settle. His power required more than just imagination. It demanded will. Focus. Intention.
He pictured the arrow—not just how it looked, but how it felt to hold, to fire. He summoned that image with everything he had. He willed it to existence.
For a second, nothing. Then he felt it—not a visual, but a presence. The arrow, hovering beside him, green and ethereal. He didn't grip it. He simply willed it forward.
With a sharp hiss of air, it flew.
Whoosh. Tap!
The construct embedded itself cleanly in the dummy's head—right between the eyes.
"Impressive," Gregor said, though her tone betrayed little emotion. "But do you know your limits?"
Hal shrugged. "Hard to say. I haven't exactly had much practice… what with being locked up and all."
"Let's change that," Gregor said flatly. "Conjure as many arrows as you can. Let's find your breaking point."
"If you say so," Hal muttered, cracking his neck.
Hal turned back toward the training dummy. This time, he didn't hold back. He summoned every ounce of willpower he could muster and imagined a bundle—no, a rain of arrows. Like the kind you'd see in an epic war film: thousands of them blotting out the sky, tearing through enemy lines.
He took a steadying breath, eyes narrowing as he focused. The air shimmers around him. One by one, glowing green arrows began materializing—not just in front of him, but at his sides, behind him, floating midair, all aimed at the same helpless dummy.
"Alright, alright, stop!" Gregor's voice cracked through the room.
Hal blinked and turned. The arrows had completely filled the space, crowding Gregor, boxing her in with their razor-sharp tips mere inches from her limbs. She couldn't take a step without risking impalement.
In an instant, Hal willed them away. The constructs vanished like mist, leaving the room eerily empty once more.
Gregor exhaled, brushing off her coat with slightly trembling hands. "I… didn't expect that many arrows," she admitted, trying to compose herself. "Alright. Let's move on. I'm not concerned about your superhuman strength—I've seen enough of that. But your… energy absorption. That's the one I want to understand."
Hal tilted his head. "And how exactly are we testing that?"
"Well," Gregor said with a faint smile, setting her tablet down on the floor, "I could kick you. If you'll allow it."
Hal shrugged, deadpan. "Be my guest."
Without waiting, Gregor advanced slowly—then her pace quickened, turning into a sprint. She pivoted, raised her leg, and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick straight to Hal's chest.
Except—she bounced off.
Her foot stopped dead on impact, as if hitting a solid wall. She stumbled backward, lost her balance, and hit the ground with a grunt.
Hal didn't move. But from the point of contact, a soft orange glow had begun to spread across his body like ripples in water. It pulsed faintly, humming with contained energy.
Gregor groaned, pushing herself off the floor with an embarrassed sigh. "Fascinating…" she murmured, grabbing her tablet to take notes. "It's not just kinetic… That glow, that reaction. You might be absorbing energy in all forms. Kinetic, certainly. But if Dani's illusions didn't affect you, it could mean psionic energy too. Possibly even more." She looked up at him, eyes sharp. "The real question is—can you release it?"
Hal looked down at his glowing form. "I… don't know. Maybe?"
Hal inhaled slowly, trying to tap into the energy now thrumming beneath his skin. He could feel it—raw, chaotic, and… vile. It pulsed through him like venom in his veins, whispering that he should keep it, hoard it like a dragon does gold. But Hal gritted his teeth and fought that instinct.
Let it go.
With a sharp exhale, he forced the energy out of him. A burst of force erupted from his body—a low thrum and then boom, a shockwave rippled across the room, flinging Gregor off her feet.
She hit the ground hard, but she was already scrambling upright, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Incredible!" she gasped, brushing off her coat like she hadn't just been knocked flat. "The blood samples I took clearly weren't enough to understand the intricacies of your multiple powers. I need more. Come—we'll go to my office. I'll prepare the equipment immediately."
She turned on her heel and strode toward the exit, tapping notes into her tablet without sparing Hal a second glance.
But as she reached the door, something made her stop. The silence.
Only her own footsteps echoed in the room.
She turned.
Hal hadn't moved. He stood in place, face shadowed with something far colder than confusion—anger. One hand gripped the wristband tight, the tension in his arm coiled like a spring.
Gregor blinked. "What's wrong?"
"What did you just say?" Hal's voice was low, almost calm—but it carried heat, the kind that simmers before it burns.
Gregor hesitated. "I said… I need to study more—"
Before she could finish, Hal crushed the wristband on his wrist with a sharp twist and snap. A piercing alarm blared through the facility, red lights flashing above them.
"You're storing our blood," he said flatly. "Our DNA. You've been collecting samples from all of us. I can't let you do that. That's… dangerous as hell."
Gregor's expression hardened, but it wasn't rage behind her eyes—it was the shivering cold feeling that he had felt from multiple people, the feeling that he now knows as fear.
"What… Do you have any idea what you're doing?" she asked, her voice small now.
Hal took a step forward. "Change of plans," he said. "Illyana, I'm escaping now."
Before Gregor could even form a reply, a dull thud rang out—quick and brutal. Her eyes widened in shock for a split second before her body crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.
She hit the floor hard, completely unconscious.