When the group stepped outside, they were greeted by nothing but devastation.
The turrets that once loomed menacingly over the facility were now reduced to twisted metal and smoking rubble. Craters scarred the earth, the sheer force of Hal's assault having ripped through the ground like a storm of wrath.
Sam stared at the aftermath in silence, his expression unreadable. He glanced at Roberto beside him—same cold gaze, same quiet uncertainty. Neither knew exactly how to feel. Fear? Awe? Relief? After all, Hal was on their side… right?
"Can any of you do this?" Dani asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet, not accusing—just… curious.
Sam shook his head wordlessly.
Roberto hesitated. "Maybe," he said with a shrug that didn't feel confident. "I don't know."
"You've never told us what your power really is," Dani pointed out. "Might be a good time."
Roberto sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You'll find out soon enough."
Before Dani could press further, they reached the clearing. Hal was already there, standing still at the edge of the invisible barrier, waiting. His expression was unreadable—no anger, no satisfaction. Just calm.
"You made it," Hal said, nodding.
"How do we get out?" Roberto asked, scanning the perimeter. "This thing's still up."
"I'm not sure," Hal admitted. "But I'm going to try something. Stay back."
"Whatever you say." Roberto raised his hands and stepped aside.
Hal turned toward the force field. He reached out, letting his palm rest against the invisible wall. Immediately, threads of glowing energy crackled and began flowing into him, like streams being pulled into a void. The force field shimmered, flickering at the point of contact.
He didn't know how much of it he could absorb. Greed was a dangerous power—limitless, maybe. Or maybe not. He had no idea where the edge was… only that he hadn't reached it yet.
Hal took a breath and pushed deeper.
Then, without warning, the entire field flickered once more—and collapsed.
Gone. Just like that.
"What?" Hal blinked, stunned. "That was… anticlimactic."
"What did you do?" Dani asked, frowning.
"Nothing," Hal said slowly. "It just… dropped. Maybe a failsafe."
He glanced back at the others. "Whatever. Let's move. Before someone else shows up."
Once again, no one argued. Bags slung over shoulders, boots crunching over scorched earth, the group walked through the invisible line that had once kept them caged.
Now, they were free.
As the group stepped past the invisible boundary, Hal suddenly stopped.
The others turned to him. "What is it?" Roberto asked, brows furrowed.
"You guys go on," Hal said, his voice calm but distant. "See if there's anything nearby—something to tell us where we are. I need to take care of something... one last thing."
"You sure?" Roberto hesitated. "Splitting up now doesn't feel like the best idea. Maybe we just wait around here."
Hal gave a faint smile. "Alright. Wait nearby, if you want."
With that, he rose slowly into the air, the green shimmer of his power curling around him like smoke. He left the group behind and hovered above the rehabilitation center, the place that had, for a short time, tried to shape him into something else.
He stared down at it. How long had he been here? A few weeks? Less? Yet it felt like a lifetime since he'd first opened his eyes in that sterile infirmary, unsure of who he was or where he belonged.
Hal took a slow breath.
Willpower.
Of all the emotions he drew from, will was the one he never lacked. It had kept him going through everything—years of lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines, alone, alive only because he refused to give up. Even when his body was broken, his spirit had burned too stubbornly to quit.
And now, in this new life, in this new world, he wouldn't just survive. He would live. On his terms.
That meant no one could return here—not him, not the others, and certainly not the people who built this place. There was too much evidence here. Too many ghosts.
And he needed to make a statement to the ones who have built this place.
He closed his eyes, focused. Reached deep.
With pure will, he envisioned it: a massive rock, bigger than anything he had ever summoned before. A floating mountain of light and force, so huge that its presence blocked the sun, casting the building beneath it into an unnatural twilight.
Then—boom.
The rock materialized overhead, suspended in the sky like divine judgment.
Without hesitation, Hal hurled it downward.
The earth shuddered.
A sound like the sky cracking open roared across the forest.
And the Milbury Rehabilitation Center was no more.
—
Roberto stood frozen as Hal descended toward them, his face pale, bag clutched tightly to his chest. He glanced around at the others—they all wore the same shaken expression. No one spoke for a moment.
"Remember when I said I wasn't sure if I could ever do what Hal just did?" Roberto finally muttered. "Well… now I know. I can't."
Hal landed softly in front of them, expression unreadable. He didn't ask how they were, didn't comment on what he'd just done.
"Let's keep moving," he said simply.
The rest of the group nodded in quiet agreement, too stunned to argue. Hal took the lead, and they followed, walking along a dirt road that cut through the trembling forest—trees still swaying from the shockwave he had unleashed.
They moved in silence, descending a gentle slope until they came to an abrupt stop.
A checkpoint.
They ducked into the trees, crouching low, eyes fixed on the small structure ahead. It wasn't large, but it wasn't tiny either—just enough to hold a few rooms, maybe a couple of guards.
"I smell blood," Rahne whispered, her voice tight.
"Do you hear anything?" Hal asked without turning.
She winced. "No... my ears still haven't healed completely. Sorry."
Hal gave a soft hum. "That's my fault. I should've warned you."
He stepped out from the cover of the trees, approaching slowly, cautiously. His brow furrowed as he focused, trying to feel through the haze of leftover destruction. Then—there it was. One person inside. A presence so heavy, so full of repressed pain, it felt like gravity itself pressing down on his bones.
Just one.
He turned back to the others and motioned them forward.
"There's only one person in there," he said quietly.
Dani narrowed her eyes. "How do you know that?"
"I sense emotions," Hal replied. "That's how I find people. You should be able to, too—with your ability."
Dani blinked. "Wait… how do you know my ability?"
Hal sighed, offering a thin smile. "I read your file, Moonstar. Remember?"
She rolled her eyes but smirked slightly. "Call me Dani."
Hal said nothing as he stepped toward the checkpoint, a quiet hum escaping him. The others followed behind, tense but silent. He reached the door and pushed it open.
The stench hit him instantly—blood, guts, and something worse. It nearly made him recoil.
Inside, the room was dark, save for a faint, eerie glow coming from the figure seated in a chair at the far end. The light flickered off blood-slicked walls and bodies—dozens of them. Torn apart. Discarded like broken dolls.
Illyana sat calmly in the center of the carnage, bathed in red, her expression unreadable. Her blonde hair was matted with blood, some of it her own, most of it not. Behind her, glowing softly, was a control panel.
Hal's eyes narrowed. "So… you're the one who shut down the force field."
Illyana wiped a streak of blood from her cheek with the back of her hand. "Took you long enough, new guy," she muttered, voice dry. "What the hell was all that noise? They send a giant?"
"No," Hal said simply. Somewhere behind him, someone gagged and vomited. He didn't turn. "I destroyed the building."
"Pity," Illyana replied, eyeing him with mild amusement. "I wanted to do that myself."
Hal stepped further into the room, careful not to look too long at the carnage. "Why'd you come back?" he asked. "Thought you didn't want anything to do with us… deadweights."
"I changed my mind." She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "The people behind this place? I want them all dead."
"That's going to be a tall order."
"Oh?" she smirked. "Because I'd have to kill the President or something?"
Hal cracked a faint smile. "Maybe not this time."
"Shame," she said, and whistled low. "I was kind of hoping for that."