Zane's breath caught as the man materialized in the Chronochamber, his black cloak swirling like liquid shadow. His eyes glowed blue, just like Zane's when the Synthorium kicked in, and his voice, smooth and cold cut through the humming air. "Zane Edwin, we need to talk." The words hung heavy, and the platform's sparks flared, casting jagged light across The Vault's shimmering walls.
Zane's heart pounded, his chest still aching from Mara's attack. The Synthorium's blue glow flickered under his skin, weak after the fight. He stepped back, hands raised, ready for another battle. Mara was gone, defeated but escaped with her hate and a Synthorium fragment. Now this guy? "Who are you?" Zane demanded, his voice shaky. "And what do you want?"
Jaxon tensed beside him, his armored jumpsuit scratched but glowing faintly. "Yeah, buddy, start talking. We've had enough surprises." His fists clenched, ready to swing.
Liora's sparks crackled, her green eyes narrowing. "He's a Synthorium host," she said, voice low. "Like Zane. But stronger I guess." She glanced at Mr. Corin, who stood by the console, his silver hair catching the light, his face unreadable.
The man raised a hand, palm open. "I'm not here to fight," he said, his tone softening. "My name's Kael. I'm… like you, Zane. From the Virellion Expanse." His blue eyes dimmed, revealing a weathered face, lined with grief. "And I know what you're going through."
Zane's stomach twisted. Virellion Expanse? The place Mr. Corin mentioned—where the Synthorium came from. He didn't trust this guy, not after Mara's betrayal, but something in Kael's voice felt real. "You don't know me," Zane said, lowering his hands but staying ready. "And I'm not buying the 'we're the same' speech."
Kael's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Fair. But I've lost people too. My family, my world gone because I didn't step up when I had the chance." He stepped closer, his cloak parting to reveal a sleek, metallic chestplate pulsing with blue light. "The Synthorium chose you, Zane. Not just to survive, but to protect. The world needs you."
Zane's chest tightened. Protect? He wasn't a hero. He was a mechanic, a part-time thief who'd messed up lives—like Mara's. He thought of Clara, his foster mom, probably pacing their apartment, and Sophia, his best friend, hurting over his "Might Be Alive Feed" on the news. "I didn't ask for this," he snapped. "I just want my life back."
Kael's eyes softened. "I know. But running won't keep them safe. The Synthorium's a beacon. Others will come,worse than the one you faced. You can't hide from this."
Zane's hands shook, guilt and fear crashing together. Mara's tears, her brother's death, they were on him. Now Kael was saying more would come? He couldn't do this. "I'm done," he said, voice breaking. He pushed past Jaxon, ignoring Liora's sharp look, and stormed toward the chamber's exit. "I'm going home."
"Zane!" Mr. Corin called, his voice sharp. "You're not ready—"
"Let him go," Kael said, stopping Mr. Corin. "He needs to see for himself."
Zane didn't look back. He ran through The Vault's twisting halls, the Synthorium's hum faint but steady. He didn't care about Kael, the Synthorium, or some cosmic duty. He needed Clara's warm hugs, Sophia's teasing grin. He needed to know they were okay.
The Vault's cloaking let him slip into New York City's streets unnoticed. The night air hit him, cold and sharp, the city's lights blurring as he jogged toward his apartment in Brooklyn. His hospital gown was gone, replaced by spare clothes from The Vault—but he felt exposed, like the world could see the blue lines under his skin.
He reached the familiar brownstone, its chipped paint and creaky stairs home in a way nothing else was. He hesitated at the door, heart racing. The news had shown his face—NEW EVIDENCE SUGGESTS SURVIVAL. What if they hated him for disappearing? He knocked, soft at first, then harder.
The door flew open, and Clara stood there, her gray hair messy, her eyes wide. "Zane?" she gasped, pulling him into a hug before he could speak. "Oh, my boy, you're alive!"
Zane hugged her back, tears stinging his eyes. Her warmth, her meatloaf-scented kitchen, it was everything he'd missed. "I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Sophia appeared behind Clara, her dark hair in a messy bun, her face pale. "Zane?" Her voice cracked, and she shoved past Clara, punching his arm before hugging him tight. "You jerk! We thought you were dead!"
Zane's throat closed up. Sophia's warmth, her familiar lavender shampoo, hit him hard. He loved her, always had, but he couldn't tell her that, not now. "I'm okay," he lied, pulling back. "Just… got caught up."
Clara's eyes narrowed, like she saw through him. "Caught up?" She led him inside, shutting the door. "The news said you were in an explosion, Zane. What happened?"
Zane sat on their worn couch, the lie bitter on his tongue. He couldn't tell them about the Synthorium, The Vault, Mara. Not when hunters were out there. "It was a mix-up," he said, avoiding Sophia's gaze. "I got out, but I had to lay low."
Sophia crossed her arms. "Lay low? You couldn't call? We were planning your funeral!" Her eyes glistened, and Zane's heart broke.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice low. "I didn't want to hurt you."
Clara sat beside him, her hand on his. "Zane, you're here now. That's what matters." She studied him, her gray eyes soft but sharp. "You're carrying something heavy, I can tell. Whatever it is, remember, you're a good person. Keep doing good."
Zane's chest ached, Clara's words hitting like a lifeline. She didn't know about his powers, but she knew him. He nodded, unable to speak.
Sophia sighed, sitting on his other side. "Just don't vanish again, okay? I can't lose you." Her hand brushed his, and Zane's heart skipped, but he pulled away, afraid the Synthorium's glow would show.
"I won't," he promised, hating the lie. He stayed for an hour, eating Clara's leftover meatloaf, laughing at Sophia's bad jokes. But the Synthorium hummed, reminding him of Kael's words: The world needs you.
Later, Zane walked the city, the skyline glittering under a starry sky. He passed kids playing basketball, a street vendor selling hot dogs, lives he'd always protected in his own way, stealing to help, never to hurt. Mara's pain, Kael's loss, Clara's advice, they swirled in his head. He couldn't run from this. The Synthorium chose him. Clara was right—he had to do good.
He turned back toward The Vault, resolve hardening. If he was going to fight evil, he'd do it his way. He'd rebuild The Vault, make it stronger. And he'd build something to keep his normal life safe, a suit, like the heroes in movies, to hide who he was.
Back at The Vault, Jaxon greeted him with a grin. "Knew you'd be back, rookie." Liora nodded, her sparks calm for once. Kael waited, his blue eyes steady.
"I'm in," Zane said, voice firm. "But I need something. A suit. Something to keep me… me." He touched his chest, where the Synthorium shard hummed. "I can build it."
Kael smiled. "Then let's get to work."
Zane stepped into a lab, Synthorium fragments glowing around him. He'd call it SYNEX-01—his shield, his secret. As he started sketching, the Synthorium hummed, ready to create. But a faint red light blinked in the corner, unnoticed, pulsing like a countdown.