"I will never get used to this view."
Ash and fire clung to the air like a second skin. Buildings sagged inward, charred bones of a once-living place. Sirens screamed in the distance, swallowed by the roaring blaze.
Kane Crag moved through the ruined street with steady steps, boots crunching on broken glass, his jacket hanging heavy with soot. The fire painted everything in hues of violent orange and sickly black, turning shadows into monsters that danced along the cracked concrete walls. His muscles ached under the weight of exhaustion, but he didn't slow down. He couldn't afford to.
Somewhere ahead, past the collapsed cars and twisted lamp posts, survivors waited trapped, crying out in voices barely audible over the chaos. Kane's jaw tightened. His fingers twitched at his sides, feeling the familiar tension coil inside him.
It was the same feeling he got before every battle, like standing at the edge of a cliff, wind clawing at his back, daring him to jump.
The world around him buckled under the heat. Walls collapsed in slow motion. A burning sign crashed onto the asphalt in front of him, splintering into a shower of sparks. He exhaled slowly, his heartbeat slowed as he drew on the deep, searing core within him, the place where Apex lived.
Strength? Speed? Defense? Intelligence?
A wall of flame surged up ahead, cutting him off from the trapped civilians. Kane didn't hesitate. His body tensed like a drawn bowstring.
Strength.
The world snapped into sharper focus as he triggered Apex. Veins lit under his skin like faintly glowing circuits. His muscles swelled with invisible force, his bones groaning quietly under the sudden, terrifying pressure. The ground cracked under his boots as the power took hold. Every breath felt heavier, more primal, like he could tear the whole burning street apart with his bare hands.
The wall of fire roared in defiance. Kane sprinted forward and with one earth-shaking punch, he smashed through the debris blocking his way. Shattered concrete exploded outward, carried by the shockwave of his strike. The civilians beyond the barrier stared wide-eyed as he appeared through the smoke, a phantom of ash and light.
He staggered for a second, just a second, feeling the strain already biting into his joints, Apex devouring him from within. But he gritted his teeth, pushing the pain down.
Not yet. Not until they were safe. "Move!" he barked, waving them forward, shielding them with his body as they stumbled toward the clearing. Behind him, the fire screamed louder, angry at his defiance. And Kane knew that this was only the beginning.
The world around him groaned and collapsed, an orchestra of shattering glass and roaring flame. Kane surged forward, each step pounding like a war drum against the broken pavement. His breath was steady despite the blistering heat, his body driven by the ruthless command of Apex-enhanced strength. A falling beam crashed down ahead. Without breaking stride, Kane slammed his shoulder into it. The impact cracked the burning wood like a twig, sending splinters showering around him. His muscles screamed in protest, but he didn't falter, couldn't falter. Not now. Through the haze of smoke, he spotted them: two figures trapped beneath a collapsed storefront awning, shielding each other with trembling arms. Civilians. Alive. Kane clenched his fists, feeling the time slipping through his fingers like sand. Strength or speed, he couldn't have both. Apex demanded choices. Always choices. Another explosion rocked the block. No more time. He dropped to one knee, bracing under the wreckage. His hands, alight with borrowed might, dug into the twisted metal and shattered concrete. Groaning under the strain, the debris began to lift, inch by brutal inch. Sweat poured down his forehead; the strain dug nails into his bones. "Go!" Kane barked through gritted teeth. The civilians scrambled free, coughing and sobbing into the smoke. Kane let the weight fall behind him with a deafening crash. He staggered to his feet, blinking through the burning sting in his eyes. Apex's power was already beginning to ebb, the strength bleeding from his limbs like water from a cracked dam.
The fire wasn't waiting. Neither was the next disaster. Somewhere beyond the flame and chaos, Kane could feel it, that pull in his chest, that old, stubborn ache, the one that had dragged him through every fight he'd ever survived. He pushed forward, one heavy step at a time, into the heart of the inferno. The world blurred around him. Heatwaves dancing like angry ghosts, but Kane kept moving. Through the twisted skeleton of the city street, figures emerged.
Catalysts, two of them, racing across the wreckage: one manipulating tendrils of water to punch open safe corridors through the flames, the other generating shimmering forcefields to shield evacuating civilians. Their uniforms marked them as registered responders. Professionals, unlike Kane, who had scraped his way through the unofficial channels. One of them caught sight of him and gave a curt nod. Kane nodded back, a silent warrior's pact in the middle of hell. Overhead, the rhythmic thumping of a helicopter's blades cut through the smoke. A news chopper hovered dangerously low, its spotlight cutting a cone of harsh white through the swirling ash. From somewhere farther down the street, the shrill cries of firetrucks, police cars, and ambulances howled like wolves, growing louder with every passing second. Help was coming. He wasn't alone. For a brief, golden heartbeat, Kane allowed himself to hope. A sharp crack split the air, louder than any falling debris.
Kane's instincts flared like a struck match. From the ruins of a crumbled office building, a figure stepped into the firelight.
Tall. Calm. Smiling. His skin shimmered like polished metal, reflecting the flames in glinting flashes. A Catalyst. Not one here to help. The air seemed to twist around the newcomer, warping the heat and smoke in unnatural patterns. Civilians nearby stumbled, suddenly dizzy, as if gravity itself betrayed them. Kane narrowed his eyes. Apex was still cooling down. His strength had burned itself out moments ago, and speed, intelligence or defense weren't ready to take its place yet. He was standing in front of an enemy Catalyst, empty-handed. The metallic man cocked his head, almost curious, like a cat toying with a wounded mouse. Kane's heart thudded once, hard. His body screamed for him to wait, to recover. But people were still behind him. The figure smiled wider, then lunged. Kane gritted his teeth and charged to meet him, battered, drained and completely mortal.
The metallic Catalyst closed the distance with terrifying ease, his footsteps cracking the broken asphalt beneath him. Kane barely dodged the first swing. A heavy, sweeping punch that left a molten streak in the air. The man's fist crashed into the streetlamp behind Kane, shearing it clean in two. The metal sizzled, sagging like melted wax. Too strong to block. Too slow to be untouchable. Kane darted backward, eyes scanning. His lungs burned, and his muscles ached. Apex was silent, offline, the power well dry for now. He couldn't out-punch this guy, not without burning out completely.
Good. He wasn't planning to out-punch him.
The enemy lunged again, overcommitting, slow but powerful. Kane sidestepped, planting his heel into the curb for leverage, and drove an elbow into the man's exposed ribs. It was like hitting a furnace. Pain flared up Kane's arm, but the Catalyst staggered — he had weak points when his metal wasn't fully solidified. There it is. Kane didn't let him recover. He weaved around the next swing, grabbed a loose piece of rebar from the debris, and jammed it into a crack in the Catalyst's semi-molten shoulder. The man roared, the metal sizzling and buckling, momentarily locking his arm in place. "You're not invincible," Kane muttered under his breath. The world trembled, sirens screamed louder but all Kane heard was his own breathing, sharp and focused. Fight smart. Fight ugly. Stay alive.
The Catalyst, furious now, superheated his body, the temperature around him spiked so hard the asphalt bubbled. Kane backed off fast, sweat pouring down his brow, vision swimming. Can't get close while he's burning. Got to make him move again, force mistakes. Kane scanned the wreckage. A shattered fire hydrant gushed weakly nearby, spraying mist into the air. An idea sparked.
Kane sprinted toward it. The metal man roared and gave chase, lumbering like a juggernaut. Just as Kane reached the hydrant, he grabbed a broken length of pipe and smashed the hydrant's cap. Water exploded upward in a geyser, drenching the area in heavy, cooling spray. The molten Catalyst charged straight through but the instant the superheated metal hit the blast of cold water, steam burst violently, blinding him in a white-hot cloud. Kane didn't hesitate. He dashed forward, low and fast, slamming his shoulder into the enemy's knee. Off-balance and half-blinded, the metal man stumbled, just enough for Kane to pivot, grab his arm, and judo-throw the larger man over his hip. The ground shook as the Catalyst crashed into the cracked pavement.
Kane staggered back, breathing hard, adrenaline keeping him upright. Apex still wasn't ready. But Kane had bought himself, and the civilians behind him precious seconds. The Catalyst rose again, slower this time, metal armor hissing and steaming.
Kane wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, eyes narrowing.
No backup yet. No powers. Just him and the fire. Good. He preferred it that way. The metallic Catalyst staggered to his feet, steam still hissing from the fractures Kane had forced into his armor. The name was whispered through the radios of the few remaining officers still conscious in the area.
"Scald."
A low-level Catalyst turned mercenary, known for attacking vital infrastructure when paid enough. No loyalty. No ideals. Just a weapon for hire. And now, Kane was the only thing standing between Scald and the burning evacuation corridor behind him.
In the distant chaos, flashing red and blue lights flooded the scene, distorted by the smoke. Fire trucks screeched to a halt a few streets over. Hoses roared, jetting arcs of water against the inferno climbing up nearby buildings. Overhead, news helicopters circled, their floodlights slicing through the dark haze, broadcasting the battlefield to the entire city. Sirens wailed. Voices barked commands. But nobody was coming to Kane's aid. Not yet. He caught glimpses between the smoke:
A Catalyst with shimmering barriers directing civilians out of collapsing alleys. Another, cloaked in water vapor, helping smother flames where the hydrants couldn't reach.
Rescue officials moving wounded on stretchers, protected by other Catalysts throwing up shields against debris and stray attacks. The priority was clear, saving the people. Kane knew it. Accepted it.
It meant he had to survive this fight alone.
Scald bellowed, his molten arms flexing, patches of armor still steaming.
He slammed both fists into the ground.
A ripple of superheated cracks raced toward Kane like a living spiderweb. Kane leapt to the side, but the ground erupted, tossing him into a battered car frame.
Metal screamed. Kane grunted as he hit the wreckage, ribs flaring with pain. Apex was still not ready. He bit down against the pain, dragging himself upright. Scald advanced, relentless, the ground itself melting around his feet. No speed. No strength. No defense boosts. Only Kane's raw instincts and the stubborn, burning refusal to fall.
"You should be running," Scald growled, voice distorted by the heatwaves. "You're not even worth the kill." Kane wiped the blood from his mouth, baring his teeth in a savage grin. "Maybe." He shifted into a lower stance, weight balanced. "But guess what?" Scald's molten arm cocked back for a finishing blow.
"I'm not the one who'll regret staying." Kane moved, a feint left, a dive right, using the enemy's own momentum against him , dragging Scald off-balance again. He was buying time. Every second counted.
Because when Apex finally came back online, even if just for a few moments, this fight would end. And Kane Crag intended to be the one still standing when it did.
Scald's molten fists carved smoking trails through the wreckage as Kane dodged and weaved, using every scrap of cover he could find.
His breath burned in his lungs. His muscles screamed. He couldn't win like this. Not like this. But he could think. The battlefield was a twisted graveyard. Shattered storefronts, overturned buses leaking gasoline, broken power lines sparking across the flooded streets. Kane's gaze flicked upward. A cracked parking structure, top-heavy, unstable from the fire's relentless heat.
Just one push. He feigned weakness, luring Scald into overcommitting, pretending to stumble near one of the building's cracked support columns. Scald roared, molten arms swinging wide. Kane slid low, grabbing a snapped steel beam from the wreckage, and jammed it like a crowbar into the column's fracture. When Scald's fiery strike landed, the weakened column snapped, and the entire structure groaned like a dying beast.
Concrete thundered down in an avalanche.
Kane hurled himself clear, covering his head as tons of debris crashed over Scald.
The ground shuddered under the impact.
A choking cloud of dust and ash swallowed the street.
For a long second, everything was silent but the hiss of fires and distant sirens.
Then, from the ruins, molten light bled out.
Scald pulled himself free, burned and battered but still burning with relentless fury.
"You think that's enough?" he spat, molten blood hissing against the broken asphalt.
Kane staggered to his feet, feeling the weight of exhaustion in every nerve. His body was done. But something stirred deep inside him, something he had been waiting for. A pulse, a flare, the Apex core reigniting. The mark on his body blazed like a brand. Kane's eyes narrowed. He chose without hesitation.
Strength.
The world recoiled the moment Apex activated. The ground beneath Kane's feet shattered, spiderweb cracks ripping outward like a living thing. Nearby windows exploded from the sudden pressure change.
The collapsed parking structure groaned again, then crumbled completely, sending debris raining across the block. Powerlines snapped overhead, showering the street with sparks. The very air seemed to compress, a violent silence pressing down on everything for a heartbeat. Kane stepped forward. The asphalt caved under each step like it couldn't bear his weight.
Scald hesitated. Instinct screaming, but pride drove him forward in a molten charge.
Kane met him in the center of the ruined street. No flourish. No wasted motion.
Just a single, devastating punch.
The impact was apocalyptic.
Scald's molten body folded around Kane's fist, armor and all — and then detonated outward in a shockwave that flattened cars, bent steel, and tossed burning wreckage like leaves in a hurricane. Scald hit the pavement in a twisted heap, the fires around them snuffed out by the sheer force. Smoke and dust billowed. Sirens wailed frantically in the background. Up above, news helicopters jerked back, their cameras struggling to capture the maelstrom. Across the battlefield, the ally Catalysts and rescue teams paused, not because they weren't working, but because the earth itself was shifting, windows shattering, fires dying, buildings groaning. And in the center of it all, Kane stood. Battered, bleeding, but unbowed. Apex's afterglow flickering around him like the dying heartbeat of a star. He staggered once, coughing blood into the dust, but forced himself upright. The fight was over.
The dust hadn't even settled when the first screams rose. Paramedics and police officers stumbled back from the wreckage, shielding their mouths from the choking smoke. Firemen stared in stunned silence at the cratered street. Once a busy city block, now a smoldering ruin of collapsed buildings and crushed cars. A few news reporters, still broadcasting from safe distance, gasped audibly through their earpieces. "He... he took down Scald, but, look at the destruction!"
Across the zone, ally Catalysts moved between debris, pulling survivors from the rubble. One of them, a woman with a radiant healing ability, knelt over a motionless body, her hands trembling. "Dead... they're dead," she whispered. "They never had a chance."
Dozens had been caught in the blast radius. civilians, bystanders, people Kane had never seen, never meant to hurt. And there he stood, at the epicenter. Chest heaving.
Eyes hollow. Blood dripping from his knuckles onto the broken ground. Some looked at him with awe, the boy who had defeated a catalyst with a single blow.
Some looked at him with terror, a force of nature, uncontrollable and brutal. A veteran Catalyst, one of the backup heroes, muttered under his breath: "That kid... that's no ordinary Catalyst."
Another, a younger rookie, spat to the side, glaring at Kane: "What does it matter? He wiped out a whole street! He's a danger to everyone — not just villains." Emergency sirens screamed louder, closer. Officials in dark suits arrived, barking orders. Kane barely heard them. His vision blurred, the adrenaline draining from him like sand through an open hand. He saw the broken bodies. He felt the hollow ache gnawing inside his chest. It wasn't victory.
It wasn't triumph. It was just survival. Ugly, raw, and paid for with blood he could never wash off. Somewhere behind him, cameras clicked furiously. The people were watching.
And the boy named Kane Crag, who had fought so hard to protect everyone, realized that, he had already been judged.
News outlets would replay the footage for weeks. The boy standing alone in a shattered block, bloodied, broken, victorious. They gave him a name.
Ashfist