It was never supposed to happen in one night.

Most hosts would die from just one.

Jacoby absorbed three.

⸻

☄️ The First Fall — Hydrokinesis

The sky cracked open above the abandoned river district.

A blue meteor struck the dry riverbed, exploding into a crater of steam and fractured stone.

Jacoby approached slowly, rain sliding down his hair.

In the center floated a crystalline orb wrapped in suspended droplets of water.

The droplets weren’t falling.

They were waiting.

When Jacoby stepped closer, the water shifted toward him.

When he touched it—

The world went silent.

Water surged upward from beneath the earth and spiraled around him like a living current.

His veins pulsed faint blue.

He gasped as the orb dissolved into liquid light and sank into his palm.

The riverbed trembled.

The water obeyed him.

Hydrokinesis.

He should’ve stopped there.

He didn’t.

⸻

🌑 The Second Descent — Adaptation Mimicry

Hours later.

Drawn by instinct he didn’t understand, Jacoby wandered into an abandoned research facility at the edge of the district.

Inside—

A second orb floated in darkness.

Black and silver.

Cracked like fractured glass.

Unlike the first, this one didn’t move toward him.

It watched.

As if analyzing him.

Jacoby stepped forward.

The orb split into shifting fragments and surrounded his head.

Visions flooded his mind.

Combat stances.

Energy signatures.

Timing patterns.

He felt knowledge downloading into his nervous system.

When he blinked—

The orb was gone.

His pupils flickered with faint geometric symbols before fading.

Adaptation Mimicry.

He could now observe, analyze, and temporarily replicate abilities.

Two Absorbs.

His breathing grew heavier.

His heartbeat unstable.

But the sky wasn’t done.

⸻

🔥 The Third Impact — Soul Flame

The final meteor didn’t crash.

It descended.

Slowly.

Like it chose him.

It landed in the middle of the street in front of him, cracking the asphalt in a perfect circle.

This orb burned blue.

But it gave off no heat.

The flame bent inward, feeding on itself.

Jacoby felt it before he touched it.

Pain.

Not physical.

Spiritual.

The flame reacted violently the moment his fingers grazed it.

Blue fire exploded upward, engulfing him.

His scream echoed down the empty street.

The fire didn’t burn his clothes.

It burned through him.

Into him.

His veins lit up.

His hair lifted in the surge of energy.

The orb shattered into embers that seeped into his chest.

Soul Flame.

Blue flames that burned spirit, not flesh.

⸻

⚡ System Overload

Three Absorbs.

Simultaneously.

His body wasn’t built for it.

Water spiraled uncontrollably.

Blue flames flickered violently across his arms.

His vision fractured into data streams as Mimicry tried to process too much.

He collapsed to his knees.

Heartbeat erratic.

Breathing uneven.

The rain evaporated before touching him.

His body trembled under the pressure of forces that weren’t meant to coexist.

⸻

⚡ Somewhere Else

In a dim monitoring facility, alarms screamed.

Energy Surge: Triple Absorb Detected

Host Stability: Critical

Officer Reko stared at the screen.

“…Idiot.”

He grabbed his coat.

“If he survives this… he’s not normal.”

⸻

🌑 Final Scene

Jacoby lay unconscious in the rain.

Water hovering above him.

Blue flames flickering softly.

Three celestial forces circulating within a single human vessel.

The Tsukigiri Core pulsed once in distant space.

A whisper echoed across dimensions:

“He has accepted all three.”

And the night went still.

Rain had stopped. The city smelled of wet asphalt, old metal, and dust. The night before was gone, but Jacoby could still feel it lingering in his bones. He opened his eyes to sterile white light, every sound amplified—the slow drip of water from the ceiling, the faint hum of machines, the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor. His body felt heavy in ways he had never experienced. Muscles ached as if stretched beyond human limits, but it wasn’t exactly pain—it was exhaustion fused with something… strange. Something alive.

He tried to sit up and immediately felt the tremor in his hands. A small droplet of water floated unnaturally above his palm, suspended in midair. His pupils dilated, heart racing, and for a moment, he panicked. The droplet hovered as if testing him, teasing him. Jacoby blinked rapidly. He wanted to let it fall, but fascination froze him in place. It finally dropped. He exhaled shakily. “…That… wasn’t a dream,” he whispered, voice barely audible in the sterile room.

The door clicked, breaking the fragile silence. Boots echoed against the linoleum. Officer Reko entered, calm, measured, almost predatory in his poise. He didn’t carry a notepad. No visible weapons. Just himself—tall, composed, unreadable. His gaze swept over Jacoby without judgment, but with keen observation, noting every tremor, every faint pulse of energy radiating from the boy. Jacoby tensed instinctively. “Who… are you?” he asked, trying to hide his panic.

“Someone keeping you alive,” Reko said quietly, almost as if it were obvious. “For now.”

Jacoby frowned. “Alive…? I should be dead. I—”

Reko cut him off with a glance. No words were needed. Jacoby could feel the weight of those eyes, calm but analyzing, and realized this man didn’t just see him—he studied him like a puzzle he hadn’t yet solved. Reko stepped closer, stopping at the foot of the bed. He tapped a finger against the metal railing. The heart monitor glitched for a brief second, skipping a beat. Jacoby flinched, noticing the water floating slightly above his hands in reaction.

“Interesting,” Reko murmured, his expression unreadable. “You… do this naturally?”

Jacoby shook his head, trying to make sense of it. “I… don’t know. I just… reacted.” His voice cracked slightly under the weight of exhaustion and uncertainty.

“Reacts, huh?” Reko muttered. He studied him for a long moment, silent except for the faint beeping of the monitor. “You’re unstable. Not fully understood. And I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

Jacoby’s eyes flicked down at his arms. A faint shimmer of blue traced along his veins, like embers trapped under skin. He held his breath. “Did you… see that?” he whispered, voice trembling.

Reko did not answer. He had seen something, yes—but he didn’t know what it was. Nothing in his data, no readings from the monitoring devices, could identify it. He only knew it was something… alive, something powerful. Something dangerous.

“It… wasn’t pain,” Jacoby continued, barely audible. “It felt… strange. Like warmth, but not heat.” He swallowed hard. “Like it was… alive.”

Reko’s eyes narrowed. “Strange… yes. Dangerous? Possibly. But I don’t know why. Neither do you, I assume.”

Jacoby shook his head. He wanted answers, but they wouldn’t come—not yet. He felt the pull of the unknown within himself, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Neither of them had names for the force flowing through him. Neither of them could define it. Yet its presence demanded attention.

Reko took a step back toward the door, his posture rigid. “When you felt it… this… fire inside you—what did you feel?” he asked. His voice was calm, almost clinical.

Jacoby hesitated. He expected pain. Instinctively, he expected to feel death’s edge, the burning of uncontrolled energy. But no. He had felt something… else. “…Relief,” he whispered.

The silence hung thick between them. Reko’s eyes narrowed in a way that suggested intrigue, curiosity, and caution all at once. “Interesting,” he muttered under his breath. “This will require… observation.”

The officer opened the door but paused, glancing back. “Survive tonight,” he said, almost casually. “We’ll see what you truly are… eventually.”

Outside the hospital window, a shadow lingered. Not human. Eyes glowing faint amber, reflecting the city lights. It whispered across the street, barely audible: “So… it begins.”

Inside the room, Jacoby lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Blue sparks flickered faintly across his hands—still unnamed, still uncontrollable, still mysterious. And for the first time, he realized that something deep inside him had changed. He didn’t know what it was yet. But it was alive. Waiting. Watching.

The night passed quietly. Too quietly.

The morning light leaked through the blinds of Hospital Room 317, casting faint stripes across Jacoby’s bed. His body still throbbed from the strain of absorbing three celestial fragments in a single night, though he was stable now. He stared at the ceiling, mind buzzing with unspoken questions. Water droplets floated idly above the bed, reacting faintly to his gaze. A mysterious part of him whispered that he was no longer completely human—but he had no name for the feeling yet.

The soft click of boots on tile broke his thoughts. Officer Reko entered again, hands clasped behind his back. No smiles. No unnecessary words. Just presence. Jacoby sat up cautiously.

“Sit down,” Reko said curtly, gesturing to the chair beside the bed. Jacoby complied, wary. He had learned quickly that Reko wasn’t a man to joke with.

“You survived,” Reko began, voice low, controlled. “Most wouldn’t. And yet, here you are. Not fully understood. Not fully contained.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “I assume you’ve noticed something strange… about yourself. Something you can’t explain.”

Jacoby nodded, looking at his hands. “I… I don’t know. Water… fire… I don’t understand it.”

Reko didn’t comment further. He folded his arms and leaned slightly against the wall. Then, after a pause, he said something that caught Jacoby off guard.

“Your father… Robert Morrison, has plans for you.”

Jacoby’s eyes snapped to him. “My… dad?”

Reko nodded. “He’s not just a businessman or politician. He runs S.H.I.E.L.D—a group dedicated to protecting the world from threats it isn’t ready to face. He’s been… waiting for someone like you. Someone who can handle extraordinary power. Someone who can survive forces most humans cannot.”

Jacoby frowned. “He… wants me… to join… heroes?”

“Not just join,” Reko said, voice steady. “To train. To become an operative. To be part of something bigger than yourself. If you accept, you’ll learn control. You’ll learn responsibility. You’ll learn what it means to protect others—before you hurt yourself.”

The words sat in the air. Jacoby wanted to argue. Wanted to refuse. But the pull of purpose—and the lingering traces of power in his veins—kept him quiet.

“Enough talk,” Reko said finally. “You’ll be transported to the HQ. They’ll handle your physical and tactical evaluation. And from there… your training begins.”

⸻

🏙️ Journey to HQ

A black SUV waited outside the hospital. Jacoby climbed in quietly. The city blurred past as they drove through the rain-soaked streets. He thought about the three Absorbs inside him, the strange flicker of fire in his veins, and the overwhelming sensation of uncontained power.

The vehicle slowed near a quiet city park. There, waiting under the muted streetlights, was a boy about his age. Slender, soft features, blonde hair shining faintly in the wet night. Jacoby froze for a second before the boy smiled warmly and waved.

“Jacoby?” the boy called. His voice was light but confident.

Jacoby hesitated. “Uh… yeah?”

The boy jogged forward. “I’m Matthew. I’ve been looking for you.”

Jacoby blinked. “Looking… for me?”

Matthew tilted his head, grinning. “Yeah. You’re… special. I could feel it. And I’ve been sent to make sure you don’t screw it up.”

Jacoby didn’t know whether to be confused or wary. He had never had anyone greet him like that before. Friendly, calm, but strangely direct. Matthew exuded a confidence he couldn’t quite place.

Reko’s voice came from the SUV. “Do not engage recklessly. Proceed to the HQ.”

Matthew looked at Jacoby, ignoring the order. “Don’t worry. I can keep up.”

Jacoby frowned but something in him—something human—relaxed slightly. Maybe it was relief. Maybe it was curiosity. Either way, for the first time in a long while, Jacoby felt like he wasn’t completely alone.