Max had been working in his dimly lit workshop for hours, the flickering light of his desk lamp casting shadows over his cluttered workbench. His hands were covered in oil and metal shavings as he tinkered with the incomplete prototype of the suit. It was far from perfect—there were wires sticking out in odd places, the frame was slightly uneven, and the energy core was still being tested. But Max was determined. His father's research was his only lead, and he couldn't afford to waste any more time.
Suddenly, a loud CRASH broke the silence.
Max froze. His heart skipped a beat. He quickly turned his head toward the back of the workshop, his senses instantly on high alert. The sound of glass shattering echoed through the room.
"What the hell..." Max muttered under his breath, pushing himself up from the stool. His pulse quickened as his eyes darted to the rear door, which had been reinforced with several layers of security. He wasn't expecting anyone. No one knew about this place, this workshop, except for him and the few trusted people from his past.
Another sound—this time, the unmistakable scrape of a metal object against concrete—followed by the faint click of a lock being picked. They were in.
Max's instincts kicked in. He reached for the nearest object—his prototype suit. It wasn't finished, but it was his only line of defense.
He scrambled to slip into the suit, his fingers fumbling as the tight materials clung to his body. "Come on, come on..." Max whispered, his breath coming quicker as he slid into the suit's control panel. The energy core hummed to life, albeit weakly, as the suit's basic functions powered up. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.
His ears strained to hear any more sounds. Footsteps. Then, a muffled voice.
"We know you're in there, Cole. Open up."
Max's stomach churned. His worst fear had come true. Someone knew. They knew about the meteorite, and now they were here for it. The government? A rogue faction? Whoever they were, they were coming to take it.
"I'll never give it to you." Max's voice was low, filled with quiet defiance. He turned to face the back door, where he could hear the intruders getting closer.
His heart raced in his chest, but his mind was sharp. He grabbed a small metal rod from the workbench, his thoughts moving in quick succession. They can't have the meteorite. He had to protect it.
The back door exploded open with a loud bang, and two masked figures stepped into the workshop. Both were armed—guns aimed forward, eyes scanning the room.
"Where is it, Cole?" one of them barked, his voice cold and professional. "We know you have it. Hand it over."
Max's breath caught in his throat as he looked at them. There was no time for questions or negotiations. These people weren't here to talk—they were here to take.
Without thinking, Max leapt into action. His hands, still shaking from the adrenaline, hit the activation switch on the suit. The suit's shoulder plates clicked into place, and he felt a surge of power course through him. "You're not taking it," he muttered to himself, his voice steady despite the storm of fear and adrenaline swirling inside him.
The intruders advanced, their guns raised. But Max wasn't about to wait for them to get closer.
With one swift motion, Max lunged forward, using the suit's enhanced strength to slam into one of the men, sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud. The force of the impact left the man dazed, crumpled to the ground.
Max didn't have time to check if he was out cold. The other agent fired at him, but Max was already ducking, the suit's agility allowing him to evade the bullet with ease. He twisted his body, moving faster than he'd ever moved before, feeling the raw power of the suit pushing him forward.
"Stay down, Cole!" the second intruder yelled, his voice shaking with frustration. He raised his gun again, but Max was already in motion.
Using the suit's enhanced strength, Max reached out, grabbing the barrel of the gun and twisting it out of the agent's hand. The agent staggered back, stunned.
"You're not taking anything from me!" Max shouted, his voice ringing with newfound confidence.
With a swift kick, Max sent the agent flying into a pile of tools, knocking him out cold. The room fell silent, except for the heavy sound of Max's breathing and the faint hum of the suit.
Max stood there for a moment, chest heaving, trying to calm his racing heart. His eyes darted around the workshop, still unsure of how much danger he was in. He had just taken down two armed men, but he knew this wasn't over. This was just the beginning.
The suit's display flickered weakly, still unstable but enough to give him a brief feeling of victory.
Max looked down at the agents, lying unconscious on the floor. The weight of the situation hit him. "They're going to keep coming, aren't they?" he whispered, his voice filled with grim realization.
His fingers tightened around the suit's gauntlet. "And I'll be ready," he muttered, the fire of determination igniting in his chest.
This moment marks a critical shift for Max. The break-in serves as a wake-up call—he's no longer just dealing with personal fears or doubts. The meteorite's power has attracted dangerous attention, and Max is no longer just an inventor—he's now the protector of something far bigger than himself.