Hal sat alone in the cafeteria, slowly picking at his lunch. The food wasn't awful, but it wasn't exactly good either. Supposedly chili, though Hal was fairly certain real chili didn't taste like this. Something about the flavor was just… off.
He had just resigned himself to another quiet meal when the cafeteria doors opened. Rahne and Danielle—the two other girls in the facility—stepped in. They didn't acknowledge him at first, grabbing their trays and food in silence. But after a moment of hesitation, they walked over and stood across from him, awkwardly lingering.
"Mind if we sit?" Danielle asked.
"Go ahead," Hal replied with a small nod.
They took the seats opposite him, setting down their trays. Danielle gave him a small smile.
"We haven't really talked yet—besides that awful group session," she said. "Hal, right? Nice to meet you properly."
"Likewise," Hal said, offering a polite smile of his own.
"Saw you got pulled into the doctor's office earlier," Danielle continued. "What'd you do?"
"Nothing," Hal replied with a shrug. "She just asked a few questions. Gave me a crash course on the world these days."
"Oh," Danielle said. "Thought it was something serious."
"Sorry to disappoint." He paused, then added, "Danielle, right? How long have you been here, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I'm the newest… or, well, I was until you showed up. Been here for a month."
Hal turned to Rahne. "What about you, wolf-girl?"
"A year. I think," Rahne replied.
"So I'm, what, the sixth person here?"
"Seventh," Rahne corrected. "There was a boy before Danielle. He didnae ken what his powers were either, not at first."
Hal raised an eyebrow. "What happened to him?"
"Turned out he could make sense o' anything written—codes, languages, ancient texts, you name it. Once they figured it out, he didnae stick around for long."
"Huh. Interesting," Hal muttered.
"Interestin' how?" Rahne asked, curious.
But Hal deflected. "What about you, Danielle? What's your power?"
Danielle hesitated. "I'd… rather not talk about it."
Hal's eyes flicked to her wrist. Her dampener band was on—active and constant.
He gave a quiet hum. "Sorry for asking."
"It's fine," she said. "What about you? Have you figured yours out yet?"
"Still working on it," Hal said. "Hey, quick question—have you met Illyana?"
Danielle scoffed. "Unfortunately, yeah. She's a bit of an asshole."
"She looks like she's angry all the time," Hal said, more to himself.
"How would ye know?" Rahne asked.
"My room's across from hers, remember?" Hal said simply.
"Yeah, that checks out," Danielle said. "You're lucky she wasn't around when you arrived. She's in solitary. But from what I've heard, she's out tomorrow. So, heads up."
Hal nodded, poking at his food again. "Know anything else about her? Why she's here? What she can do?"
"Not much," Danielle replied. "Just that her powers couldn't be fully contained by a dampener. Other than that, she keeps to herself."
Hal raised a brow, then took another spoonful of his chili.
Danielle looked at him sideways. "You're not going to ask how her power can bypass the dampener?"
"Do you know the answer?"
"…No."
"Then I won't ask."
With that, Hal set down his spoon, stood up, and grabbed his tray. "Well, ladies, this has been enlightening. If you need me for any reason, I'll be at the training grounds."
—
The training grounds were indoors—repurposed from what looked like an old gymnasium. For a rehabilitation center, the place was surprisingly well-equipped. Rows of modern gym equipment lined the walls, a basketball half-court gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and several doors hinted at private training rooms tucked deeper inside. Hal didn't bother checking them out. What drew his attention more were the cameras—mounted in every corner, watching, always watching.
He was currently working the dumbbells, arms pumping with a rhythm that felt oddly familiar. Stronger than he'd ever been, stronger than he ever remembered being. After a few reps, he set the weights down and exhaled, flexing his fingers absentmindedly as he tried to wrap his head around it all.
Just a few days ago, he was half-dead in a hospital bed—skeletal, pale, unable to move his legs. Now he had powers he couldn't explain, a body that showed hints of new muscle, and enough stamina to go an hour without breaking a sweat. He didn't know who brought him here, or why, but he was starting to feel grateful.
He picked up the dumbbells again, letting the motion settle his thoughts.
Then the gym door creaked open.
Roberto stepped in, already dressed for a workout, towel slung over his shoulder. Hal glanced at him, then looked away, focused on his form.
"Didn't peg you for a gym guy, new kid," Roberto said as he walked past.
"I'm not," Hal replied. "Pretty sure this is my first time. Ever."
"Ah, right—the amnesia thing," Roberto said with a hum. He stopped, tilted his head slightly. "Still, you've got solid form. Looks like your muscle memory survived the wipe."
Hal raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"You serious?" Roberto gestured. "Those are hundred-pound dumbbells, both of them. You're holding 'em like they're groceries. Your arms are skinny as hell, but you don't look like you're struggling."
Hal glanced down at the weights. "I've got some muscle," he muttered defensively.
Roberto snorted. "Sure. Either your powers give you a strength boost, or someone seriously screwed up the labels on those things."
Hal didn't answer right away. He'd noticed it too, the moment he walked in. Those bells didn't feel like a hundred pounds. Not even close. The most obvious explanation was also the most unbelievable: he might actually have super strength.
His gaze flicked toward the camera mounted in the corner.
Gregor was probably watching. Probably taking notes.
"Why are there even hundred-pound dumbbells lying around?" Hal muttered between reps. "It's not like a bunch of kids like us are expected to use them."
Roberto, now settled on a bench press, chuckled. "This isn't your average gym, buddy. We're mutants—abnormal. Of course they're gonna stock the place to match our... abnormalities."
Hal lowered his dumbbells. "You got super strength or something?"
Roberto paused, lying back under the bar. "I'm pretty sure the doc told everyone not to go around asking that kind of stuff."
"What, you the doctor's pet now?"
"I'm someone who values privacy," Roberto replied coolly, then started benching the loaded bar. "Anyway, when you're done, put the weights back where they belong. I'm the only one who really uses this place. I'll know if you mess it up."
Hal rolled his eyes and kept working, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
Super strength. Could that really be one of his powers? It didn't make sense. He could feel emotions—feel them like temperatures on people's skin. That was his thing that he discovered. What did raw strength have to do with that? As far as he knew, mutant abilities weren't just a grab bag of random tricks. They usually followed some theme, had connections. If someone had multiple powers, they tended to align somehow—through energy, biology… something.
Empathy and brute strength? What kind of link was that?
Suddenly, a wave of heat washed over him.
Hal turned. He could feel anger from the guy, but Roberto was also steaming. Literally. Thin wisps of smoke rose from his skin, and the air around him shimmered like pavement on a summer day.
"Roberto!" Hal shouted.
Roberto blinked, confused, just in time to notice the smoke curling off his chest. Panic flickered across his face. He lost grip of the bar—and it crashed down onto his ribcage with a heavy thud.
Without thinking, Hal rushed over and grabbed the bar with one hand. To his own surprise, he hoisted it effortlessly and slid it back into the support hooks.
Roberto gasped for air, his eyes glowing with a brief, blinding yellow—like miniature suns. Then, just as fast, the glow faded. The heat disappeared. Whatever had triggered it was gone.
"You good?" Hal asked, keeping his voice steady.
"Y-yeah. Yeah… thanks, man." Roberto was still catching his breath.
"You know," Hal said, eyeing the bench press, "a normal person probably would've been crushed to death."
"Right," Roberto muttered, wiping sweat from his face. "And like I said... we're not normal."
Without another word, he stood and hurried out of the gym, his footsteps uneven and fast.
Hal turned back to the bench press. The cushion where Roberto had been lying was scorched—charred black and still smoking slightly.
He sighed.
"Mutants," he muttered under his breath. "What a weird bunch."