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CHAPTER TWENTY key in a lock
⋆*✧･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:
PREDICTABLY, THE ACT OF transferring Harlan's abilities back to Viktor would not be an easy one. After all, the accident in the first place had been a panicked attempt at resuscitation, not something that had occurred out of a deliberate will. Viktor's powers—and now, by extension, Harlan's—had proven from the very first moment to be unpredictable, lashing out erratically and without real certainty. The only time he ever exercised even some degree of command was when his family was threatened. But that wasn't exactly going to work here, in a controlled environment. And it wasn't like they were going to put anyone in danger on purpose in order to draw it out—that would be a recipe for disaster.
Which meant that neither Viktor nor Harlan had any idea of what to do. This was something that became clear only a minute after Harlan had gotten to his feet, as those sixty seconds were spent in awkward silence. Viktor scuffed his feet on the ground. Harlan rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, humming under his breath. Nadine examined her nails.
The light thud of the radio, switching from channel to channel, emanated from Allison's car. It was the only thing that could be heard other than the occasional self-conscious cough and shuffle of gravel. Well, it was, until Viktor finally decided to take the situation by its horns.
"How do we start?"
Harlan shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe start with what you did in the barn back in 1963."
"But that didn't work," he pointed out.
"Well, it sort of did," said Nadine. "I mean, you definitely took some of his power back. I could see it. And it obviously was enough to make him drop that vortex thing he'd made."
Harlan nodded at her. "Exactly. And I'm not a kid anymore. I can help you."
"Okay, how?" Viktor asked.
Harlan held up his hands. "Let me show you."
He closed his eyes and raised his head, letting his eyes drift shut. Within moments, a low, faint resonance and the jolt of static filled the air, lifting the hairs on Nadine's arms. His chest glowed—surprisingly not pale blue, but the same gold that had overtaken Jayme and Alphonso when he'd killed them. It beamed out from his rib cage like his heart itself had lit up, casting shadows on his face. And when he opened his eyes once more, they shone the same vivid hue.
Nadine couldn't help but take a step back, slightly unnerved. Harlan's abilities still didn't make sense to her—how could they be so different and yet the same? What were those beads of light that had streamed from his body and back into Viktor in 1963?
