Nighman

Chapter 3

The night was deep and still, stars twinkling against the vast backdrop of darkness. Cerulean stood alone in a quiet field on the outskirts of the city, feeling the damp earth beneath his feet, his senses tuned to the night’s subtle movements. It was the perfect place to practice—away from prying eyes, away from distractions. He took a deep breath, grounding himself in this strange new power.

“Tactile telekinesis,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He focused on the sensation within him, a pulse of energy that rippled outward, coating his skin like an invisible second layer. At first, it was faint—a subtle vibration that barely moved the air around him. But as he concentrated, the sensation grew, expanding outward, strengthening, until he could feel it solidifying, like a tangible force surrounding his body.

With a gentle push of will, he felt his feet leave the ground. It was a strange feeling—like he was buoyant, lighter than air, yet grounded by his own mind’s control. The earth dropped away as he rose slowly, his pulse racing with excitement. Flying was a dream he’d never thought he’d experience, even in his wildest imaginings.

He focused harder, willing himself higher, the invisible field wrapping tighter around him, lifting him faster. Buildings became smaller, the lights of the city shrinking into dots of color beneath him. He felt a thrill, a rush of freedom. His body obeyed his thoughts as if it had always been capable of this, as if he were born to defy gravity.

The field expanded, becoming a part of him, working with his subconscious to stabilize and support him. He tilted forward, testing his speed, and shot forward with a surge of power, slicing through the air at breathtaking velocity. The world was a blur beneath him, and he laughed, exhilarated.

His movements grew bolder, more daring. He looped and soared, testing the limits of this new ability. He even managed to lift a boulder from the ground far below, marveling at how light it felt, like an extension of his own hand. His control was improving, his instincts sharpening with each new motion.

But suddenly, his concentration slipped. Just a small lapse, a fragment of doubt, and he felt the field falter. The energy around him dissipated, and his body plummeted. His heart leaped into his throat as the ground surged up to meet him, the distant city lights vanishing as he dropped through clouds, his velocity building.

The rush of the fall was relentless, and he struggled to regain control, but his thoughts were scattered, his mind racing too fast to harness his power. The ground loomed closer, a dark expanse of earth. His mind caught up just before impact, and in a final desperate surge, he reestablished the field, wrapping it tightly around himself just in time.

The impact shook him to his core, but he survived, his body protected by the last-minute barrier. He lay still for a moment, catching his breath, feeling the chill of the night air seep into his skin. A soft, rhythmic sound reached his ears—the distant clash of battle, voices raised in shouts.

Cerulean rolled to his feet, taking in his surroundings. He was somewhere different now—a remote part of South Africa, he realized, with sparse trees and open plains stretching out under a dark sky. The sounds of struggle were louder now, and he honed in on them, jogging across the uneven ground until the fight came into view.

A young woman, fast and agile, darted around a hulking figure in what looked like a suit of armor. She was dressed in a sleek, silver and black costume, her movements a blur as she dodged each of the villain’s attacks with breathtaking speed. Her fists lashed out, landing punches that seemed to barely affect her opponent, whose armor gleamed menacingly under the moonlight.

“Come on, Outrun,” she muttered to herself as she skidded back, just dodging a powerful swing from the villain’s fist. Her breath came in sharp bursts, her focus unyielding, but it was clear she was starting to wear down.

Cerulean watched for a moment, assessing the situation. He didn’t want to interfere, not without understanding the stakes, but Outrun’s movements were growing slower, her strikes less powerful. She needed help.

He launched himself forward, covering the distance in seconds, landing with a crash that drew both combatants’ attention. Outrun’s eyes widened as she took in his tall, imposing form, his intense amber gaze.

“You look like you could use a hand,” he said, offering her a grin.

“Suit yourself,” she replied, a hint of flirtation in her voice despite the tense situation. She barely spared him another glance, already moving to sidestep her opponent’s next attack.

The armored villain grunted, sizing up this new arrival. “Who the hell are you?”

“Just passing through,” Cerulean replied, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward. The villain snarled and charged at him, swinging a massive, gauntleted fist with enough force to shatter concrete. Cerulean raised his arm, summoning his telekinetic field around it. The punch connected, but the energy around his arm absorbed the impact, dispersing it harmlessly.

Cerulean seized the opportunity, gripping the villain’s wrist with his enhanced strength. He twisted sharply, sending the man stumbling back. Outrun took advantage of the distraction, zipping behind the villain and delivering a sharp kick to the back of his knee, forcing him off balance.

“You’re stronger than you look,” Outrun remarked, flashing him a quick, approving grin.

“And you’re faster than I thought possible,” he replied, admiring her agility.

Together, they pressed the attack, Cerulean focusing on tanking the villain’s blows while Outrun dashed in and out, delivering quick strikes to weak spots in the armor. After a few tense minutes, they managed to wear him down, and with a final combined blow—Cerulean’s fist driving into the chestplate while Outrun delivered a swift kick to the back of the head—the villain collapsed, his armor sparking and fizzling.

Outrun stepped back, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath, her gaze locked on Cerulean with open curiosity. “Alright, mystery guy,” she said, a smirk dancing on her lips. “What’s your deal?”

Cerulean shrugged, trying to seem casual. “Just a guy who happened to be in the neighborhood.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “In the neighborhood? You fell from the sky like a meteor.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I had a little…incident with flying. Still working out the kinks.”

“Flying, huh?” She crossed her arms, her smile widening. “That’s not all you can do, is it?”

He met her gaze, choosing his words carefully. “Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Well, I’m impressed,” she replied, tilting her head as she looked him up and down. “It’s not every day a guy just falls from the sky to help out. Name’s Outrun, by the way.” She extended a hand, her tone playful.

“Cerulean,” he replied, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm, confident. “Nice to meet you.”

“Cerulean,” she repeated, as though testing the sound of his name. “Well, Cerulean, I owe you one. I thought I’d have to fight that jerk all night.”

“Glad I could help,” he replied, smiling at her. Her confidence was infectious, and he found himself enjoying the brief exchange.

She reached into a small compartment on her belt, pulling out a slip of paper. She scribbled something on it before handing it to him. “Here’s my number,” she said, her eyes twinkling with a playful glint. “In case you ever want to, I don’t know, ‘fall from the sky’ again.”

Cerulean took the paper, feeling a warmth rise in his chest. “I might take you up on that.”

Outrun flashed him one last smile before she backed away, giving him a mock salute. Then, in a blur of motion, she was gone, vanishing into the night as though she were part of it.

Cerulean looked down at the slip of paper, a sense of satisfaction settling over him. This encounter had been unexpected, a reminder of the new life he’d been given, the choices he’d made. With a deep breath, he focused, reigniting his telekinetic field. The invisible energy wrapped around him, lifting him off the ground, steady this time.

As he soared back toward home, the stars stretched out around him, the night air filling his lungs. For the first time since he’d been reborn, he felt truly alive.