Mutant Teenagers

Athens, Greece - The Beginning of a New World

Athens was a city that seemed as timeless as the Acropolis and as vibrant as the bustling street markets of Monastiraki. The golden hues of sunlight reflected off the marble streets, where tourists mingled with locals, and schoolkids dashed home, their backpacks swaying behind them. Among the thousands of teenagers who called Athens home were two fourteen-year-olds, Kwstas and Nikolas.

They had met on the first day of middle school when the teacher had randomly assigned them as desk partners. Nikolas, tall for his age, with wavy chestnut hair and a confident swagger, immediately made an impression on everyone. Kwstas, quieter but quick-witted, admired Nikolas’s ability to command a room.

Soon, the two became inseparable, spending weekends exploring the narrow streets of Plaka and playing football in the dusty fields near their school. Their friends, Melina and Spuros, often joined them. Melina was sharp-tongued but fiercely loyal, with a knack for problem-solving, while Spuros, a wiry boy with a wild imagination, kept the group entertained with his endless jokes.

Yet, for all their camaraderie, Kwstas harbored a secret: he had feelings for Nikolas. At first, he tried to suppress them, fearing that Nikolas, who often made offhanded homophobic remarks to seem "manly," would never accept him. Little did he know, Nikolas’s bravado was a mask hiding his own confusion and insecurities.

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The Attack

It was an unusually warm November evening when their lives changed forever. The four friends were walking home after school, laughing about the antics of their strict math teacher. They had just reached a quiet alley when a sudden gust of wind howled through the narrow street.

“Did you feel that?” Melina asked, her dark eyes narrowing.

“Probably just the weather,” Nikolas replied, shrugging.

But it wasn’t. Emerging from the shadows was a man with piercing eyes and a twisted smile. He was unnaturally tall, his limbs elongated like a puppet. His skin shimmered as if it were made of liquid metal.

“You’re the ones,” the man said, his voice low and menacing. “You don’t know it yet, but you’re special. And I’m here to stop you before you can become a threat.”

“What the hell is this guy talking about?” Spuros muttered, stepping back.

Before anyone could react, the man raised his hand, and a wave of energy shot out, slamming into the ground near them. The explosion sent debris flying, and the four friends scattered.

Kwstas felt something stir deep within him. His fear was replaced by a strange sense of clarity. Time seemed to slow down as the man lunged toward Nikolas. Without thinking, Kwstas raised his hand, and a shimmering barrier of light appeared between them. The man’s attack bounced off it, sending sparks flying.

Nikolas stared at Kwstas in disbelief. “What—how did you—”

“I don’t know!” Kwstas shouted. His heart pounded, but there was no time to process what had just happened.

The man turned his attention to Kwstas, his eyes narrowing. “So, you’re the first to awaken. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

But before the man could attack again, Nikolas let out a roar of anger. His fists clenched, and the ground beneath him began to crack. With a guttural shout, he punched the air, and a shockwave erupted, knocking the man off his feet.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Melina whispered, staring at Nikolas. “You too?”

“I—uh—guess so,” Nikolas said, looking at his trembling hands.