James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - B2

Sixty

The ground shook under the clash of powers. Alexander's hands crackled with violet energy as Max lunged at my dad, fists striking metal with sparks flying everywhere. Mia screamed as she collided with Mark, Bryce swung wildly as a man possessed, and Noah scrambled desperately to shield the civilians. Samual held Henry tightly, his gaze locked on Alexander, a tangled mess of rage and grief in his eyes.

"Alex—Alexander!" Samual shouted, his voice breaking. "All the lies, all the betrayals! Everything you've done to my family, to me... you've destroyed it all! How can you even stand there and call yourself family?"

Alexander tilted his head, violet light flickering over his arms, smirking like it was nothing—confident, cocky, like a villain straight out of a 2000s action flick. "Oh, Sammie... always so dramatic. But don't get it wrong. I was trying to help you, you know."

Samual's eyes narrowed. "Help me? Help me? What are you even saying?"

"I was helping, Sammie!" Alexander shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Forcing Danielle to give birth to your kids? That was me making sure the family survived. Making sure you didn't mess everything up. You're welcome."

Samual's face twisted with pure fury. "You think that's helping? I was sixteen, Alex. SIXTEEN! You stole everything from me—my freedom, my kids, my family! You're sick, Alexander!"
Alexander let out a low, mocking chuckle that seemed to shake the street. "So it worked out for you two, huh? You and Danielle... another baby on the way."

Samual's fist trembled as he clutched Henry tighter. "It's Noah's kid, you asshole."

For a moment, Alexander froze, his eyes flickering with surprise. Then that grin of his just widened. "Oh... even better."

Samual's face burned red, rage simmering. Alexander's hand shimmered with energy, brighter than a star against the ash-streaked ground.

Samual stayed on his knees, shoulders quaking, refusing to rise. "Then you're going to ruin yourselves with it."

Before Alexander could strike, a voice cut through the smoke.

"Not on my watch."

Steady. Commanding. Familiar in a way I hadn't heard in years. My heart jumped. I spun around—

It was my father, Matthew.

He dropped from above, the firelight glinting off his supersuit—dark steel streaked with cobalt. He hit the asphalt hard enough to leave a crater, rising immediately as if the weight of the entire city rested on him—and he could carry it without flinching. His mask slid back just enough to reveal his eyes: cold, unshakable, locked on Alexander.

Another figure followed him down. Sleek, black armor, visor glowing crimson—Dexter.

The fleeing crowd froze. Whispers rippled through the streets: more of them. More heroes.

Matthew lifted his arm, gauntlet blazing as energy hummed to life. "This ends now."

Alexander tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Another twit."

Dexter's voice cut sharp and precise, younger but just as steady. "Try me." His visor pulsed, weapons deploying—blades folding out, panels sliding into place, like the city had molded a machine made for war.

I froze in the middle of the street, lungs burning, heart pounding. In minutes, downtown had turned into a warzone that felt like it could swallow us all. Samual was on his knees, begging, while Maximus and Alexander glared, ready to tear the city apart. Noah and Mark were battered and bruised, Bryce bleeding but steady, and Mia's eyes were wide, torn between fury and hesitation. And now Matthew and Dexter were stepping in, suited up, bracing for whatever was coming next.

The city itself seemed to shudder, like even the streets couldn't bear the chaos about to unfold.

Max spat onto the cracked pavement. "Cute reunion."

Matthew didn't flinch. He tightened his gauntlet, the light flaring hotter. "Step back."

"Or what?" Alexander's voice roared, his glow matching Matthew's. "You gonna cage us? Like you did with Henry?"

Samual's head snapped up, eyes wide and desperate. "Enough!" His voice broke with grief. "Stop dragging Henry into this—stop tearing us apart!"

But his plea got lost in the explosion of motion.

Max charged Matthew, fists clanging against metal, sparks flying. The shockwave sent cars skidding and flipping down the street. Mia screamed and lunged at Mark again, while Bryce ran after him, crowbar raised, reckless as always. Noah threw up a shield just in time to block falling debris, shouting for anyone nearby to get out of the way.
And then Alexander came for me.

I braced myself, feeling power surge through my veins as he lunged forward—but before he could reach me, Dexter cut him off. The suit snapped open across his shoulders, unleashing a burst of kinetic energy that sent Alexander skidding into a toppled bus.

"I've been waiting for this," Dexter muttered, his visor narrowing like a glare.

Alexander pushed himself up slowly, a sharp smile slicing across his face. "Then I hope you're ready to bloody die."

The battlefield erupted into chaos—brothers against brothers, cousins against cousins, friends caught in the middle. And there, in the ash, Samual stayed on his knees, hands shaking, whispering words no one could hear anymore.

"Please... stop."

I clenched my fists, energy blazing so hot it felt like my bones would split. But I wasn't afraid anymore. Not of Alexander. Not of Max. Not even the truth Samual still hadn't told about Henry.

I wasn't that boy who used to sit on rooftops, waiting for orders.

I was Alpha.

And tonight, Los Angeles would remember that.

Alexander's blast tore through the street where I'd just been standing. The shockwave rattled windows, ripped asphalt, and left a crater smoldering like a fresh wound across the city.
I would've ended up in that crater if Derek hadn't slammed into me at the last second, moving like a missile. We tumbled across the shattered pavement and slammed into an overturned cab, coming to a rough, grinding stop.

I blinked through the haze, my lungs on fire. Derek was crouched in front of me, arm out as if he could still block Alexander's wrath. His jaw was tight, but his eyes... those eyes burned with that big-brother intensity I'd known my whole life.

"You good?" he barked, sharp and fast.

"Yeah—yeah, I think so." My voice cracked, adrenaline still twisting through me. "Derek, you—"

He cut me off with a humorless laugh. "Don't get soft on me now." A smirk broke through the dirt on his face. "Consider it payback. You pulled me out of traffic once—I never forgot that. Guess I owed you."

The memory hit me like a jolt: ten-year-old me yanking him back from a truck that would've flattened him. He'd laughed it off back then. Not this time.

I pushed myself up, fists clenching, electricity running under my skin. Derek dragged me the rest of the way, gripping my arm like he was keeping me tethered.

His voice dropped, rough but steady, meant only for me. "Listen, James... No—" He paused, locking eyes with me. "—Alpha. You're not the kid chasing my shadow anymore. You're the one running this fight. Don't forget that."

Hearing him say it—Alpha—something inside me shifted. Not a command, not a lecture, just respect. My brother finally sees me for who I've become.
Chaos was everywhere. Matthew slammed into Max with a force that shook the skyline. Dexter's suit lit up the street as he went head-to-head with Alexander. Bryce was screaming, bleeding, swinging his fists wildly, while Mark and Mia collided once more. Noah rushed to guide civilians out from under falling debris. Samual's voice cut through the madness, breaking, pleading with his sons to stop, calling desperately for Henry.

I turned to Derek, my chest tightening. He gave me the slightest nod. "Go. Now, Alpha."