Lineage

Prologue

"Papa come here!" Michael yelled.

His dad came running to the living room faster than a cheetah. His speed power-up was extraordinary but he only used it for dad purposes.

"Are you hurt? Did you scratch yourself again?" His dad asked as any typical stressed out dad would.

He got on his knees to check on him. He patted him like a security guard and went through every pocket.

"Daaaad, I'm not hurt." Michael turned red, embarrassed of his dad checking him.

"Then what's wrong?" He asked.

Michael pointed at the T.V.
"Lwook. It's te' Lomeli's fightin' te' Randals."

The television showed two people fighting in an arena. The floor was made out of cement: crowds were cheering from the seats, and the commentators were yelling crazy like.

"Oh my! Ricardo Lomeli landed the signature yellow ki uppercut."

"My money is still on Mia Randal. The foot 10x slam will rock Ricardo."

"Hopefully not. The Lomeli's are Mexico's strongest clan. They will win."

Cheering erupted from the T.V stereo as the two kept on fighting. Michael shook his body in excitement and eventually jumped up and down, copying the fighting from the T.V.

His dad shook his head and smiled at him pretending to be a Lomeli. Michael kept moving around and around, ultimately making his speed go faster.

"Slow down champ." His dad said, tensely.

Michael didn't stop. He kept on moving, inspired by the cheering crowds on the T.V. He even jumped at over his dad's head.

"Micheal! Stop now" His dad yelled out. His dad didn't look like a total threat; he was wearing a apron with a sign that said "Best Dad."

Michael didn't stop. He jumped around and ran around the house. He went upstairs, through the kitchen, even the basement. His dad chased him with his speed too. It looked like the two were teleporting across different parts of the house.

"You can't gwet me! I'm a super Lomeli!" Michael power increased each step he took.

His dad pushed aside doors, lamps, even a picture of him, a woman, and a baby in it. Michael kept laughing at his dad trying to chase him around but his dad only grew more frustrated.

They eventually make it back to the living room were it all started.

His father was out of breath from running.  Michael laughed and pointed at him.

"W-w-whoa there son. Y-you know I'm too old for this." His dad said, clearly out of breath.

"You only 23 papa." Michael said.

His father felt like a knife struck his heart.  He walked by the T.V and mumbled about how he felt old when he was so young. Michael smiled and ran circles around his dad, mocking him.

"Can you stop. I already feel bad enough for acting old." His dad said.

Smiling, Michael ran faster and faster which annoyed his dad more. His father, annoyed like crazy, eyes turned light blue and stared down at Michael. Michael running became slower and slower until he stopped running altogether.

"Wat' tat' for papa! I only mess' around." Michael said.

"Your annoying that's why." His father said.

Michael grunted, loudly.  He stomped his way to the front of the T.V and sat down to watch the fight.  He screamed loudly when he sat down.

His father ran quickly to his son side.