Boboiboy the superhero, the super brothers

Cyclone's Endeavor

Cyclone has lately felt empty in his heart. He felt that there is nobody that he loved except for Thunderstorm. Before, getting his mind settled on other things, Cyclone swiped in the internet and found his perfect tip for confessing.

Cyclone's P.O.V.

It all started with curiosity. The feel was tremendous. It was anticipating. The atmosphere was warming up. It set the mood of the wild west, where you can shoot and kill without having a debt to pay. Happiness was feeling my lungs as I slided down the slope.

I had enough. I felt something was amissed. Something was not feeling quite right in my heart. It was heavy and gave me a ponder. It was the viciousness that crept up.

As my innocent voice called up for the encore, I felt a bout of boldness that swam up my spine. It was full of egoism and the fluid washed me with shrinkles of esteem.

I just could not stand it. Months and months after the first meet. The anticipation was growing. Nobody knew about it and after some mind-blowing boggling research, I decided to take a dive into lava. Taking a deep breath, my fingers dashed over my keyboard, writing something I never knew I was capable of.

I tapped my toes with anxiety for the first reply. There it came. I just read it and read it over and over again, amazed by the consequence I gambled. I smirked and giggled, being too naive to comprehend what was going to unfold. These just escalated too quickly for me to bare. My ego was between titanium walls built straight through the bed rocks. Nothing could penetrate it, nothing could stop me. I looked back at the forlorn road behind me. I could not stop now. I just went on and on, laughing and smiling with ease.

It was easy to take it then, not feeling what it was like to be part of the suffering demons rampaging and sliced in hell. Until then, I was a rock from a boulder. I looked forward, straight forward. I saw only a wise and golden light, much radiant and bright. It was much of the tarnished and polished shimmering flame that never burns the wax of its candle. I would be immortal if not for it.

It was dawn. The rose with the sun from the east. I gazed and burnt everything into ashes, signalling my presence in this contempt. With an ache of my back, I hurt myself too badly for this day to happen. The day of my dreams. The day of my months. The day of my life. Would fate allow it? I just walked forward into my future, not determining what was casted on me...

I just waited and broke my rule which I had abided by for my previous months. I needed a relplica of my vision too badly I spilled my words from my mouth. It was like a little child slipping on a mere puddle unconditionally.

Little for it twisted my neck for me to realise my predicament.

The feel was tremendous. It was anticipating. The atmosphere was warming up. It set the mood of the west, where you can shoot and kill without having a debt to pay.

However, my debt was there. It was situated at the heart of an avalanche. Tease and laughters landed before my ears. However, I did not really bother for the first time. It was only when my dormant volcano sparkled some smoke out then I turned to them, forcing them to start a frank talk.

I just could not tolerate the pressure. It was creeping onto me like a monarch of a forest. My ear stinged of the corrosive words that burnt in my mind. I could just comprehend my ostracize. I diowned myself and my soul clung onto its string, not releasing for its pure life. It was a mere joke I was cooking after all. Outrageously, I disdained the rest and focused on my inner soul. If not for the injustice, I felt it was becoming too sensitive to engulf.

My eagerness had just contained a terrible myth I was holding. Right from history, my mutualism was soaked in the rain, damped and wet with utter humiliation. Nothing had the better of me. My mouth was bitter, my cuts were swelling, my eyes were taken a shot of plummeting knifes. It was an active volcano back in its creation. Fully charged, fully loaded, fully booked. It was a sight of awe of how the transformation unfold, however, too bad would not vouch of a chance.

The rage and fiery rampaged through me like a march of cold-hearted beasts, awaiting for stab right through the malfunctioning and defunctioning of its own kind of oscillation. My mind was in a swirl, decomposing into a contort of hate. It was enough to let out a serpent of an angel. It hissed vemoniously and in grievance, threatening to dampern my swell of angst and regret.

I really should have stopped when the lights faded out, faded out...

Normal P.O.V

Cyclone: *Sighed* I really should not...

Figure x: *Hid at some random dark corner and pounced at Cyclone*

Cyclone: *Screamed like a girl* Ahhhhhhh... *Fainted*