"Are you the only one able to use Elemental Drain?" Quake asked softly, never once daring to approach closer. He had never been so afraid of an ally before, especially one he considered to be his family.
Thunderstorm, like usual, didn't turn to him. He sat on the edge of the roof, hugging one of his knees as he let the moonlight drape over him like a liquid blanket.
"Yes," he said finally. "I've been using it before I met you and Cyclone."
"How long?"
Thunderstorm's head turned, his red eyes seeming brighter than Quake's ever seen them. "When I first signed the contract." He looked down to the tiles of the roof beside him, his posture lowering as he exhaled the air in his lungs. "Retakka was the first Elemental user to use Elemental Drain. I'm the oldest Elemental in this generation. It's given to us for obvious reasons: to stop any of you if you go awry, but that also means killing you."
"Then why take me and Cyclone's powers?" Quake's voice broke. "Because..."
"My reasoning is for me to know," Thunderstorm snapped, turning his back on the gold-eyed elemental, "and for you to never find out."
Quake sighed, knowing that there was no way he was going to ever get any more information from the electrokinetic, so he turned back to Thunderstorm's room window, deciding to get some sleep. However, when his fingers slid on the chilling glass pane, he no longer saw Thunderstorm's reflection on the roof, gone like he was never there.
He swiveled around, expecting an empty roof, but he was still there, like he had never moved for hours. Even so, Quake could still see his own self in the glass, but never Thunderstorm's.
Frowning, Quake entered the house, but the one frame in the window never left his mind.
What was he hiding?
* * *
Thunderstorm never wanted to be in this world. Sure, he was ecstatic when he received the contract, he was beyond cloud nine when he knew he had the power to save people; but all of that didn't matter when there were people too far gone to help.
Once upon a time, he believed that everybody deserved a second chance, that everyone can change if they put their minds to it. Before he met Quake, Quake was an asshole beating up weaker kids for lunch money. Before he met Cyclone, Cyclone was the frail kid that followed Quake around and did his bidding—no matter how vile—because he was afraid to be beaten up like the others. Thunderstorm saved them and they wanted to change, and change they did.
Now, everyone's changed, but he was still the same.
He believed that every one of them was equal, and the fact that he had one sinister ability the others didn't was pushed to aside. There was no need for it, does it? Every one of them was so unique and Good. There was no way he would ever use it.
But when Retakka killed all of them with that power, it was only then that he realized how dangerous, how terrifying this power can become. It wasn't just a precaution given to him so his team wouldn't step out of line. It was a murder weapon designed specifically to kill them.
And now... he was what they have feared for so long.
He trusted Quake to shut his mouth. He would never speak about that incident to anyone else, because it was too much of a delicate subject. Only a little longer, he told himself. Some planets still need help.
When Retakka took his powers, it was only then that he realized how tempting power can be. When he absorbed everyone else for their elemental powers, he was the only one that felt how powerful he was, despite being one of the victims. He could feel the energy surging in his veins, the feeling that he could do everything and destroy everything with a mere thought.
It felt good, and he was guilty for it.
Don't repeat his mistakes, he told himself. Don't become him.
Yet he had taken his family's powers without hesitation, and the power felt amazing.
I need to speed up.
Before I die.
One last mission before he ended Elemental Drain once and for all.
---
Note: This one shot as been moved to an individual book with more chapters and an actual storyline
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One-Shots [Boboiboy]
Fanfictionᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs ᴀɴɢsᴛ, sᴀᴅɴᴇss ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇᴀʀs. ᴇɴᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪsᴋ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ᴀ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟ ᴀssʜᴏʟᴇ. ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴋɪᴅᴅɪɴɢ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's sᴏᴍᴇ ғʟᴜғғ ᴛᴏᴏ.