Midtown High’s gym has never looked so polished. Rows of glowing displays, science posters, and proud student projects fill the room, all circling one massive centerpiece: a humming, emerald-lit Gamma Energy Core suspended inside a reinforced glass cylinder. Teachers show it off like it’s the future of the city.

Wrenley lingers near the back of the crowd, hood up, hands shoved in her pockets. She looks like she’s wandering— but her eyes are hunting.

Every few seconds, the Gamma Core pulses. And every time it does, something in her chest pulses back.

“There you are…Just what they wanted me to find.”

She waits until the next demonstration starts, until everyone’s eyes are glued to the presenter. Then Wrenley slips between two booths, presses her palm to the protective glass, and smiles as her fingertips spark.

A surge of green and blue lightning erupts outward.

Glass shatters. Kids scream. The lights flicker and die.

Energy slams into her like a tidal wave—hot, sharp, euphoric. The Gamma radiation floods through her veins, mixing with her unstable powers in a way that feels both intoxicating and terrifying. She straightens, eyes glowing a violent teal.

“No, no.” a teacher gasps.

She doesn’t answer. She erupts.

A shockwave of electricity blasts across the convention floor, knocking over displays and sending metal equipment skidding.