You ever notice how the city holds its breath when I step outside? Lights get a little brighter, traffic slows down, even the villains start checking their posture like they suddenly care about presentation. That’s the Gamma Jack effect, sweetheart it’s science, trust me.

People ask me, “Gamma, how do you stay so calm when the world’s falling apart?” And I tell them, “I don’t stay calm. The world stays calm for me.”

See, when you’re born with my kind of juice raw energy humming under your skin like a live wire — you don’t walk into a room. You detonate into it. You glow a little. You spark a little. You burn a little too bright for anyone to look away.

And yeah, of course I’m cocky. What am I supposed to do — apologize for being exceptional? Pretend I don’t hear the gasps when the boots hit the pavement? Or pretend I don’t enjoy it when the cameras try to catch my good side— (spoiler: they all are.)

But don’t get it twisted. There’s a job to do. There’s always some oversized tin can calling itself a “supervillain” trying to make a name off mine. Poor things don’t realize I’m not just light — I’m the whole damn spectrum.

And when I show up? They know it’s over. Not because I’m the strongest. Not because I’m the fastest. But because I’m the one who makes it look effortless.

Charm’s a weapon. Wit’s a shield. Confidence? Confidence is the cape that never drags you down.

…well. Usually.

But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight? Tonight I shine.

And the world? It looks better in my glow.