Chapter 2

After 12 years...

Mark trudged along, his head bowed as if carrying an invisible weight. Dark sunglasses shielded his sensitive eyes from the harsh fluorescent lights, but they did little to alleviate the throbbing pain that pulsed behind them.

It was like some sadistic virus had taken up residence in his body and was having a grand old time torturing him from the inside out. His muscles felt like they had been put through a meat grinder while his head was a congested maze, and even his teeth seemed to pulse with a dull ache.

He stifled a groan, reaching for a jumbo-sized bottle of ibuprofen. Work was a non-negotiable evil, and he needed something, anything, to dull the pain enough to get through the day. As he tossed the bottle into his basket, his phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he saw Ron’s name flash across the screen.

“Hey, Ron. What’s up?”

“Dude, you sound awful,” His friend’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Worse than usual, I mean. Flu still kicking your ass?”

Mark leaned against a display of overpriced granola. “Something like that. Feel like I got hit by a truck, then the truck backed up and ran over me again for good measure.”

“Damn, that bad, huh? Maybe you should ditch work and come hang out. We can watch those cheesy kung-fu movies you love so much.”

“Tempting, but I gotta power through. Bills don’t pay themselves, unfortunately.”

“Speaking of, you’re at the store anyway—”

Mark laughed. He should’ve known his best friend wouldn’t pass up a prime opportunity for grocery delivery service. “What do you need?”

“You’re a lifesaver, man. Okay, so I need those spicy chili cheese puffs, the big bag, and some of those weird pickle-flavored chips you like. Oh, and a six-pack of that ginger ale, the fancy kind.”

“Pickle chips and fancy ginger ale? Your taste is getting weird even for me”

“Hey, a man’s gotta have his indulgences,” Ron replied with a laugh. “I’ll swing by your place later and grab the stuff. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t forget the cash this time.” Mark could practically picture Ben’s sheepish grin—he knew the cash would be “forgotten.”

He pocketed his phone, carefully, knowing he’d never hear the end of it if he lost it (again). The store’s flickering fluorescent lights seemed to mock his misery, amplifying his discomfort.

As tempting as holing up on Ron’s couch sounded, a promise was a promise. And besides, being out in public always helped shove the shadows to the back of his mind, at least for a little while.

With a look of disdain, he grabbed the box of painkillers and headed toward the snack aisle.

As he perused the shelves, heavy footsteps suddenly filled the store. He turned to see three burly men clad in black and wearing ski masks approaching the counter.

The cashier, a woman with tired eyes and a name tag reading “Sally,” looked up from her register, her boredom quickly shifting to alarm. “Uh, sir? Can I help you?”

One in middle—broad-shouldered, voice like gravel on asphalt—pulled out a gun.

“You can give us everything in the register, sweetheart. Nice and slow, no sudden moves, and maybe nobody gets hurt today.”

Sally didn’t move. Her name-tag, a cheery yellow sunflower, mocked the terror that flickered in her eyes as her gaze darted between the men—trapped. The silence stretched, taut as a wire about to snap.

“S-sir ... I...”

“He said move it, lady,” one of the other men growled, shoving a duffel bag across the counter.

“Please...,” Sally choked out, hands trembling as she fumbled with the cash register. Bills spilled across the counter, some drifting to the floor like snowflakes in the sudden stillness of the supermarket. “J-just take it, okay? Just ... please don’t—”

“I don’t have all day!” he shouted again.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” she pleaded. “H-Here, t-t-take this. Please, don’t—” she sobbed, holding out a wad of cash in front of her.

“That’s it? Where’s the rest?”

“Th-thh-that is all there is...”

“Do I look like a dumb ass, bitch?” the robber sneered, pressing the gun harder against Sally’s forehead.

Sally’s sobs intensified, her pleas for mercy turning into incoherent babbling.

“Shut her up, will you, Kev?” The one guarding the door sounded bored.

The leader—Kev?—turned, his gaze sweeping the silent aisles beyond. For the first time, his mask shifted just slightly, and Mark caught a flicker of something anxious beneath the bravado—a tell that mirrored the frantic beat of his own pulse. They weren’t professionals. Which didn’t necessarily make them less dangerous, he reminded himself. Quite the opposite, actually. Amateurs and adrenaline were a volatile combination.

Mark, who had been frozen, now started to take in his surroundings, noting the empty aisles and abandoned shopping carts. The other customers had either fled or were cowering out of sight, leaving him as the sole witness.

His gut instinct was to help, to do something, anything. But the rational part of his brain screamed at him to stay hidden, to not get involved.

Sally’s pleas continued to fall on deaf ears, the robber seemingly relishing in her terror as she collapsed on the floor. Mark knew he couldn’t just stand there and watch, but his mind was blank.

He needed a plan, a distraction, something...

He took a cautious step back, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

His heel clipped a stray shopping basket—the metal screeching against the linoleum floor. It wasn’t loud, but in the sudden quiet of the supermarket, it sounded like a siren.

The robbers turned in unison.

“Well now,” Kev drawled, gun still trained on the cashier, “looks like we’ve got ourselves an audience. You wanna be part of the show, kid?”

Mark’s mind raced, adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Hey, let’s just all calm down,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Nobody needs to get hurt.”

A harsh laugh echoed in the silent supermarket. “Looks like we got ourselves a hero.”

“Man, chill with the kid.” It was the one near the door. He shifted, a tremor of uncertainty in his stance that mirrored the sudden flicker in Kev’s eyes— they weren’t expecting this. Good. “Let’s just grab the cash and go, alright? No need for—”

“You wanna tell me what to do now, Jimmy?” Kev spun around, the gun swinging away from Mark to point at his accomplice, and for the space of a heartbeat, the pressure in the air eased just enough. Enough.

Sally chose that moment to scramble to her feet, a choked cry escaping her lips.

Kev didn’t hesitate. In a heartbeat, he reversed the gun’s aim, and brought it down on Sally’s temple with a sickening thud. She crumpled, silent, and Mark saw red.

“Hey, there’s no need for that!” Mark protested.

“Oh, there’s a need, alright,” Kev sneered, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “So, tell me, kid,” he hissed, “you ever had a gun in your face before?”

Mark swallowed hard, his heart pounding against his ribs. “Look, I don’t want any trouble,” he said, his voice steady. “Just take the money and leave. No one needs to get hurt.”

“But it’s so much more fun when they do,” Kev cackled, his eyes gleaming with a twisted delight.

Mark’s gaze darted between the three masked figures and the crumpled form of Sally on the floor, her face a canvas of pain and fear. A surge of anger, mixed with a deep-seated sense of responsibility, coursed through him.

He couldn’t just stand and watch.

Taking a deep breath, he reached within himself, tapping into his reservoir that had always hummed beneath his skin.

Lida’s warnings echoed in his mind, but they were drowned out by the urgency of the situation.

Closing his eyes, he channeled his ether, feeling it flow like a warm current through his veins. A shudder ran through him as he channeled, not enough to cause a visible shift in energy that might set off their alarms (and his, the consequences... ) but just enough to tip the scales towards his hands and legs, subtly enhancing their capabilities.

It wouldn’t last long— but it would have to be enough.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” Sensing a shift in Mark’s demeanor, Kev growled, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Before the words had even left his lips, it was already over. One heartbeat Mark was standing there, and the next he was on Kev, his arm a blur, twisting the gun free, sending it spinning across the tile floor to clatter harmlessly against the dairy case.

Kev stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock and confusion.

“You little--!”

Mark didn’t give him time to finish the thought. He lashed out with lightening fast jab, his fist connecting with Kev’s jaw in a symphony of cracking bone and cartilage. The larger man roared—more surprise than pain this time— as he crashed into the magazine rack.

Enraged, Jimmy charged at him, throwing a wild haymaker.

But Mark, his reflexes heightened by the energy coursing through him, effortlessly sidestepped the blow. With a swift counter punch, he slammed his fist into the robber’s ribs, feeling another sickening crunch beneath his knuckles as his enhanced strength connected with bone and sinew.

Jimmy went down with a gasp, crumpled against a display of canned peaches. But the third one was already moving— a dark blur reaching for the fallen gun.

However, Mark, with his speed, intercepted him effortlessly. He grabbed the man by the collar, spun him around, and threw him into the nearby aisles, causing cans and boxes to crash down around him.

He turned just in time to see Kev struggling to his feet.

“You’re dead, kid.” He spat blood onto the white floor. “You’re fucking dead.”

Mark simply shrugged, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

Kev, enraged, charged at him like a bull, fists flailing wildly.

However, Mark was faster and skilled. He bobbed and weaved, dodging the intruder’s wild swings and counter-attacking with precision.

Each punch from Mark landed with a satisfying crunch, and he relished in the feeling of his knuckles connecting with his hard face.

His bravado shattered, Kev tried desperately to fight back, throwing wild haymakers that Mark easily dodged.

He moved with a grace that belied his enhanced strength, his strikes precise and punishing. A left hook to the jaw, followed by a right cross to the temple, sent him staggering backward.

The robber tasted blood, his vision blurring. He tried to catch his breath, but Mark gave him no respite. A flurry of blows rained down upon him.

“How does it feel to be on the receiving end?” Mark taunted between punches.

He had never been a violent person, but seeing the fear in Sally’s eyes, the way these men had treated her, had unleashed a rage he couldn’t control. Each blow he landed was a cathartic release, a way to channel his anger and disgust into something tangible.

He felt a sense of satisfaction in seeing the intruder cower and wince in pain. Finally, Kev fell to the ground, blood trickling from his nose and mouth staining the pristine white tiles of the supermarket floor.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Mark’s focus shifted to the trembling cashier. He rushed to her side, gently helping her to her feet. “Are you alright?”

“I ... I think so,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

“Good,” he said reassuringly. “Call the police. I’ll take care of these guys.”

Sally nodded numbly and reached for the phone, her hands shaking as she dialed 911.

Mark, meanwhile, turned his attention to the subdued robbers. One by one, he approached the subdued figures. Two of them, unconscious, thankfully. The third— Jimmy, if he remembered the name right— met his gaze with a dull sort of defiance as Mark used coils of heavy-duty rope he found near the cleaning supplies to secure their wrists and ankles.

The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness as they waited for the cops. One of the nameless robbers, regaining consciousness, began to struggle against his bonds, his muffled curses filling the air.

“Save your energy,” Mark said flatly, his gaze unwavering.

The robber glared at him with pure hatred. “You’ll regret this, you little prick,” he hissed. “Just wait till me and my boys get out. They’ll hunt you down.”

Mark sighed, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Now just stay put until the cops haul your ass off.”

The robber continued his tirade of threats and insults, but Mark simply tuned him out. His attention was drawn to Sally, who sat huddled in a corner, her body still trembling from the ordeal.

“Thank you,” she whispered shakily, her voice barely audible over the robber’s rant. “Thank you so much.”

Mark offered her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” he said gently. “It’s all over now.”

He kept a watchful eye on the robbers, making sure they didn’t try anything before the police arrived.

It felt like an eternity before Mark heard the sirens in the distance. He could feel the tension in the air, but he refused to let his guard down until the police were inside the store. Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching and the jingle of keys as the officers unlocked the door.

Two uniformed officers entered cautiously, hands hovering near their holsters. Mark raised his own hands in surrender, backing away from the groaning figures of robbers.

The officers quickly assessed the situation and took the intruders into custody. Mark gave a statement to the police, explaining what had happened.

Their gazes lingered on him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, but they ultimately accepted his account.

As the robbers were led away, Mark made his way back to Sally.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe now.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “I don’t know what I would have done without you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.