The silence after Chris’s transformation hung heavy.

John scrambled back in fear, but before another word could be spoken—
A loud metallic whirr sliced through the quiet.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Out of the woods, shapes emerged—dozens of humanoid robots, each armored in sleek black steel, red lights blinking on their faces. A blood-red X was marked boldly on every chestplate.

They raised their guns as they surrounded the campsite. Children screamed. Teachers yelled. Chaos erupted.

One robot stepped forward and spoke in a cold, mechanical voice.

“We only want the big one.”

Chris’s glowing blue eyes narrowed. He stepped forward without hesitation.

“No,” he growled.

In a blur, he dashed into the crowd of machines, punching through metal like it was paper. One after another, the robots fell—shattered, broken, sparking.

But more kept coming. Dozens became hundreds.

The children were screaming now—trapped between the trees and the war zone. Explosions rang out. Trees were set ablaze.

Chris glanced back. He couldn’t save them all.

And then—

A shadow dropped from a tree branch and smashed a robot’s head clean off.

Chris turned.

A young woman moved like lightning through the machines, sweeping legs, breaking limbs, disarming weapons. She had no powers, but she fought with impossible precision—every move sharp, every strike deadly.

She was… beautiful. Long black hair flowing behind her, emerald eyes burning with focus and cold resolve.

Together, she and Chris finished off the last of the robots.

The clearing fell quiet. Smoke lingered.

Chris turned to her, breathing heavily. “Who… are you?”

The woman didn’t hesitate. “Elara. I’m here to get you out of here.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“They want your power,” she said, her voice flat. “And taking it might mean taking your life.”

Chris stared. “Why should I trust you?”

She looked at him, calm and unbothered. “You do, or you die.”

Chris nodded slowly. “Fine.”

He looked around—kids crying, teachers panicking. This wasn’t over.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

Elara pointed into the woods. “My helicopter. About three klicks that way.”

Without another word, Chris grabbed her—gently—and leapt into the air, bounding over the trees.

They landed near a clearing where a black tactical helicopter waited, blades already spinning. He set her down.

They climbed in.

As the aircraft lifted off, Elara finally said, “The one who sent those robots… is called X. And he’s not going to stop.”

Chris clenched his fists.

Then looked out the window as the forest shrank below them.