Chapter 15: First Contact

Rasheed stood on the rooftop long after the strange feeling had faded.

He couldn’t explain it.

For just a second…

It had felt as though another heartbeat had echoed inside his own.

Not identical.

Different.

Sharper.

Colder.

Blue.

Then it was gone.

He looked across the city skyline.

“What was that…?”

⸻

The following afternoon, the school emptied earlier than usual.

Teachers were attending a district meeting, and students flooded through the gates with cheers.

Omar walked out without saying a word to anyone.

His movements were… different.

More controlled.

More confident.

Rasheed noticed immediately.

“Omar.”

He turned.

For a brief moment, Rasheed saw tiny blue sparks dance across Omar’s fingertips.

Then they vanished.

“You okay?” Rasheed asked.

Omar forced a smile.

“Never better.”

Something about that smile didn’t feel real.

“You look tired.”

“I’ve just been training.”

“That much?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

There was no anger in Omar’s voice.

Only distance.

He adjusted his backpack and walked away.

Rasheed watched him leave.

“…What’s happened to you?”

⸻

Inside Helix Dynamics, Omar’s training had become relentless.

Every day, his speed increased.

Every day, the scientists pushed him harder.

Run faster.

React quicker.

Hit harder.

He never complained.

Because every session ended the same way.

He was faster than before.

Yet every night, something else happened.

His dreams.

A man made of crimson light stood inside a world of floating ruins.

He never spoke.

He simply watched.

Omar always woke before he could see the man’s face.

⸻

That evening, Rasheed returned to his father’s workshop.

He spread the blueprints across the table.

Heat-resistant fabric.

Shock-absorbing boots.

Impact joints.

His father hadn’t just planned for speed.

He’d planned for survival.

Rasheed opened an old metal cabinet.

Inside were rolls of black carbon fabric, unfinished gloves, reinforced polymers, and small containers labeled:

CHRONA CONDUCTIVE FIBERS

He smiled.

“You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

Hours passed.

Needles clicked.

Metal scraped.

Fabric stretched.

By midnight…

Something lay across the workbench.

It wasn’t a superhero suit.

Not yet.

It was practical.

A fitted black compression shirt reinforced at the shoulders.

Matching tactical trousers.

Lightweight gloves with reinforced palms.

Heavy boots designed to withstand tremendous impact.

No emblem.

No mask.

No cape.

Just equipment.

Rasheed picked up the boots.

“They’ll do.”

⸻

The chance to test them came sooner than expected.

At exactly 1:13 a.m., an explosion shook the eastern district.

Rasheed rushed to his bedroom window.

Smoke rose into the night.

Sirens echoed across the city.

Without thinking, he pulled on the new gear.

The boots fit perfectly.

He pulled his hood over his head.

“Let’s see if these work.”

He jumped from the rooftop.

Instead of panicking…

He ran.

His feet struck the wall of the apartment building.

Then the next.

Then the street.

Each step became smoother.

More controlled.

The boots absorbed the impact beautifully.

For the first time…

Running didn’t hurt.

A grin spread across his face.

“So this is what you were building, Dad.”

He accelerated.

Red lightning burst behind him.

A crimson streak raced through the sleeping city.

⸻

The explosion had come from an old chemical warehouse.

Flames consumed the upper floors.

Firefighters struggled to contain the blaze.

Workers remained trapped inside.

People shouted in panic.

Rasheed arrived unseen, stopping atop a nearby rooftop.

He took a deep breath.

“You can do this.”

He launched himself forward.

Through smoke.

Through falling debris.

Through fire.

One by one, he carried workers to safety before anyone could understand how they had escaped.

Inside the warehouse, he found one final survivor.

A maintenance worker pinned beneath a collapsed steel beam.

The man coughed violently.

“Help…”

Rasheed grabbed the beam.

It barely moved.

He planted his feet.

His muscles strained.

Red lightning exploded around his body.

With a shout, he lifted the twisted steel just high enough for the man to crawl free.

The moment they reached the exit—

The roof collapsed.

A wave of fire erupted behind them.

The crowd gasped.

A little boy sitting on the back of a fire truck pointed excitedly toward the fading crimson streak racing away from the scene.

“Mum!”

His mother turned.

“What is it?”

“The Red Pulse!”

She smiled through exhausted tears.

“Yes…”

“He came back.”

Several firefighters looked at one another.

“…Red Pulse?”

One of them repeated the name quietly.

It sounded right.

None of them saw the young man disappear into the darkness.

But every one of them would remember the crimson streak that had outrun the flames.

⸻

On the roof of a building two blocks away, another figure watched everything.

Blue electricity crackled softly around his boots.

Omar.

He had arrived only seconds too late.

He stared at the red streak vanishing into the distance.

“So…”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“It really is you.”

For reasons he couldn’t explain…

His chest tightened.

Not with anger.

Not yet.

With determination.

If Rasheed had become something extraordinary…

Then Omar would simply have to become even greater.

High above them both, hidden beyond the clouds, the crimson crack briefly reopened.

Within it, a lone figure watched the city in silence.

His glowing eyes narrowed.

“The game begins.”

The crack sealed itself.

As if it had never existed.

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