The Omega's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

The man who would call himself The Omega spent his last ordinary morning fixing another man's mistake. His coworker had phoned in sick, so he took the shift. He believed the world was broken and that only order could fix it. He also believed no one would ever let him try. So he settled the glasses on his nose, buttoned his clean white coat, and rode the elevator up through the tall stone building with the bold sign above its doors. The lab on the top floor was quiet. His coworker had left the bench a mess. Half-finished notes. A tray of samples not logged. He sighed and started cleaning up. Order first. Always order first. That was when he saw it. A small vial, unlabeled, in the sample tray. Inside sat a dull gray metal he did not recognize. He checked the logbook. No record. No entry. His coworker had found something and told no one. His hands started to shake. Not from fear. From hunger. He had spent years being ignored, following rules other men wrote. Now something new sat in his palm, and no one knew it existed but him. He should have reported it. Instead he carried the vial to the far bench. He wanted to know what it did before anyone could take it away. He set out a second compound, a clear liquid he used every day. One drop, he told himself. Just to test the reaction. He tilted the dropper. The clear liquid touched the gray metal. The vial flared white. Heat slammed into his chest. The blast threw him back against the cabinets and knocked the glasses off his face. Glass rained across the floor. Alarms screamed. He lay there, ears ringing, coat scorched black down one side. Then the pain arrived. It ran up his arms like fire through wire. His muscles seized. Light poured out of his skin, white and blinding, and he could not stop it. He gripped the bench leg to hold on. The metal bent in his hand like soft clay. He stared at his own fingers. He had crushed steel without trying. Slowly he stood. The room swam, then steadied. The ringing faded. He felt every pipe humming in the walls, every current in the wires. He felt strong. Stronger than any man should be. He found a shard of glass on the floor and looked at his reflection. His eyes glowed faint white. He did not reach for his broken glasses. He did not need them anymore. Below, footsteps pounded up the stairs. Coworkers, coming to see the fire. He looked at his hands again and smiled. For years he had waited for permission to fix the world. He would not wait for it again. He would take the power to do it himself. The men climbing the stairs were about to find out that the quiet scientist in the corner office was gone.