---
The salty breeze drifted across Kingston Harbour as fishing boats slowly returned to the docks.
The sun was beginning to set, painting the ocean a warm shade of orange.
A young boy, no older than eight, ran across the wooden pier.
Dwayne: "Dad! Dad!"
A tall, muscular man looked up from unloading crates of fresh fish.
His weathered face softened into a smile.
Mr. Campbell: "Easy there, little man."
Dwayne jumped into his father's arms.
Mr. Campbell laughed.
Mr. Campbell: "You're getting heavier every week."
Dwayne grinned proudly.
Dwayne: "Because I'm gonna be stronger than you one day!"
Mr. Campbell chuckled.
Mr. Campbell: "Stronger than me?"
Dwayne nodded confidently.
Dwayne: "Yep!"
Mr. Campbell placed him back on the dock.
Mr. Campbell: "Then you've got a long way to go."
The other dock workers laughed.
Dock Worker: "Careful, Campbell."
Dock Worker 2: "That boy might actually replace you someday."
Mr. Campbell smiled.
Mr. Campbell: "I'd be proud if he did."
He gently ruffled Dwayne's hair.
Mr. Campbell: "As long as he grows into an honest man."
Dwayne didn't fully understand those words.
He simply smiled.
---
A few streets away...
The joyful sound of singing filled a small church.
Inside, a woman stood before the choir with grace and confidence.
Mrs. Campbell clapped her hands.
Mrs. Campbell: "Again, everyone."
The choir began singing once more.
Their voices blended beautifully beneath the stained-glass windows.
Young Dwayne sat on the front pew, swinging his legs back and forth.
He wasn't interested in singing.
He was more interested in counting the colorful birds outside the window.
Mrs. Campbell noticed and smiled.
Mrs. Campbell: "Dwayne."
He looked up.
Dwayne: "...Sorry, Mom."
The choir laughed softly.
Mrs. Campbell walked over and kissed his forehead.
Mrs. Campbell: "One day you'll sing with us."
Dwayne scratched the back of his head.
Dwayne: "...I don't think I can sing."
Mrs. Campbell giggled.
Mrs. Campbell: "Everyone can sing."
Dwayne: "...Even Dad?"
Mr. Campbell had just walked into the church.
He immediately raised both hands.
Mr. Campbell: "Don't drag me into this."
The choir burst into laughter.
---
That evening...
The Campbell family gathered around a small wooden table for dinner.
It wasn't a luxurious meal.
Just fried fish...
Rice...
And vegetables.
But to Dwayne...
It was perfect.
Mrs. Campbell: "How was work?"
Mr. Campbell sighed happily.
Mr. Campbell: "Long day."
Mr. Campbell: "The sea was generous today."
Mrs. Campbell smiled.
Mrs. Campbell: "That's good."
Mr. Campbell looked toward his son.
Mr. Campbell: "How was school?"
Dwayne proudly pulled a folded paper from his backpack.
Dwayne: "The teacher said I got the highest score in maths!"
Mr. Campbell's eyes widened.
Mr. Campbell: "That's my boy!"
Mrs. Campbell clapped excitedly.
Mrs. Campbell: "I knew you could do it."
Dwayne couldn't stop smiling.
At that moment...
Life was simple.
Life was happy.
And for the Campbell family...
It felt like nothing could ever tear them apart.
---
But years have a way of changing people.
The fish dock began laying off workers as business declined.
Money became scarce.
The neighborhood grew more dangerous.
Crime spread through the streets.
The same roads where Dwayne once played football with friends...
Were now controlled by drug dealers and gang members.
As Dwayne entered his teenage years...
The streets began whispering promises.
"QUICK MONEY." "RESPECT." "POWER."
And little by little...
He started listening.
His parents noticed the change immediately.
His grades dropped.
He stopped going to church with his mother.
He spent less time helping his father at the docks.
Instead...
He stayed out late.
Made new friends.
And came home with bruises he refused to explain.
Mrs. Campbell often stayed awake until midnight, praying by the window.
Mr. Campbell searched the streets more than once, hoping to find his son before trouble did.
Neither of them realized...
They were already losing him.
---
Kingston, Jamaica.
The city never slept.
Even in the dead of night, the streets echoed with loud music, revving motorcycles, barking dogs, and occasionally...
GUNFIRE.
For most people, it was just another night.
For Dwayne Campbell, it was the night that would change everything.
---
BANG!
A gunshot rang through the streets.
Police sirens blared from every direction.
The members of the Iron Yard Crew, one of Kingston's most notorious gangs, sprinted through a maze of alleyways carrying duffel bags stuffed with cash and illegal firearms.
Gang Member: "Split up!"
Gang Member 2: "They're boxing us in!"
Gang Member 3: "Forget the money! Just run!"
Dwayne clenched his jaw as he ran alongside them.
Dwayne: "This way!"
The group turned the corner—
Only to come face-to-face with a line of armed police officers.
Officer: "DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"
Officer 2: "THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!"
One of the gang members fired first.
BANG!
Within seconds...
Chaos erupted.
RATATATATATA!!
Bullets tore through the alley.
Gang Member: "AAAAAAH!!"
One man collapsed instantly.
Another tried climbing a chain-link fence.
BANG!
He fell backwards, motionless.
Gang Member 3: "Blaze! Help me!"
Dwayne looked back.
His closest friend reached out toward him.
Before Dwayne couldn't move—
BANG!
The bullet struck him in the chest.
Gang Member 3: "...Run..."
His hand dropped.
Dwayne froze.
For a brief moment...
Everything became silent.
His survival instincts took over.
Dwayne turned and ran.
---
Nearly thirty minutes later...
Dwayne finally reached home.
His breathing was ragged.
His clothes were stained with dirt, sweat, and someone else's blood.
He slowly opened the front door.
The television was on.
A news anchor appeared on the screen.
Jamaican National News (JNN)
News Reporter: "Breaking News. Members of the Iron Yard Crew were involved in an armed robbery earlier tonight. Police have confirmed multiple gang members were killed during the confrontation."
Pictures of the dead flashed across the television.
Mr. Campbell stood silently in front of the TV.
Mrs. Campbell sat on the couch, tears already streaming down her face.
Mr. Campbell slowly turned toward his son.
Mr. Campbell: "...Were you there?"
Dwayne lowered his head.
Dwayne: "...Yeah."
The room fell silent.
Mrs. Campbell covered her mouth.
Mrs. Campbell: "Oh, Dwayne..."
Mr. Campbell clenched his fists.
Mr. Campbell: "How many times?"
Dwayne remained silent.
Mr. Campbell: "HOW MANY TIMES HAVE WE TOLD YOU TO LEAVE THAT LIFE?!"
Dwayne: "Dad..."
Mr. Campbell slammed his fist onto the dining table.
BAM!
Mr. Campbell: "Every time you walk out that door..."
Mr. Campbell: "...I wonder if you're coming home alive."
Mrs. Campbell walked toward Dwayne.
She gently held his hands.
Mrs. Campbell: "Please..."
Mrs. Campbell: "You don't have to keep doing this."
Mrs. Campbell: "We'll help you."
Mrs. Campbell: "Just stop."
Dwayne slowly pulled his hands away.
Dwayne: "...I can't."
Mrs. Campbell's heart sank.
Mr. Campbell closed his eyes.
Years of disappointment.
Years of fear.
Years of sleepless nights.
They had all reached their limit.
Mr. Campbell pointed toward the front door.
Mr. Campbell: "...Leave."
Dwayne blinked.
Dwayne: "...What?"
Mr. Campbell: "GET OUT!"
Mrs. Campbell: "Honey, don't—"
Mr. Campbell: "NO!"
His voice shook with anger.
Mr. Campbell: "As long as you choose those criminals over your own family..."
Mr. Campbell: "...you are no longer my son."
The words struck harder than any bullet.
Dwayne stared at his father.
His breathing grew heavier.
His fists tightened.
Dwayne (Thinking): After everything...
He's throwing me away...
His heartbeat echoed in his ears.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
At that exact moment...
Thousands of kilometers away...
An explosion unlike anything in human history released an invisible wave of energy from Nigeria.
The wave crossed forests.
Deserts.
Oceans.
Cities.
Until...
It reached Jamaica.
It passed silently through the Campbell home.
Dwayne suddenly grabbed his head.
Dwayne: "Agh...!"
A burning sensation spread throughout his body.
Tiny sparks erupted from his fingertips.
Mrs. Campbell stepped forward.
Mrs. Campbell: "Dwayne?"
The floor trembled.
The windows rattled.
Mr. Campbell looked around in confusion.
Mr. Campbell: "An earthquake?"
The sparks around Dwayne multiplied.
Crimson energy crackled around his arms.
His emotions spiraled out of control.
PAIN. ANGER. FEAR. REGRET.
All at once.
Dwayne screamed.
Dwayne: "AAAAAAAHHHHH!!"
Then...
Everything exploded.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!
The blast consumed the entire neighborhood in an instant.
Homes vanished.
Cars were hurled through the air.
Trees snapped like twigs.
A towering pillar of fire rose into the night sky, visible from miles away.
The shockwave shattered windows across Kingston.
Then...
Silence.
....
...
A faint ringing echoed in Dwayne's ears.
His eyes slowly opened.
Smoke filled the air.
Ash drifted down like black snow.
His head throbbed.
He slowly pushed himself off the ground.
Dwayne: "...W-What..."
The house...
Was gone.
Every neighboring building...
Gone.
Nothing remained except burning rubble.
Dwayne stumbled forward.
His legs trembled beneath him.
Dwayne: "Mom...?"
No answer.
Dwayne: "...Dad?"
Only the crackling of flames.
Then...
He saw them.
Two motionless figures lying beneath broken concrete.
His father's arm.
His mother's necklace.
Dwayne froze.
His entire body shook.
Dwayne: "...No..."
He rushed toward them, desperately pulling away pieces of rubble until his hands bled.
He reached his mother first.
She wasn't breathing.
His father lay only a few feet away.
Equally still.
Dwayne collapsed between them.
Dwayne: "...Wake up..."
Nothing.
Dwayne: "Please..."
Silence.
Tears poured down his face.
For the first time since joining the Iron Yard Crew...
Dwayne cried without holding anything back.
Dwayne: "I'm sorry...
"I'm so sorry..."
In the distance...
Sirens wailed once more.
Fire trucks.
Police cruisers.
Ambulances.
Their flashing lights reflected off the smoke.
An officer shouted through a loudspeaker.
Officer: "We have survivors! Search the area!"
Another voice followed.
Officer 2: "Wait! Someone's moving over there!"
Dwayne looked up.
His eyes were red.
Without another word...
He turned...
And disappeared into the darkness.
SOMEWHERE IN KINGSTON, JAMAICA...
The night was cold.
Not because of the weather...
But because Dwayne Campbell had lost everything.
For three days, he wandered through the outskirts of Kingston.
No home.
No family.
No destination.
The authorities had declared the explosion one of the worst disasters in Jamaica's history.
No one knew what had caused it.
No one knew a single survivor had walked away from the center of the blast.
Dwayne kept his hood over his head and avoided crowded areas.
His stomach growled.
He hadn't eaten since the day his parents died.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled wad of Jamaican dollars.
The last of the money he'd earned from the Iron Yard Crew.
Dwayne (Thinking): This should be enough...
A small roadside gas station came into view.
Its bright lights cut through the darkness.
Dwayne lowered his hood slightly and walked inside.
A bell chimed as the door opened.
Ding!
Cashier: "Evening."
Dwayne simply nodded.
He grabbed two bottles of water...
A loaf of bread...
A few canned meals...
And a packet of crackers.
As he walked toward the counter, the television mounted in the corner caught his attention.
The news was still covering the mysterious worldwide phenomenon.
News Reporter: "Scientists across the globe continue investigating the unexplained energy wave that spread across the Earth three days ago."
Images of different countries flashed across the screen.
People levitating.
Cars floating.
Lightning erupting from someone's hands.
Water bending into impossible shapes.
The reporter continued.
News Reporter: "Governments have now confirmed that approximately 0.1% of the world's population has developed extraordinary abilities."
Everyone inside the gas station stopped what they were doing.
Customer: "Only point one percent?"
Customer 2: "Still... that's millions of people."
The screen changed.
A map of Africa appeared.
A red circle highlighted one country.
Nigeria.
News Reporter: "Current evidence suggests the mysterious energy wave originated somewhere in Nigeria, Africa."
News Reporter: "Authorities have yet to determine the exact location of the initial explosion."
Dwayne stared silently.
Nigeria...
Then another headline appeared.
THE BACKBENCHERS SAVE CIVILIANS FROM SUPERPOWERED PRISONERS
Video footage began playing.
Seven young heroes stood in the middle of a destroyed highway.
The Backbenchers.
"FORGE" effortlessly restrained chunks of flying concrete.
"BLU" blurred across the battlefield, rescuing trapped civilians before anyone could blink.
"HELIOS" blasted waves of fire into the sky to divert falling debris.
"PHASE" teleported behind one of the escaped prisoners and disarmed him.
"ARCANE" created glowing magical barriers to shield innocent people.
"TECHNO" coordinated everyone through holographic displays.
Finally...
"NOVA" floated high above the battlefield.
With a single motion of his hand...
Gravity crushed the last escaped prisoner into the ground.
The crowd watching erupted into applause.
Customer: "Those kids are incredible."
Customer 2: "They're heroes."
Cashier: "Nigeria's lucky to have people like them."
The words echoed in Dwayne's head.
Heroes...
His vision blurred.
Suddenly—
His father's voice.
"Get out of my house!"
His mother's voice.
"Please... you can still change..."
The image of their lifeless bodies beneath the rubble flashed before his eyes.
Dwayne's breathing became rapid.
Dwayne: "...No..."
His hands began trembling.
Small red sparks danced across his fingertips.
Crackle...
Customer: "...Uh..."
Customer 2: "Is that normal?"
The sparks spread across Dwayne's arms.
The lights overhead flickered violently.
Dwayne clutched his head.
Dwayne: "Stop..."
His heartbeat pounded louder and louder.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
The television continued playing.
Reporter: "The Backbenchers have become international symbols of hope following the disaster—"
Dwayne screamed.
Dwayne: "SHUT UP!!"
An explosive shockwave burst from his body.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!!
The gas pumps outside erupted first.
Flames shot into the night sky.
Cars exploded one after another.
The windows shattered instantly.
The roof collapsed inward.
Customers screamed as they ran for their lives.
Within seconds...
The entire gas station became a sea of fire.
Smoke billowed hundreds of meters into the air.
Pieces of metal rained down around the burning station.
Silence followed.
Dwayne slowly opened his eyes.
He was standing in the middle of the inferno.
His clothes weren't burned.
His skin wasn't even scratched.
The flames bent around him as if they refused to touch their master.
He looked at his trembling hands.
Dwayne: "...I..."
"...did this?"
He stared at the destruction around him.
People were fleeing in terror.
Sirens echoed in the distance.
For a moment...
He wanted to cry.
But no tears came.
Instead...
Something else filled the emptiness.
Hatred.
Dwayne clenched his fists.
Tiny explosions erupted around his feet.
Dwayne: "Nigeria..."
He looked toward the burning television.
Although cracked and barely functioning, the final image on the screen remained.
The Backbenchers.
Their smiling faces.
Dwayne's eyes darkened.
Dwayne: "Everything started in Nigeria..."
"...because of that explosion."
He took one slow step forward.
Dwayne: "If none of this had happened..."
"...my parents would still be alive."
His explosive aura intensified.
The remaining fuel tanks detonated behind him.
BOOOOOOOOM!!
Without looking back, Dwayne walked away from the burning wreckage.
As the sirens grew louder behind him, he whispered a vow that would shape his future.
Dwayne: "Backbenchers..."
"...I'll make you suffer."
"...Even if I have to burn the whole world to do it."