The house was quieter than usual. Too quiet.
Sean had confiscated Frank's phone and laptop before breakfast. "You're suspended," he'd said, voice clipped, "not on vacation."
Jane didn't argue. She just set a plate in front of Frank and said, "Eat," like that single word carried all her disappointment.
He ate in silence, eyes down, hands tight around his fork.
Jessica hovered above the table, invisible to everyone but him. She made a face. "You could cut the tension in here with a plasma blade."
Frank didn't answer. He didn't want to smile. Didn't deserve to.
Sean folded his arms. "You'll stay home for the next two days. Chores, studying. No hanging out, no games, no excuses."
"Yes, sir."
Jane sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair back. "Frank… we're not angry because you fought back. We're angry because you lost control."
That hit harder than yelling would have.
Sean stood. "You're better than that, son. Or at least, you can be."
He left the room, boots heavy on the stairs.
Jane lingered a moment. "Clean up when you're done Frankie," she said, then followed him.
When they were gone, Jessica let out a low whistle. "Strict parents, check. Emotional scarring, check. Congratulations, you've unlocked the full human experience."
"Not funny you know," Frank muttered.
She tilted her head. "No. But it's real."
---
Outside, the afternoon sun burned through the clouds. Frank needed air.
He walked down the narrow road that wound behind their neighborhood. His mind kept replaying the moment in the cafeteria—the rush, the power, the flash of fear on everyone's faces.
"You felt it, didn't you?" Jessica asked, gliding beside him. "That split second when the world bent for you."
"I don't want to feel it again."
"You will," she said simply. "And you'll need to control it before it controls you."
Frank stopped walking. "How?"
Jessica flicked her wrist, and a faint blue screen appeared in front of him.
> System Tutorial: Emotional Regulation Mode
Focus on your heartbeat.
Feel your power without summoning it.
Fail, and you'll probably pass out.
Good luck, champ.
He scowled. "You're terrible at pep talks."
"It's part of my charm."
---
He sat under a tree by the park, eyes closed, trying to do as she said. His heartbeat thundered at first, but then softened, matching the rhythm of the wind. He could almost hear something deep beneath it—a hum that wasn't entirely human.
Then a voice cut through the quiet.
"Hey. You're the guy from Westbridge, right?"
His eyes opened.
A girl stood a few feet away, holding a sketchbook against her chest. Brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail, eyes the color of tea left out in sunlight. Her uniform matched his, though her blazer was unbuttoned and her smile looked more curious than cautious.
"Uh, yeah," he said. "Frank."
"Emily," she replied. "Mind if I sit?"
He nodded, unsure why his chest felt lighter all of a sudden.
She sat down, flipping open her sketchbook. "You kinda disappeared after lunch yesterday. People were talking."
"Yeah. Got into a bit of trouble."
"I heard." She didn't sound judgmental. Just… observant. "But you don't look like someone who starts fights."
Frank looked away. "Guess looks can lie."
Emily smiled faintly. "Or maybe people just don't bother to ask."
Jessica appeared behind him, half-transparent, whispering, "Oh, she's cute. And bold. I like her."
Frank resisted the urge to groan. "You're not helping."
Emily blinked. "What?"
"Uh—nothing. Talking to myself."
She tilted her head. "You're weird."
"Yeah," he said, "I get that a lot."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching clouds drift by. For the first time in days, Frank felt something calm flicker in his chest—something that wasn't fear or guilt.
Jessica drifted close, voice softer now. "See? Friend number one. Quest progress: seventy percent."
Frank smiled to himself.
Emily noticed. "What's funny?"
"Nothing," he said. "Just… feels like the world's a little less heavy today."
She closed her sketchbook, standing. "Then I guess I'll see you around, Frank Winchester."
When she walked away, Jessica hovered beside him, her glow catching the afternoon light. "You're getting better at this whole human thing."
He chuckled. "That's your lesson one, right?"
"Lesson one," she said, smiling, "is don't let guilt chain you. Lesson two… starts tomorrow."
The breeze carried her words away, but Frank could still feel them humming somewhere deep, right next to that power he feared.