Chapter 1: Sparks in the Smogline
The Smogline District was exactly what its name suggested: a tangled maze of soot-stained brick, hissing pipes, and the constant scent of molten metal, mixed with a faint undercurrent of chemical tang that made every breath taste like burning copper. If the world above the smog could be called modern, Ironvale City was the leftover ashes of its industrial past, stitched together with ambition, half-hearted renovation, and the occasional explosion.
And in the middle of that mess sat an old train depot, mostly forgotten by the city but entirely remembered by a small group of underdogs calling themselves the Rust Unit. Rust Unit, as far as the world was concerned, was the local equivalent of a janitorial team with delusions of grandeur. To the team, however, it was home, headquarters, and occasionally, battlefield all at once.
Inside the depot, the smell of grease mingled with burnt noodles and faint ozone from Jax's tinkering, creating a uniquely Ironvale aroma. And at the center of it all was Champ Johnson, sixteen going on seventeen, hair perpetually mussed, hands slightly singed from an experiment gone wrong twenty minutes ago, and the very definition of "underdog energy."
"Champ! For the last time," Lira Vaughn called, wagging a finger that was, as usual, smudged with rust. "If you don't stop fiddling with the generator, we're going to blow out the entire block and you can explain that to the city's 'complaint department.' Again."
"Hey!" Champ protested, holding up a soldering iron like a knight wielding a sword. "It's not broken—it's… improving. That's what I call innovation!"
"Improving," Lira repeated slowly, raising an eyebrow that could cut steel. "The last time you said that, the kettle exploded, the roof vent fell off, and Ena screamed like she was auditioning for a horror movie."
Ena Sol, the quietest member of the team, peeked out from behind a stack of metal crates. "I still maintain it was a dramatic choice," she said, voice flat, deadpan. But the corners of her mouth betrayed a faint grin.
Kiro Dane, leaning against a pipe that dripped water onto his boot, snorted. "Dramatic choice? I call it 'Champ nearly destroying the only place that doesn't actively try to kill us.' You're like a walking warning label."
"Hey, hey," Champ said, holding up both hands. "I am learning, okay? This is how geniuses work. Chaos is just part of the process!"
"Genius my foot," Rook Callen muttered from the corner, adjusting his oversized gloves. "You're lucky this is a Rust Unit project, not a real mission. The city can't afford your 'learning experiences.'"
"Oh, come on," Champ groaned. "A real mission? Like what, stopping a guy from stealing a bike? Or an S-rank walking by and casually vaporizing the entire neighborhood? That kind of mission?"
Lira sighed, shaking her head. "You know what, Champ? Keep talking. We'll see how charming your sarcasm is when someone actually breaks into the Smogline Bank again."
At that precise moment, a loud clanging echoed from the street outside, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone yelling in panicked desperation.
"Probably just Jax testing another gadget," Champ muttered, peering out the window. But the sight of smoke and a scattering crowd quickly made him rethink that assumption.
"It's… it's a real person in trouble," said Noah Crest, standing off to the side with a small notebook, scribbling furiously. "Possibly an anomaly… definitely someone causing chaos."
The team snapped into action with a practiced rhythm. Lira grabbed her batons, Kiro flexed his hands (already feeling the air moisture gathering), Rook tightened his gloves, and Ena's eyes flickered as she gathered a slight charge around her fingertips. Champ… took a deep breath and whispered, "Okay… here we go."
He really wasn't sure what he was doing.
The street outside Smogline had been reduced to controlled chaos. A rogue anomaly had apparently decided that today, the best way to announce their existence was to throw exploding firecrackers at everything that looked expensive. Buildings smoked. Streetlights sparked. And at the center of it all, the anomaly was dancing around like a caffeinated puppet, tossing flames the size of barrels in every direction.
"Yeah, this is definitely worse than a bike thief," Champ muttered.
"Focus!" Lira barked. "Split up! Remember the plan—oh right, we don't have one. Improvise!"
Champ's heart raced. Okay, improvise. I can improvise. I'm good at… improvising. Yep.
He charged forward, only to slip on a slick patch of chemical residue. For a moment, he imagined himself sprawled dramatically on the ground, heroic music playing in his head. Then he tripped over his own foot and faceplanted into a puddle. The anomaly paused mid-dance and tilted its head.
"Great," Champ muttered through wet hair. "They're watching me fail."
"Focus, Champ!" Kiro shouted, finally deciding to do something with his water manipulation. He scooped up a burst of puddle water, condensed it into a blade-like shape, and flung it at the anomaly. The attack missed completely—but it splashed back onto Champ, soaking him further.
"I said I was improvising!" Champ yelled, shaking off water, eyes narrowing. Then, something clicked. Or maybe it sparked. His muscles tensed, his senses sharpened, and his reflexes… just got a little faster. He caught himself mid-stumble, landed in a crouch, and instinctively yanked a nearby piece of metal pipe, reinforcing it in midair with a barely noticeable shimmer.
Wait… what just happened?
He swung the pipe. It felt… right. Stronger than it should be, like it had adapted to his grip, bending slightly but not breaking. The anomaly paused again, sensing a new energy in this tiny F-rank human.
"Uh… guys?" Champ called. "I… I think I just—"
"Don't think!" Lira snapped. "Hit it!"
So he did.
The fight, if one could call it that, was a blur of improvisation and small explosions. Kiro blasted water to create cover, Rook shifted his density to shield teammates from stray fire, Ena zapped power into Champ's pipe just enough to make it glow, and Champ… kept adapting. Every time he got struck or tripped, his body adjusted. Muscles tensed faster, reflexes sharpened, and by some miracle, he was moving like a slightly better version of himself.
Noah watched from a safe distance, muttering, "Incredible… the kid's… evolving. That's… not possible."
Finally, the anomaly, slightly singed and thoroughly confused, paused, then decided discretion was the better part of valor. It sprinted into a side alley, leaving a trail of scorched asphalt and smoke.
The Rust Unit regrouped, panting and smudged in soot.
"You're soaked," Lira said, pointing at Champ, who was now dripping puddles onto the street. "And somehow still alive. That was… something."
Champ tried to flex, showing off his muscles with a goofy grin. "I know, right? Totally planned. Heroic survival instinct. Signature move: faceplant adaptation!"
"Signature move my foot," Kiro muttered, though he gave a faint grin. "Not bad, rookie. You actually kept up for a minute."
"I think…" Noah said slowly, eyes still wide, "I think he just… grew stronger mid-fight. Naturally."
"Naturally?!" Lira snapped. "Explain that."
Champ blinked. "I… don't know? I just… kept getting up?"
Rook laughed quietly, a deep rumble in his chest. "Well, whatever it was, kid, you didn't die. That's a win in my book."
Ena raised a finger at him, sparking a little charge. "And don't think you can tell the GAA about this. Not yet. Let's keep it between us—or, you know, among the small circle of low-rank chaos agents."
Champ grinned sheepishly. "Got it. Secret superpower… check. Now, can someone help me out of this puddle?"
The team laughed, the first real lightness in what had been a smoky, chaotic morning. Rust Unit had survived another day, and Champ… well, he'd survived too. But deep down, he knew this wasn't just luck. Something inside him had changed—and whatever it was, it was only just beginning to spark.
Above them, Ironvale's skyline glimmered faintly through the smog, and somewhere, far above, the GAA was already taking notes.
"Looks like we're on their radar now," Lira said, sighing. "Great. Just great."
Champ grinned, water dripping from his hair, a glint of determination in his bright green eyes.
Radar or not… I'm going to grow until the world has no choice but to see me.
And for the first time in his life, that didn't feel impossible.