In the early 1960s the first influx of awakeners across the globe questioned what it meant to be human.
Powers varied but fear was constant.
An awakened person is supplied with their power by a hollow sphere, found in a awakeners chest or abdomen, quickly being dubbed a Core it produces strands that spread across the entire body.
With the elevated physical prowess coming with awakening, normal weapons became obsolete.
In 1973 a small amount of awakeners went through the process again, giving way to Dual Wielders.
By the mid 1980s, they were acclimated, Houses, Institutions and a global ranking system for the Most Powerful 1000 Awakeners were all introduced.
Human corporations saw the potential profit to be made, comics, magazines, movies raking them in billions. With that they were no longer "other", normalized fear and agenda faded.
Presently Awakeners are hovering at 20 percent of the worlds population, a solid society functioning on strength and ruled by Great Houses and Families.
While cohesion is present on the surface tensions bubble as man cant help but feel threatened when they have no control.
***
"Don't worry, sweetheart." A visibly pregnant woman, attempts to cover her silent tears from her son as he clings to her leg, failing to hide himself from the two doctors waiting patiently to escort him past the lobby of the building.
"Mark, you need to go now." The boys father stands from his kneeling position as he clears his throat, Mark burying his head into his mothers pant leg, cries even harder in response.
"Do you mind?" One of the doctors steps forward, the mother shaking her head wiping away a runaway tear from her cheek.
"Mark, your mom tells us you like superheroes," Mark raises his head as the doctor continues, "My favourite is Supreme Defender, who's yours?"
"The Captain", responding sheepishly, still clinging to his mother.
"Well he's my second favourite." The doctor takes a small inhale before he continues, "Y'know i always wanted to be a superhero, Mark. I never got any super powers though."
"Really?" Mark asks, his whole demeanour shifting as if he's just met a kindred spirit, his parents watch, their expressions growing more woeful.
"Yeah, that's why you cant be sad, you have you're powers. You can be a hero you just need some help figuring out what you can do, which is why we're here. So Mark, can you please come with us?"
Mark looks up to his mother, asking for permission without words, "We cant come with you." His dad ruffles his hair gently, getting Marks attention for a moment before he looks back towards his mother.
The two lock eyes, only for a second. She blinks and with her eyes opening a big fake smile appears, "Its ok, sweetheart. You go with the nice doctors. Be good."
Mark steps from behind his mother and towards the doctor, "We love you, sweetheart." His mother manages to say with what little bit of composure she has left, the smile still holding.
"Love you, too." Mark, smiling back as the doctor takes his hand, tears still running down his face.
The couple watch in silence as the heavy double doors come to a close behind their son.
In the almost completely empty lobby their facades drop.
Burying her head in her husbands chest, she cries uncontrollably as her attempts to speak get increasingly unintelligible.
"Its ok, we'll see him soon." A meagre attempt attempt in consoling his wife.
Six Months After.
A babies loud, continuous shriek echoes into the kitchen, his father pacing back and forth holding the phone in front of his face, "Honey?!" Loud enough to make the screaming seem feeble in comparison.
Laying the phone on the counter for a moment, he walks into the other room, where his baby lays crying hysterically as his wife sits staring blankly, the baby in the seat next to her.
"What are you doing? Scott's crying." He scoops the baby up into his arms, "You need to look after the baby while I do this, ok?" She looks towards him but doesn't answer, her face blank with hollowed out eyes.
"Please", his voice shifting to a plea, "He's our son...", he lowers himself to speak on her level, " He's your baby too." Her gaze falls towards the still crying baby.
A faint voice from the phone somehow reaches the father over his sons cries, hurriedly he hands the baby over to his wife before making his way back to the kitchen.
She hushes the baby cradling him in her arms, as a mother would. The noise gradually fading until its gone completely, the baby drifting to sleep.
Rocking the baby gently as he falls deeper into his nap, a warm and loving smile forming on the mothers face.
Quietly, as to not wake her son, she mumbles something, something so quiet she could hardly even hear the words herself, "You're not my baby."
One Year, Two Months After.
A pristine, white conference room doubles as a meeting room for the couple who sit in silence as they wait, the only noise being the sound of the stroller wheels as it rocks back and forth in front of the mother.
"Mr and Mrs Halford." A woman in a neat business suit calls out as she casually pushes through the door into the room.
"Yes." The Husband, standing to greet her.
"I am--" Before the woman can finish her introduction she is interrupted.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to come across as rude, but I've talked to enough of you to understand I don't need to know your names. We've come to see our son."
The woman opens her mouth to speak but is cut off again, "We haven't seen our son in over a year. Please." His composed voice giving out as he finishes speaking.
The woman's well maintained, cold demeanour falters, "The agreement is no longer an option, Mr Halford. I've been told you need to stop coming here so often."
"But why? Everything was fine!" His raised voice drawing his wife's attention away from her objectless staring for the first time since they entered the room.
"There isn't much I can say," She considers her words before continuing, "Your son-"
"Mark" The mother interrupts, her voice meek but also hoarse, as if this was her first time speaking in years.
Subtly, she clears her throat before speaking again, "Your son, Mark is no longer at this facility."
The air gains a thickness to it, words returning the room to its previous silence.
"Where's my son?" The husband manages to squeak out as he leans back against the table for support, frantically running his hand across his jaw in a vain attempt to calm himself.
His wife watches as he battles his devastation, her face remaining exactly the same, a miserable deadpanned expression.
Quickly opening her suit jacket and reaching into it, a manila envelope is pulled out.
"Its not what was promised but we hope it'll suffice, for now."
"I don't want any more money from you." The father, still leaning against the table waves the envelope away.
"Its not money." She steps toward him, pausing for a moment as she gently lays the envelope down beside him, "I sympathize, I really do."
High heels clatter against the floor as she leaves, giving the pair some privacy.
Slowing her rocking of the stroller, the mother continues watching her husband as he hesitantly picks up the envelope; tearing it open.
Spreading open the ripped ends of the envelope, he realizes what it contains.
"Here." Holding out the envelope for his wife, who abandons the stroller instantly in favour of his offering.
Taking the envelope into her hands she too, hesitates for a moment before pulling out one of the pictures.
Erupting into tears, she brings the picture inches from her face. "My baby", the only thing she manages to say as her grief completely consumes her.
Cries ring out from the stroller, the noise having woken the baby. His mother shifts her body in the opposite direction as his father approaches, picking him up and holding him in his arms as if, in that moment, he was the only thing that mattered.
Six Years, 1 month After.
A man, obviously in a hurry comes to meet the father, who sits alone waiting in the lobby a bag in hand. "Mr. Halford?" The man says, straightening out his suit jacket as he plants his feet.
"Yes. I wont take much of your time", Standing before holding the bag towards the man, "Can you get these to my son?"
The man opens the bag partially to look inside.
"Its just comic books we thought he'd enjoy... I've got to get back, my wife's in the hospital. She needs me." The father says, his voice depleted.
"I'll see what I can do." The man in the suit responds, pity infecting his words as well as his face.
The suited man extends his arm but the father just gives him a half hearted nod before turning to continue the rest of his day.
Seven Years, Ten Months After.
Two men sitting across from one another, a desk separating them in a sleek but lived in office, pictures of a man and his family on the desk.
The man in the photos a completely different person than the one sat in front of the father.
"I'm Sa--"
"I've done this too many times now." The father interrupts with a weathered voice, his head falling into his hand.
"I'm Samuel Newstead, you can have your son back." An air of frustration and annoyance surrounding him.
Suddenly the fathers head springs up from its place in his hand.
He attempts to speak but he cant find the words.
"Not now. In a few months." Samuel, retaining his earlier tone.
"What..? Why? What happened?" The father, now finding his words.
"Your sons a very intriguing subject." Getting comfortable in the office chair, his voice changing alongside his positioning as if they were now talking about something they shared a mutual interest in.
"I've worked on the subject for a little while now; only after every reputable Awakener specializing scientist had their turn though. Well I did this and that, stuff those 'doctors' would never do and something peculiar happened. Would you like to know what that peculiar something was?" Samuels obvious bitterness fading as he asks his question, replaced with a innocent excitement.
Shooting him a confused look, the father cant come up with anything before Samuel answers his own question.
"He reawakened!" A burst of exhilaration. The words linger in the air as Samuel waits for the fathers reaction but only gets an even more dumbfounded look in response.
His excitement dissipates and he slumps back into the chair, "erghhh... those who have awakened a unique ability cannot awaken again."
"Then why did Mark?"
"Thank you!" Samuel, spinning the office chair around playfully, "That's what I wanna know, we're looking at an unprecedented situation and they want to ship him back to the likes of you to play happy family.. No offence. Well I get to keep up with my 'research' while they teach him his ability as long as I play nice so its not all bad I suppose. Except wasting time with trivialities like this, lackeys are lackeys for this exact thing, right?" Flippantly complaining as if this was a disrespectful thing to ask of him.
"I guess they thought a man in your position was the least they could do after all you people have put me and my wife through."
Samuel awkwardly comes to a pause for a moment, thinking to himself, "Maybe?.. Your son awakened telekinesis by the way." A blatant subject change.
"Telekinesis? We've never had a telekinetic in the family."
"Yeah I know," Samuel says reaching forward to grab a wrapped sweet in a bowl on the desk only to be met by its empty remains, "You and your wife's files were an interesting read for a moment," leaning back into the chair, interlocking his fingers and exhaling before continuing, "You like most Purifier users became a lab rat for wacky experimental drugs as soon as you were able and your wife is fresh out of her second psych hold. Not to mention the Willsohns Disease... You chose the wrong person to have kids with. No offence."
The father slowly stands, his breathing shifting and his face giving away his anger.
"Sit down. I wouldn't want to see you get hurt, or god forbid me getting hurt." A slight nervous smile forming on his face, "Wanna know my theory on Mark, his unique ability that is?" Samuel watches his face, his words not changing his expression, "There's only one reasonable conclusion at this stage. His unique ability core is dormant, a first of its kind. And then inside of that dormant core is another core. Interesting, right?" Samuel twists in the chair.
"When does my son come home?" His words coming out in an agitated but steady tone.
Samuel rolls his eyes before tapping away at the keyboard in front of him," How about 4 months, birthday time. Save you some money on the welcome home party at least."
Samuel looks up from the monitor, seeing the fathers face he continues," Best you're gonna get from me. He needs to be trained in his ability, Boss insists."
"I've not been anywhere near those trails since my wife told me she was pregnant with Mark."
Samuel leans back into the chair until it cant go any further.
"I work construction now but I think you knew that already. I'm going to forget what you said since you've brought us great news but i hope we never see each other again, for your sake."
The father moves across the room towards the door.
Pulling it open, Samuel finally retorts, "Its not very smart to threaten someone who has so much to hold over you. Just some advice."
The door closes, leaving Samuel alone.
He looks to the pictures of the smiling family photos on the desk and yawns.
"Shut up." Sitting up and knocking the picture frame to the floor.