Chapter 2: Discovery
The hum of the airplane engines was steady, almost meditative, as Alexander "Alex" Mercer stared out the window at the Atlantic far below. Behind him lay Metro City still reeling from the meteor event, unknowingly reshaped by it. The events of the past few weeks had been nothing short of a whirlwind discovering his extraordinary abilities, witnessing the chaos following the meteor event, and grappling with the unsettling realization that others might be similarly affected.
Weeks earlier, Alex had made the choice to leave. Not to flee, but to breathe. The Metro Gazette hadn’t asked too many questions after his injuries. “A personal project,” he’d told his editor. “Somewhere remote. I need to think.”
What he didn’t say: that he could feel energy thrumming beneath his skin. That he could see too far, hear too much, and move in ways no one should. That he wasn’t sure who he was anymore.
The plane touched down smoothly on a small airstrip in Kenya, the warm African sun welcoming Alex with open arms. As he stepped onto the tarmac, the heat enveloped him, a stark contrast to the chilly, controlled environment of Metro City. He felt a surge of energy as the bright sun touched his skin.
At the dusty airstrip, a tall, older man held a sign that simply read: MR. ALEX. “Welcome to Kenya,” said the man, extending his hand. “I’m Daniel.”
Alex shook it, firm but tired. “Thanks for meeting me. I know it was short notice.” “When a Pulitzer winner calls, you answer,” Daniel replied with a smile. “You said you were looking for silence and space. You’ll find both on the savannah.”
Over the next few days, Daniel guided Alex through the vast landscapes of the Kenyan wilderness. They traveled by jeep and on foot, venturing into areas untouched by modern development. The savannah stretched endlessly, a tapestry of golden grasses swaying under the clear blue sky, punctuated by acacia trees and the distant silhouettes of wildlife.
Days turned into weeks. They drove across savannahs and camped under endless stars. Daniel, once a park ranger and now a quiet guide for those seeking meaning, said little unless it mattered.
At night, Alex sat alone by the fire, watching the galaxies move. His senses reached beyond the horizon. With effort, he could see Saturn’s rings, hear lion cubs play in the distant brush, feel each blade of grass breathe beneath the wind.
"You're quiet tonight," Daniel observed one evening, noticing the contemplative expression on Alex's face.
Alex poked the fire with a stick. "Just… thinking. There's so much we take for granted back home. Out here, everything feels... real."
Daniel nodded thoughtfully. "The land speaks if you're willing to listen and I think you hear more than most."
Alex glanced at him sharply. "Do you believe that everyone has a purpose?"
Daniel considered the question. "I believe that this life is a journey, and along the way, we find paths that call to us. Whether we choose to walk them is up to us."
Alex sighed. "What if you're afraid of the path ahead?"
"Fear often guards the things most worth discovering," Daniel replied gently.
Daniel stirred the fire.
“Everything means something,” he said. “But meaning isn’t given. It’s chosen.”
Alex nodded slowly, staring into the fire. The warmth of the flames mirrored the flicker of hope and determination igniting within him.
Eventually, Alex said his farewells. The quiet voice inside him was louder now—urging him to test his limits and to do that he had to be truly alone.
He traveled east, then south, then into the interior. No reporters. No allies. No distractions.
He ran with cheetahs and outran them. He swam upriver against currents that flipped boats and shrugged off the bites of crocodiles. He lifted a stranded jeep out of a ravine. At first, he checked to see if anyone was watching. Later, he stopped caring.
The sun became his companion. When it touched his skin, he felt whole. Strong. Charged. Somewhere along the way, he realised he hadn’t been hurt, tired, or sick in months. His strength wasn’t stable like the others he’d read about on corners of the internet, it was growing.
Near the Tsavo region, six months in, a familiar sound cut across the wind.
Voices. Human. Armed.
He stopped walking, tilted his head, and listened. “Set the traps near the watering hole,” one voice said. “Quiet. Someone might hear,” another snapped.
Alex’s fists clenched. He’d seen the aftermath of these men before. Ivory. Guns. Blood in the dust.
He kept walking, letting them think they’d surprised him.
Click.
The sound of a rifle behind him. He raised his hands, slowly.
“Turn around.”
He obeyed.
Three poachers emerged from the bush. Dirty boots. Cold eyes.
“You're walking in the wrong places mzungu. Dangerous animals around here.” the leader asked, eyeing the press pass on Alex’s shirt.
“Just taking in the view, the Savannah is beautiful this time of year.” Alex said evenly.
“"Smart men stay in their little tours. We'll take you.” the man said. “To keep you safe of course.”
They led him through dense foliage, the sun's rays filtering through the canopy above. His mind raced with possibilities. He had never tested his invulnerability was he truly bulletproof? He knew he was tough. He'd not been bruised or cut since the meteor shower, but a bullet is something more.
The camp was everything Alex feared: piles of hacked ivory, cages of trembling animals, and the stench of blood. They took his gear, searched his pockets, found his credentials.
“Journalist,” one muttered.
“That’s bad luck for us,” another replied.
“Worse for him,” said the leader, lifting his rifle.
Alex met his gaze.
“You don’t have to do this. Let them go and we can all walk away.”
The leader laughed. “You think you’re in a position to bargain?”
“Not a bargain,” Alex said softly. “A warning.”
The man rolled his eyes and pulled the trigger.
The bullet struck him square in the chest.
It crumpled.
Alex didn’t flinch.
A moment of stunned silence.
Before he could respond, the other poachers opened fire. Bullets whizzed toward him, but each one crumpled upon contact, falling uselessly at his feet. The realisation of his invulnerability settled in.
The men's panic escalated. "Demon!" one screamed, fumbling to reload his rifle. A surge of energy coursed through him—an intense heat building behind his eyes. His vision sharpened unnaturally, zeroing in on the rifles. Without conscious thought, twin beams of crimson light burst forth from his eyes, striking the weapons. The rifles heated instantly, metal glowing red before melting into molten pools. The poachers yelped in pain, dropping the searing remnants.
He blinked, amazed by what he'd just done. Heat vision. He moved faster than thought. In a blur of motion, the rifles bent like plastic in his hands.
"Stay back!" the leader shouted, backing away.
He advanced slowly. "This ends. No more killing. No more suffering."
One of the poachers fell to his knees. "Please, don't hurt us!"
He looked at them, men who had caused so much pain yet now seemed so powerless, so pitiable. "I'm not going to hurt you. But this is over."
They nodded fervently. "If I ever catch you harming another living creature," he continued, his voice firm, "you'll answer to me. And I will catch you."
Without another word, the poachers scrambled to their feet and fled into the wilderness, tripping over roots and underbrush in their haste.
He stood alone in the camp, the silence interrupted only by the muffled sounds of caged animals. Turning his attention to them, he approached a large cage holding a young lion. The creature growled weakly, fear evident in its eyes.
"It's okay," he whispered, grasping the metal bars. With minimal effort, he pulled them apart, creating an opening. The lion hesitated before cautiously stepping out, giving him one last look before bounding away.
He moved from cage to cage, freeing monkeys, antelopes, and exotic birds. Each animal's release brought a sense of purpose, a confirmation that he was on the right path.
As the last creature disappeared into the wild, he surveyed the camp—a symbol of greed and cruelty. He knew that simply dismantling it wasn't enough; a message needed to be sent.
He walked to the center of the camp where the ground was clear. Focusing his heat vision, he carefully etched a bold statement of who he was into the earth—a single letter in a diamond frame. The soil glowed red-hot where the beams traced, the symbol seared into the ground.
He stepped back to admire his work. It was more than just a mark; it was a declaration. His first step into the limelight.
The sun had fully set now, stars beginning to prick the darkening sky. He gazed upward, contemplating the vastness above and the journey ahead. The discovery of his heat vision and the emblem left behind signified a turning point.
A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the distant calls of nocturnal animals. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool night air.
"Time to become who I was meant to be," he murmured.
Turning away from the camp, he began to walk. The path before him was uncharted, but he felt ready to embrace whatever lay ahead. There were others out there who needed help, injustices that needed to be righted.
Six months later, back in Metro City, everything felt louder. Sharper. The chaos of traffic, the crush of bodies, the hum of a thousand overlapping heartbeats—it was all overwhelming.
He called Mira Lumis, an old friend and his occasional therapist when the darker stories took him to terrible emotional places.
“Alex?” Her voice lit up with cautious hope. “You’re back?”
“Just got in,” he said. “We need to talk. A lot’s changed.”
“Meet me at the usual spot?”
“I’ll be there.”
At the café, they embraced warmly, each changed in ways the other could sense.
“You look different,” Mira said, searching his face.
“So do you,” he replied. “I think we all are after the Meteors.”
They sat.
“The world’s shifting, Alex,” Mira said. “People are scared. Everywhere I go there are strange tales of people with powers and I think I... " she paused seeming to change what she was going to say "I think I believe them.”
Mira looked down at her coffee, seeming unwilling to meet Alex's eyes.
Alex nodded. “Then maybe it’s time someone stood up. Someone affected by the Metors, like me.”
Mira smiled.
“And me Alex."