Chapter 15 – First Swing
Steven stood at the edge of the academy's old ventilation tower, eyes fixed on the narrow alleyway below. The wind tugged at his coat. His fingers twitched nervously inside the reinforced glove, the new web-slinging gauntlet securely fastened to his wrist.
"This is incredibly stupid," he muttered.
Down on the rooftop across from him, Sera cupped her hands to her mouth. "You're not supposed to say it out loud, you know!"
He grinned, though his stomach was still doing flips. "Can't back out now."
The gauntlet's design was compact twin coil-loaded chambers for synthetic web cartridges, microprocessors to calculate anchor points, and a repurposed trigger mechanism from a crossbow Steven had salvaged in the undercroft.
It had worked in simulations. Kind of. The mannequin tests were a mixed bag mostly rope burns and bruised pride. But this was real.
He raised his arm, aimed at a steel support beam stretching between two rooftops, and tapped the wrist-mounted trigger.
Thwip.
The cable shot out fast, hissing through the air before snapping onto the beam with a magnetic clamp. Steven yanked it gently.
Stable.
Breath caught in his chest, he took three steps back… and ran.
Sera's shout echoed in his ears. "Steven, wait–!"
Too late.
He jumped.
...
...
The web tightened instantly, and for one glorious second, he was flying. The wind roared past his ears. His heart thundered. He twisted midair, letting the momentum swing him across the alleyway.
"This is insane," he screamed, half in terror, half in awe.
The arc reached its peak… and then gravity took over.
Steven let go and aimed his other arm, firing another cable.
Thwip—CLANK.
It latched perfectly.
The gauntlet pulled taut, snapping him forward and up, swinging him onto the next rooftop where he landed in a controlled tumble.
He gasped, flat on his back, staring up at the sky.
A moment later, Sera scrambled up the ladder beside him, panting. "Are you alive?"
He lifted a trembling hand. "Define alive."
She dropped to her knees beside him and slapped his chest not hard, just enough to get her point across. "You could've died, you idiot."
"Not the worst way to go," he groaned. "Better than blowing myself up in a lab."
"Steven."
He turned to look at her, really look. Her hair was wind-tossed, her cheeks flushed from running. She looked equal parts furious and terrified.
And maybe… proud?
He sat up slowly. "It worked."
Sera blinked. "It worked."
They looked at each other for a moment then broke into laughter, giddy and breathless.
Steven held up the gauntlet as the web cables retracted with a satisfying whir. "Version One: Success with minor whiplash."
Sera gave him a long, deadpan look. "You're insane."
He grinned, stretching out on the rooftop like a cat in the sun. "Maybe. But hey… with great power comes great probability of slamming face-first into a wall."
She snorted. "What does that even mean?"
"It means I need better brakes."
She shook her head with a reluctant smile and pulled out a notepad, sitting beside him. "The retraction coils need smoothing. You're lucky the second swing didn't rip your shoulder out."
Steven leaned back against the rooftop pipe, still riding the high. "I'm thinking about adding momentum dampeners. Maybe a gyroscopic stabilizer."
"You mean a glorified shock absorber?"
"Exactly."
The wind brushed over them, cool and sharp. Below, the city buzzed gears turning, lights flickering, the heartbeat of progress in motion.
Steven had done something real. Something impossible. Something only he an outsider, a nobody, a kid with too many sci-fi references and no magic could have done.
Sera rested her head lightly on his shoulder, sketchbook still in her lap.
For a few quiet minutes, they just sat there.
No plans. No inventions. No fear.
Only the sound of the wind, and the memory of flying