In the tumultuous expanse of the Bering Sea, a formidable fishing boat bravely navigated the surging waves.
Its crew, a band of seasoned men, was well-versed in the relentless pursuit of large wild crab. Their profession was a grueling test of endurance and fortitude, reserved for only the most tenacious spirits; it was a job that demanded more than just skill—it required unwavering resolve.
One among them, Clark Kennedy, was intently focused on tying a surgeon's knot when an ominous plume of dark smoke suddenly caught his eye, rising ominously against the sky. He instinctively dropped his rope and made his way to the edge of the deck, joining his crewmates as they paused their work to witness the catastrophic blaze of an oil rig flickering menacingly in the distance.
"Jesus…" Clark breathed, his voice barely rising above the roar of the sea.
The vessel's captain, Joe Siegel, barked a command through the crackling radio. "Gentlemen, secure the deck!" His authoritative voice cut through the murmur of the crew, drawing their attention with urgency. "We just received a distress call from a rig due west of us. Secure the deck now!"
Around the blazing oil rig, rescue boats and fellow fishing vessels hurried into action, maintaining a cautious distance from the inferno. They raced forward, eager to assist the workers fleeing the now-crippled platform, while a Coast Guard helicopter circled overhead, its blades slicing through the air in search for any signs of life among the rig.
On one of the nearby fishing vessels, the crew tirelessly helped six saved oil workers aboard, their expressions a mix of relief and disbelief. Nearby, forgotten orange inflatable boats bobbed and danced on the churning waters, a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding in the backdrop of the fiery scene.
"Hey, man, you okay?" Steve, one of the fishing crew members, asked as he wrapped a blanket around an oil crew worker. The man was tired, injured, and out of breath.
"F-forget about me! There's a crew trapped inside! They're stuck in the engine room! We have to go back! I told them we'd go back for them!" The worker said in a panic. He tried to stand but was pushed down.
"Easy! Easy! There's nothing you can do! I'll tell my captain, and he'll radio to the Coast Guard; they'll help. Okay?" Steve said as he looked over to his fellow crewmate. "Watch him!"
Steve hurried up the sloping deck, his heart pounding with urgency as he reached the boat's control room. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and saltwater. Inside, his captain sat transfixed, staring out at the inferno raging on the horizon—the oil rig ablaze, its silhouette flickering against the backdrop of a darkening sky.
Small explosions intermittently shattered the tense silence, sending plumes of flame and debris spiraling into the air, while heavy chunks of wreckage tumbled into the turbulent, fiery sea below. Each blast echoed like a distant thunderclap, resonating in Steve's chest and deepening his sense of foreboding.
"Captain! Captain! One of the oil workers told me that there are still men trapped inside the rig! You gotta tell the Coast Guard!" Steve said as he grabbed the door frame tightly.
"Shit!" Captain Williams frowned and picked up his radio. "Coast Guard, this is Captain Williams. I was just informed that there are still men trapped inside. I repeat, there are men trapped inside!"
"Copy that, Captain Williams," The pilot for the Coast Guard helicopter, Evan, said over the radio. "Unfortunately, we were just notified that the sub-sea valves have failed… the rig is about to explode."
"Roger, Coast Guard... What about the men left inside?" Captain Williams said in a defeated tone.
"We're sorry… There's nothing we can do." Evan said as he continued to circle the flaming oil rig.
Despite his words, Evan continued to watch the helipad in hopes that those inside would somehow make it outside for him to pick them up. But as time ticked on, his and everyone's hopes began to dwindle as more and more explosions began to occur all over the rig.
Off in the distance, a thunderous sonic boom reverberated across the sky, drawing the gaze of every soul on the boats below. A blazing red and white comet streaked through the heavens.
As the fiery blur soared onward, it hurtled toward the inferno engulfing the beleaguered oil rig. With a mighty crash, it collided into the burning structure.
Tension gripped the crowd, hearts pounding in anticipation, eyes wide with disbelief as they waited for a sign—a miracle. The moment lingered in the air, heavy with dread.
Then, with cataclysmic force, a titanic explosion erupted. Flames shot skyward like vengeful spirits as the oil rig splintered apart, sending fragments tumbling into the sea with a thunderous roar, cascading waves of flaming debris into the atmosphere.
An eerie silence fell upon the onlookers, their faces pale, horror etched into their features.
But from the smoldering ruins, a figure emerged: clad in striking red and white, with a massive crimson sphere shimmering behind him.
Inside that ethereal sphere, the dozen oil rig workers were cocooned in protective gear. Oxygen masks adorned their faces, while cooling blankets draped their weary bodies.
Cheers erupted like a tidal wave from the vessels surrounding them. While piloting his helicopter, Evan exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, his heart lightened by the sight of the men below.
Atomic descended onto the deck of Captain Siegel's ship. Gently, he laid the men under his care upon the deck, careful not to exasperate their injuries. As he unfurled the protective sphere, a wave of triumph washed over the crew, igniting their spirits as they rallied around the oil crews savior.
"I need some help!" Atomic called out, promoting the fishermen to action.
Atomic tirelessly created all the necessary supplies and equipment to care for the surviving oil rig workers scattered across the various ships, working diligently to treat each individual for injuries and smoke inhalation. His presence on the scene was palpable, and as he moved among them, the crew members couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and awe in the proximity to someone they regarded as larger than life.
"Careful now, you fractured your arm," Atomic said, his voice steady as he carefully fashioned a tight cast around one of the worker's arms, the crisp sound of wrapping material punctuating the air. "There. That should hold you until we can get you to a hospital."
"Here, take these oxygen tanks to those men," Atomic instructed, creating several sturdy oxygen tanks with a swift motion. He handed them off to two fishermen, their faces etched with relief and gratitude as they nodded quickly in response.
The hero moved quickly and calmly amidst the overwhelming scent of ocean brine and weeks of unwashed fish, choosing to focus solely on the task at hand. He did not seek praise or try to draw attention to himself; his quick, confident actions spoke volumes, earning him the deep respect and admiration of everyone aboard the surrounding vessels.
To them, Atomic had become a beacon of hope—a true hero in their eyes.
"Now that I know everyone is okay," Atomic said, glancing at the still-blazing oil rig, its flames licking the darkening sky. "Let's take care of this mess."
In a magnificent burst of speed, Atomic soared toward the fiery structure, his form a blur against the chaos, as he began to circle around it, determined to put an end to the destruction.
Right before everyone's eyes, the roaring flames that had engulfed the oil rig began to flicker and die. In mere moments, what had once been a seething inferno of fiery orange and blackened steel was reduced to a charred husk, wispy tendrils of smoke curling lazily into the air. Even the dark, viscous oil that had spilled into the ocean had been quickly cleared away, a feat that would typically take weeks, if not months, to accomplish through conventional cleanup methods.
Yet, in less than five minutes, it all had been cleaned up by Atomic.
Soaring back toward the boats, Atomic gracefully landed on one of the vessels, where a wave of applause erupted around him like a breaking tide.
"You don't have to do that," he said, a humble smile tugging at his lips. "I'm just glad I got here in time." His gaze shifted westward over the vast expanse of the ocean. "It'll take too long for the Coast Guard to bring everyone back to shore… looks like we're taking the jet."
With confident determination, Atomic approached the vessel's edge and raised his hands, channeling the ocean's water into a shimmering, glowing construct. The elongated jet took shape, reminiscent of the one he'd crafted in Lake Tahoe, but this one was smaller, carefully designed to accommodate the 67 oil rig workers huddled nearby.
"All right, everyone on board!" Atomic called out, turning to face the astonished crew members, their eyes wide with disbelief and admiration.
••o••o••o••
"I'm Anya Corazon with WHiH, reporting live from the Bering Sea. In shocking news, the world-famous hero, Atomic, has suddenly reappeared over these very waters after being missing for several days following his battle in New Mexico," news reporter Anya Corazon said as she held a microphone. She was dressed in a raincoat, her body swaying with the ocean's waves. Behind her stood the charred remains of an oil rig.
"Not only has he returned without warning or explanation, but he also prevented multiple oil rig workers from dying as they were trapped in the engine room while a terrible fire engulfed the structure. Using his incredible abilities, Atomic was able to subdue the flames and avert what could have been a devastating oil spill, protecting the local marine life," Anya added, gesturing to the crystal-clear waters below the ruined rig.
"Simply incredible," the video feed switched to Christine Everhart in the WHiH studio. "When we return, we will feature exclusive interviews with the oil rig crew, detailing their harrowing experience and the rescue by New York's greatest hero."
••o••o••o••
"I don't know if I'd call myself the greatest... Spider-Man is pretty awesome," Wyatt said, looking away from the large television screen to find Wanda and Kitty standing behind him in the electronics store. His arms were filled with several shopping bags.
"You're selling yourself short, Wyatt. You're pretty amazing," Kitty said with a cute smile. Seeing this, Wanda hummed, and her expression shifted to one of realization as they walked out of the store and began exploring the large shopping mall.
"I think you could use a bit more… pizazz," Wanda said, amusedly, giving Wyatt a grin. "How are you holding up, bag boy?"
"Pretty well, I think. It's been a while since I've been to a mall," Wyatt smiled as he effortlessly lifted the eight bags in his arms.
Kitty glared at Wanda and took half of her purchases from Wyatt. "Don't call him 'Bag Boy.' It's rude."
"It's alright. I don't mind," Wyatt said as he glanced at a pair of shoes behind a glass window. "I understand that the sleep-deprived can't think straight."
"It's makeup! I get plenty of sleep. Also, you wouldn't be in this situation if you had just shown up for our training yesterday. This is your punishment," Wanda shot back quickly, ignoring the love-struck looks from a couple of teenage boys as she passed by. Seeing this, Kitty frowned.
Kitty had always considered herself quite a catch—confident, witty, and charming in her own right.
Yet, when it came to Wanda, she couldn't help but acknowledge the undeniable truth: Wanda was stunningly beautiful. With her luminous skin, flowing hair, and a smile that could light up a room, Wanda effortlessly turned heads wherever she went.
It was a reality that nagged at Kitty, a constant thorn in her side, stirring up feelings of envy and inadequacy. No matter how hard Kitty tried to shine, she often felt overshadowed by Wanda's effortless allure, a fact that irked her to no end and left her silently grappling with her own insecurities.
"I said I was sorry. I was stuck in another realm! I can't exactly fly from Asgard to Earth… or at least, I don't think I can," Wyatt said, looking thoughtful.
"See? You didn't even try. You just wanted to party, didn't you?" Wanda replied, slowing down to pinch Wyatt's ear. "Go on, admit it. Just know it will cost you another pair of shoes."
"I refuse."
Kitty frowned, a tight knot forming in her stomach as she observed Wyatt and Wanda engaged in conversation.
Their laughter flowed effortlessly, and the way they exchanged glances revealed an almost intimate closeness. At least, Kitty thought so. It was hard to believe they had only met two months ago; their familiarity suggested years of shared experiences.
Wyatt laughed as Wanda had seemingly tripped on solid air, which he had discreetly created, resulting in Wanda smacking him in the back of his head using a small burst of her power.
Should I even have come? Kitty thought sadly as she walked a little faster.
When Wyatt arrived at the X-Mansion after his brief disappearance, he was instantly engulfed by a throng of students, each eager to get a glimpse of the hero they had come to admire. The buzz around him stemmed from everything he had accomplished in recent months, which had earned him nearly legendary status among the school's populace.
It was a stark reminder of the burden and honor associated with being a symbol of hope for mutants. The atmosphere was electric, especially with the arrival of some newer students who had chosen to stay after the tumultuous court hearing.
They had quickly learned about Atomic's true identity and were now fervent admirers, enthusiastic to meet the person behind the mask. Their eyes sparkled with curiosity as they peppered Wyatt with questions about his extraordinary adventures.
"Where have you been all this time?" one student inquired, eyes wide with excitement.
"What's the story behind that suit of armor you fought in New Mexico?" another added, his tone a mix of awe and disbelief.
Fortunately, Scott and Jean, regarded as two of the most respected figures within the school, stepped in to help manage the situation, guiding the students to give Wyatt some breathing room.
Once the commotion settled, Wyatt took a deep breath and began to answer as many questions as he could, his voice steady and reassuring as he shared snippets of his recent exploits.
From there, Wyatt had greeted and chatted with the school's professors before moving on to catch up with Kitty and the rest of his main friends. Wyatt and Scott had even talked for a while before he moved on to find Wanda.
Despite having talked and caught up with Wyatt for several minutes, Kitty couldn't bring herself to mention the upcoming Winter Ball that Charles was throwing to celebrate all the changes made for mutants.
Each time Kitty tried to ask Wyatt to go with her, someone would interrupt her, or she would lose her nerve. It also didn't help that Rogue was watching from a distance, her smirk clearly saying, "Just ask him."
In the end, Rogue sighed in disappointment and was about to help Kitty when Wanda suddenly appeared and whisked Wyatt away from the mansion.
Determined to see what the two had going on, Kitty and Rogue followed the pair outside to the training yard. For the next two hours, Wyatt helped Wanda train her powers, much to Rogue's disappointment and Kitty's relief. Just when Kitty and Rogue thought they could leave, Wanda's following words stopped them in their tracks.
"You're taking me shopping. Right now," Wanda declared out of nowhere.
At that moment, Rogue smiled and gently pushed Kitty out into the open.
"Didn't you say you needed new shoes? This is perfect! Wyatt, you don't mind bringing Kitty along with you guys, do you?" Rogue asked as she pushed a blushing Kitty out in front of Wyatt and Wanda, who were confused at their sudden appearance.
Wyatt, being the nicest and greatest person Kitty knew and admired, had agreed without a beat.
And so, here she was several hours later, feeling like a third wheel as Wyatt was dragged around by Wanda, who was buying everything she wanted. To make matters worse, Wyatt had offered to do the same for Kitty. As a result, she ended up with several shopping bags full of clothes and accessories.
Who could blame her? It's not everyday that you had a opportunity to go shopping without any limits.
Kitty had been so caught up in her shopping spree that she had completely forgotten her original mission of asking Wyatt to go the upcoming ball with her.
"Kitty? You alright?"
Kitty was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that Wyatt had walked up beside her. She blushed in embarrassment and quickly turned to see Wanda examining a guitar in a music store.
Now's my chance! Kitty thought, steeling her resolve.
"Kitty?"
"Wyatt!" Kitty abruptly replied as she stepped closer to him, her already red face growing even hotter. "I-I… there's something I wanted to ask you."
Wyatt smiled and nodded, a bit puzzled by Kitty's erratic behavior, but he didn't mind.
"Did you know that the Professor is throwing a winter ball in a few weeks? I was wondering if you'd like to go… with me. But if you're not going, that's totally cool! Ballroom dancing can be, like, super lame, right?" Kitty asked nervously, trying to sound casual.
"The winter ball? Yeah, I heard about it. The Professor mentioned it to me earlier today. He was trying to convince me that having Atomic make a special appearance would help strengthen public relations between the school and the community," Wyatt said as he gestured for Kitty to sit on a nearby bench. She looked hopeful at his response, but her expression quickly fell at his following words. "But I turned him down. I don't think Atomic should be making appearances at parties to charm the media or rich donors."
"Oh…" Kitty murmured, feeling dejected.
"But I, Wyatt Wilkins, can definitely show up for a little while," Wyatt smiled. "So, yeah, I'll go with you. I've never been to a ball before; it could be fun."
Kitty blinked before a radiant smile spread across her face.
"What are you talking about?" Wanda asked as she walked over to them, a new guitar case resting on her shoulder.
"You know, when I agreed to take you shopping, I didn't think you'd be so shameless with my credit card," Wyatt said with an exasperated expression.
"You can literally make a mountain of gold. Money isn't a problem for you. Also, let this be a lesson: don't tell a girl that she can buy whatever she wants on a shopping spree," Wanda grinned, then turned to Kitty, who was clearly in a happy mood. "What's with KitKat?"
"I'm in too good a mood to argue with you, Wanda," Kitty said as she stood up. "Hey, let's go to the food court to grab a bite. I'm starving!"
Wyatt and Wanda watched as Kitty walked off, seemingly walking on air.
"Okay, what did you do to her?" Wanda asked as they followed after Kitty.
"What? Why are you assuming I did something? And why do you keep calling Kitty 'KitKat'?" Wyatt replied.
"Because it's funny. Now spill," she insisted.
"I'm not too sure. All I did was agree to go with her to the Winter Ball. I guess she was really looking forward to it," Wyatt said, glancing over at some Atomic-themed book bags and other merchandise displayed behind a large Hot Topic store glass window, missing Wanda's expression of disbelief.
"…you're kidding, right?" Wanda said. "Tell me you're not actually that dense? That girl totally has the hots for you."
"Yeah… I know."
"So? Do you… like KitKat like that?"
Wyatt frowned and watched as Kitty stopped to peer into a Bath & Body Works shop.
Wyatt reflected on everything he and Kitty had experienced together. He vividly recalled the afternoons spent with their close-knit group of friends, where laughter filled the air and conversations flowed around light-hearted topics. He remembered how she had always stood by his side and was the first to defend him whenever it was needed—especially when he made the tumultuous choice to break all the mutants out of the MRD facility.
However, as his responsibilities as Atomic became heavier, those simple gatherings grew more infrequent, slipping away like sand through his fingers.
The world outside his bubble of friends beckoned him, demanding his attention and commitment to causes that felt much larger than himself.
Yet, amidst the weight of duty, a smile crept onto his face as he thought of Kitty. He cherished the moments spent with her—how her laughter could light up a room and her ability to turn even the most mundane topics into captivating discussions. Despite the distance created by his obligations and responsibilities, Wyatt knew deep down that his fondness for Kitty remained strong.
But did he share the same feelings as she did for her?
"I… don't know," Wyatt said with a sigh. "Maybe this dance will help clarify things. I guess I just never considered romance with my responsibilities as Atomic. Life can sometimes get away from me. Heck, I don't even remember if I celebrated my own birthday this year."
Wanda nodded slowly, her fingers relaxing against the smooth leather strap of her new guitar case. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, revealing a mixture of uncertainty and apprehension that clouded her eyes.
Feeling a little uncomfortable, Wyatt decided to lighten up the mood and looked over to a small store selling more superhero merchandise, primarily Atomic themed merch. "I should really talk to someone about the proceeds from my merch," he joked before turning back to Wanda. "Are you going to the ball?"
"To that stupid ball? Probably not," Wanda said as she lifted her new guitar. "I'd rather learn how to play the guitar than get all dressed up in puffy dresses…"
"Really? That's a shame. I bet you'd look nice in one," Wyatt said casually as they arrived at the food court. Missing the brief pink tint of Wanda's cheeks.
"Aw, thanks! I bet you'd look nice in a dress too," Wanda replied with a grin as she bumped Wyatt with her guitar case.
"Funny," Wyatt muttered. "I take that back. I bet you'd look terrible in a dress."
"Just for that, I'm maxing out your credit card."
"…please don't."