Soon, time passed quickly, and now, the living room they were just in now didn't look much like a living room at all.
The couch had been shoved to the far wall, the small table dragged aside, and most of the floor cleared of clutter. Tyrone had even rolled up the old rug, exposing the scarred wooden boards beneath.
It wasn't much, but it was space that they needed to do what they were about to do. Tandy stood barefoot in the center, tugging nervously at the hem of her borrowed shirt, her gaze flicking from the empty floor to Tyrone.
"This feels like we're about to play superheroes or something, which one is your favorite?" Tandy said and asked nervously.
Tyrone shook his head, adjusting the sleeves of his hoodie, "Not play. We need to know what we can do. What they did to us." His voice was steady, but underneath was the same unease that curled in her gut.
"As for my favorite?" He said, thinking for a few moments, "Probably The Flash," Tyrone said after some thought.
"Ohh, mine is Wonder Woman, she's so cool," Tandy said, totally fangirling and rambling about all of Wonder Woman's feats at least until Tyrone coughed to get her attention.
"Oh..sorry, I just get excited when I talk about her," Tandy said and bit her lip out of embarrassment, then extended her hand.
Light unfurled almost instantly, soft threads of brightness sparking from her skin, coiling between her fingers. The glow painted her face in radiant light, reflecting in her wide eyes.
It didn't feel forced. It felt..extremely natural.
"I don't even have to try that hard," she murmured. A nervous laugh slipped out, "Like it's just… waiting for me."
Tyrone watched closely, his dark eyes narrowing at the flicker of brilliance in her palm. He stepped forward, shadows trailing faintly as he was covered in a magnificent cloak that covered him from head to toe.
"Same," he said quietly. "But with this."
The air between them shifted, warmth and cold colliding, light and shadow spiraling toward one another. For a heartbeat, Tandy thought she heard something, like a faint hum in her bones, a vibration that only existed between them.
She pulled her hand back with a sharp inhale, and the glow vanished. The shadows around Tyrone thinned, fading back into his frame.
They looked at each other. Neither spoke, but both felt it: a connection, raw and strange, binding their powers together.
Tyrone broke the silence first, stepping back into the cleared space. "Try more. See what you can make."
Her brows knit. She glanced down at her hands again, then focused. The tingling warmth swelled, light blooming brighter until it hardened in her grip, six inches of solid radiance, humming faintly like a blade forged of sunlight.
Her breath caught, "It's… a dagger."
The dagger dissolved in her hand as quickly as it formed, scattering into motes that faded into the boards.
Tandy blinked, dazed. "That's… insane."
"You can make weapons," Tyrone said simply, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of awe.
"What about you?" she asked, lifting her chin, "Last night, you pulled those men into your cloak. Like it was… alive."
Tyrone hesitated, then closed his eyes. The edges of the room darkened, shadows swelling unnaturally as if drawn to him. His outline blurred, his body hollowing into something that was no longer solid.
Tandy's breath hitched. For a moment, it looked as though Tyrone was becoming the darkness itself—his form wavering like a hole cut out of the world.
Then, with effort, he pulled it back. The darkness recoiled, shrinking until he was just Tyrone again, chest heaving from the effort.
He met her gaze. "It's not just shadows. It's… something else. Like a place. When I pull things in, they don't come back."
Her stomach turned, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she nodded slowly. "Then we need to figure out how far it goes. Where the line is."
Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Tandy broke it with a softer observation.
"Don't you feel it?"
Tyrone frowned, "Feel what?"
"Our bodies. They're different now. Stronger." She flexed her hand, the memory of the dagger still tingling in her palm, "I feel like I knock out a cow with a punch, plus I..." she said, nervously glancing down at her chest and blushing, "I've definitely grown since before what happened,"
"Same, I'm also taller, and I feel myself being stronger, faster.." he murmured.
Tyrone stretched his shoulders, cracking his knuckles. "If we're stronger, faster… we should test it. Not just powers. Us."
Tandy blinked, "You mean… fight each other?"
He nodded once. "Not to hurt. Just spar. See what we're working with."
She exhaled a short laugh, "Alright, but don't cry when you get kicked in the face. I've spent, like, half my life doing pirouettes. You don't wanna mess with the footwork of a ballerina,"
"Yeah?" Tyrone smirked, and the duo squared off in the middle of the cleared space.
Tandy bounced lightly on her toes, every movement balanced and deliberate. Tyrone stood looser, shoulders squared, fists half-raised, the stance of someone who had never trained, but who had survived fights anyway.
The first move was hers. Tandy darted in with dancer's precision, pivoting low and slicing her glowing dagger across the space where Tyrone's ribs had been.
He twisted at the last instant, catching her wrist. She spun with the motion, slipping free, using his grip as a pivot to whirl around him and plant a sharp kick against his side.
"Not bad," Tyrone grunted, stumbling a step but grinning despite himself.
"You either," she shot back, hair swishing as she regained her stance.
They circled again, faster this time, eyeing each-other up intently before Tandy finally launched into a flurry, her movements chaotic but laced with grace.
She feinted left, spun right, light sparking from her fingertips into half-formed daggers she tossed like knives. Tyrone ducked one, swatted another out of the air with his forearm, and charged forward.
She slid beneath his reach, twisting onto her hands and flipping back to her feet with a fluid cartwheel. He blinked, surprised, then barked a laugh. "That's cheating."
"It's dancing," she shot back, cheeks flushed, "don't be mad I'm better on my feet."
His cloak stirred faintly, shadows twitching at his edges like they were itching to be used.
Tandy came at him again, this time more aggressive, throwing wild punches between kicks. Her form was unrefined, wrists too soft, punches too wide, but her agility made up for it.
She was a blur of motion, flowing from one step into the next. Still, the more the fight moved on, the more adept Tyrone became, like a sponge constantly absorbing new information, this was one of his greatest skills, an exceptional learning ability.
He fought back with raw force. When she jabbed, he shoved. When she kicked, he caught her leg, forcing her to hop back awkwardly before she freed herself with a quick spin.
His strikes weren't elegant, straight punches, heavy swings, but every time he landed one, the impact rattled her and made her take a step in hesitation.
Minutes passed like this, both of them sweating, both grinning through their frustration.
Finally, Tandy vaulted forward, dagger blazing. Tyrone sidestepped, catching her mid-spin. She gasped as his arm hooked around her waist, momentum carrying both of them down. He twisted, and with a grunt, slammed her onto the floorboards.
The impact jolted through her body. Before she could recover, he had her pinned, one hand pressing her shoulder, his weight braced just above her, their breaths colliding in the narrow space between.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Tandy froze, her blue eyes widened as they locked onto his, and she realized just how close he was. His face hovered inches away from hers, his ragged breath was tickling her skin, strands of dark curls falling loose across his forehead as she could notice his chest rising and falling hard.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, "Uh…"
Tyrone realized it at the same time. His ears burned red, and he quickly rolled off, muttering, "Sorry, didn't mean to—"
Tandy sat up fast, brushing her hair back, face scarlet, "It's fine! Totally fine. Just… don't make a habit of it."
Silence pressed in for a long moment, their hearts still racing. Finally, Tyrone cleared his throat and decided to bring up a different topic to cut the awkwardness, "Guess… I win that round."
Tandy crossed her arms, trying to scowl but failing to hide her flush. "Don't get cocky. Next round's mine."
A laugh broke out of him, surprising even himself. And when she heard it, she laughed too, the sound ringing bright in the cleared-out room, cutting through the heaviness of everything that had come before.