The skyline of New Avalon gleamed under the midday sun, but atop a quiet rooftop, Oliver Reed—now known to the few who had glimpsed his heroics as Volt—fiddled with a console of his own design. Sparks of electricity danced lazily across his fingertips as he adjusted the settings, his eyes scanning graphs and waveforms that only he could decipher.
"This is… strange," he muttered to Ethan Cole, standing beside him, arms crossed. Ironclad's presence was calm, almost grounding, compared to Oliver's electric energy.
"What is?" Ethan asked, tilting his head.
"This," Oliver replied, tapping a small, glowing interface. "There's a signal coming from space. Not natural, not any satellite or probe. Something… intelligent. And according to my calculations, it will reach Earth in exactly three weeks."
Ethan whistled low. "Three weeks isn't a lot of time. If it's dangerous, we'd better get ready."
Oliver nodded, his fingers dancing over the controls again. "Agreed. But first… civilians."
The plaza below erupted in panic. Smoke and chaos filled the streets. A building fire had broken out, trapping dozens inside. Without hesitation, Volt surged forward, electricity crackling around his hands, powering nearby cranes and metal beams to create safe passage. Ironclad followed, bending steel supports to guide panicked citizens away from falling debris.
Together, the two formed a seamless duo. Oliver's lightning precision paired with Ethan's metal manipulation allowed them to lift rubble, open blocked doors, and even redirect a collapsing scaffolding beam away from the trapped civilians. Onlookers watched in awe, capturing the scene with holo-cameras and holo-phones.
When the last child was guided out of the smoke-filled lobby, Oliver and Ethan stood atop a pile of debris, surveying the scene. Their lungs burned, their arms ached, but a new sense of purpose burned brighter than any fatigue.
"Not bad," Ethan said with a grin. "We're not just toys for show. People actually… depend on us."
"Yeah," Oliver replied, brushing soot from his coat. "And apparently, the public likes us."
By nightfall, the news holo-feeds were ablaze with reports: "Mystery Heroes Rescue Dozens in New Avalon Fire" and "Electric Vigilante and Metal-Man Save the Day". Citizens had started calling them Volt and Ironclad, even if no one knew who they really were. The duo's popularity soared, and with it came unexpected attention.
A discreet government liaison appeared the next day, clipboard in hand and expression neutral. "Volunteers for… unusual defense measures?" she asked, eyes glancing at their powers.
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "You mean… you want to officially support us?"
"Exactly. We're offering a facility: six rooms, labs, training sectors, and assistants who can help you study and refine your abilities. Consider it… a head start for the protection of New Avalon."
Ethan exchanged a look with Oliver. "That's… better than we imagined."
The facility, a modern structure nestled on the outskirts of New Avalon, was equipped with advanced labs, training zones for both physical and mental conditioning, and communication systems that linked every room. One feature stood out: a single number, dialed from anywhere, could make the entire house ring—a perfect emergency alert system.
For a few weeks, Volt and Ironclad trained, rescued civilians, and honed their abilities. The adrenaline of saving lives was intoxicating, and the public's admiration fueled them further. Yet, the strain began to show. Late nights monitoring the city, experiments with electricity and metal manipulation, and constant vigilance left both heroes exhausted.
Sitting in the lab one evening, Oliver dropped into a chair, rubbing his temples. "We can't keep this up forever. At this rate, we'll burn out before whatever that signal is even arrives."
Ethan leaned back, his arms crossed, shadowed by the flickering lab lights. "We need more. People we can trust. Heroes who can fight beside us. We can't do it alone."
Their conversation drifted into plans. They drew maps of the city, marking areas where anomalies had appeared, places where ordinary citizens had shown unusual courage or skill. They started connecting dots, searching for potential allies.
A faint hum filled the lab. Oliver's interface beeped urgently, but this time, it wasn't the cosmic signal—just a reminder of their increasing responsibilities. Emails, public reports, citizen alerts, and minor emergencies kept piling up. They glanced at each other, realizing their exhaustion wasn't just physical; it was the weight of expectation.
"Maybe that's the point," Ethan said quietly. "We're not supposed to be the only ones. We're supposed to start something bigger. A team."
Oliver nodded. Sparks flickered around his fingers almost absentmindedly. "Zenith League… it starts with us. But we need… more. And we will find them."
Above New Avalon, the night sky glittered with stars. Somewhere far in the cosmos, an ominous shadow shifted. It remained distant, unseen, but its influence was creeping closer. For now, Volt and Ironclad were unaware of the full scale of the threat. Nexarion would not make his move for another week—or perhaps three—but the countdown had begun.
For now, the heroes slept little, trained often, and patrolled the city. Citizens whispered their names in admiration, unaware of who they really were. The Zenith League was growing, slowly, carefully—its foundation built on trust, courage, and the spark of friendship that had ignited on a chaotic plaza weeks before.
As Oliver leaned over a console, scanning patterns in the starfield, he murmured, almost to himself, "Three weeks… whatever comes, we'll be ready."
Ethan placed a hand on his shoulder. "We have to be. For the city, for the people… and for each other."
And so, as New Avalon slept peacefully under its artificial sun, two young heroes prepared, unaware of the cosmic storm approaching. The next chapter of their lives—and of Earth itself—was about to begin.