Rain hammered down against the streets of Manila, washing the world in silver streaks and thunder. JP tugged his safety gloves tighter as he stared up at the mess of tangled wires on the utility pole. A storm surge had knocked out power across half the district, and someone had the brilliant idea to jury-rig a generator directly into the grid.
"Idiots," JP muttered. "It's like plugging a toaster into a waterfall."
He climbed the slick pole with practiced ease, his belt jangling with tools: pliers, testers, a spool of copper wire. The transformer groaned under the storm, sparks dancing from exposed connections. JP took a deep breath. This was just another night's work.
As he reached for the burnt-out fuse, a blinding crack of lightning split the sky. The surge leapt down, straight into the overloaded transformer.
"Ah, hell."
The explosion was instantaneous. Fire bloomed white-blue, swallowing JP in a cage of voltage. He felt his body seize, nerves lit like fireworks. Pain lanced through him—and then, strangely, a deep calm.
The last thing he thought was:Guess I've been… overcharged.
Darkness claimed him.