CHAPTER 3: FIRST NIGHT OUT
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EXT. GRAND STREET PARKING GARAGE – ROOF – NIGHT
The wind was colder than Rez expected. He stood near the edge, hood up, hands jammed in his pockets, watching the city blur below. Midnight. The text had said midnight.
He'd been here thirty minutes early.
Nervous. Definitely nervous.
Footsteps behind him. He turned—
It wasn't Grace.
A boy about his age stood ten feet away, hands in the pockets of a worn jacket, dark hair messy, grin already forming. He looked like someone who'd never been nervous a day in his life.
BOY: You're early.
REZ: You're not Grace.
BOY: Sharp. I like that.
The boy walked closer, casual, like they'd known each other for years.
BOY: I'm Lucky. Grace is my sister. She's running late because she's "confirming variables" or whatever. I'm here to make sure you don't jump off the roof.
REZ: Why would I jump off the roof?
LUCKY: (shrugging) First meeting. New city. Mysterious powers. Some people panic.
Rez stared at him.
LUCKY: What? Too soon?
REZ: How do you know about my powers?
LUCKY: Grace told me. She also told me to be careful with you. Fragile ego, she said. Emerging hero, don't spook him.
REZ: She did not say that.
LUCKY: No, she didn't. But she thought it. I could tell.
Rez didn't know whether to laugh or walk away. The boy's energy was exhausting—but also, somehow, not threatening.
LUCKY: Look, I'm gonna be real with you. My sister's the brains. I'm the... let's call it field test. She finds people like you. I figure out if they're worth the trouble.
REZ: People like me?
LUCKY: Powered. Confused. Alone. The trifecta.
Rez's jaw tightened.
REZ: I'm not alone by choice.
LUCKY: I know. That's why we're here.
Grace emerged from the stairwell, slightly out of breath, a tablet in her hand.
GRACE: Lucky. What did I say about starting without me?
LUCKY: You said "don't start without me." I didn't start. We were bonding.
GRACE: (to Rez) Sorry. He's like this all the time. You never get used to it.
REZ: It's fine. I think.
Grace walked to the edge, looking out at the city. Lucky flanked her, still grinning. Rez stayed where he was, unsure of the protocol for whatever this was.
GRACE: You have questions. Start with the obvious one.
REZ: What's happening to me?
GRACE: That's not the obvious one. That's the deep one. Start smaller.
Rez thought.
REZ: How did you find me?
GRACE: Patterns. The crown energy leaves traces—not visible to most people, but I built sensors that can detect the residual frequency. You've been active three weeks. The first week, you were careful. The second week, you got sloppy. Last night, you collapsed a fire escape.
REZ: I was trying to help.
GRACE: I know. That's the only reason we're here.
LUCKY: Well, that and the fact that you're not dead yet. Most people with unstable powers don't last three weeks.
REZ: That's... comforting.
GRACE: He means it as a compliment. His social skills are underdeveloped.
LUCKY: My social skills are aggressive. There's a difference.
Rez almost smiled. Almost.
REZ: Okay. Next question. What's the crown?
Grace and Lucky exchanged a look. The first time they'd seemed uncertain.
GRACE: We don't know exactly. We've seen traces of similar energy before—archived records, old Sentinel data. But never manifesting like this. Never alive like yours.
REZ: Sentinel?
GRACE: The organization that's supposed to monitor people like us. Key word: supposed to.
LUCKY: They're like... imagine if the government made a club for superheroes, but the club was actually a surveillance program, and the snacks were really bad.
GRACE: That's surprisingly accurate.
REZ: And you're not part of them?
GRACE: We were. Briefly. It didn't take.
LUCKY: They wanted to run tests. Grace didn't like the tests. I didn't like the people running them. We left.
REZ: So now what? You just... find random powered kids and hang out on rooftops?
GRACE: Something like that.
A long pause. The wind pushed between them.
REZ: The other crown. You said you'd seen one before. What happened to them?
Grace's expression shifted—barely, but Rez caught it. A door closing.
GRACE: That's a question for another night.
LUCKY: (softer) She's not being mysterious to be annoying. It's just... not a good story.
Rez nodded. He understood not wanting to tell stories.
REZ: Fine. Then tell me what I'm supposed to do now. I can't control it. I tried tonight—broke a bunch of water bottles, almost gave myself a headache. Every time I try to help, I make things worse.
GRACE: You're pushing. Crown energy doesn't respond to force. It responds to intent.
REZ: What's the difference?
GRACE: Force is "I need this to happen." Intent is "this is what I want to happen." One is desperate. The other is focused.
LUCKY: She's better at explaining than me. My version would be "stop trying so hard, dummy."
REZ: That's... also helpful. In a different way.
LUCKY: See? We make a good team.
Grace pulled something from her pocket—a small device, like a watch but bulkier.
GRACE: This tracks crown energy fluctuations. Wear it. It'll help me understand your patterns. And it might help you recognize when you're about to spike.
Rez took it. Turned it over. It felt warm—not from the device, but from something else. Something that recognized him.
REZ: Why are you helping me?
GRACE: Because you tried to save someone. And it went wrong. And instead of giving up, you came here tonight.
LUCKY: Also because I begged her. I saw the alley footage and said "that guy looks cool, let's keep him."
GRACE: He did say that. It wasn't the deciding factor, but he said it.
Rez looked at them—this strange pair, one loud and grinning, one quiet and watching. They barely knew him. He barely knew them. And yet.
REZ: What if I can't get control?
LUCKY: Then we'll figure something else out. That's how this works. You don't do it alone.
GRACE: Assuming you want to. Work with us, I mean. No pressure. But the offer's there.
Rez looked down at the device in his palm. Then at the city below—the streets where he'd failed, the alley where he'd made things worse, the people who probably whispered about the glowing boy in the hoodie.
He thought about his moms at the dinner table. Dani's worry. Elena's steady gaze. The way they said we're here and meant it.
Maybe he didn't have to carry this alone.
REZ: Okay.
LUCKY: Okay what?
REZ: Okay, I'll try. Working with you. But if this is a trap, I'm definitely blaming you.
LUCKY: Fair. I'm very trustworthy-looking.
GRACE: He's not.
LUCKY: I'm extremely trustworthy-looking.
For the first time in weeks, Rez felt something shift in his chest. Not the crown—something else. Something lighter.
REZ: Same time tomorrow?
GRACE: We'll find you. Just keep moving. And wear the device.
LUCKY: And try not to collapse any more buildings. It's bad for your brand.
Rez turned toward the edge of the roof. The drop was forty feet to the next ledge. Three days ago, that would have terrified him.
Tonight, it felt like a starting line.
He fired a thread—smooth this time, focused—and swung into the dark.
Behind him, Lucky whistled.
LUCKY: He's got style. I'll give him that.
GRACE: He's got potential. Whether he survives long enough to use it...
LUCKY: That's why he's got us.
Grace didn't answer. But she didn't disagree.
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INT. REZ'S APARTMENT – LATER
Rez slipped through his window, quieter than usual. The device was strapped to his wrist, hidden under his sleeve. The crown mark pulsed—steady, calm, like it approved.
He sat on his bed and looked at his reflection in the dark window.
Same boy. Same hoodie. Same faint glow beneath the fabric.
But something was different.
He wasn't alone anymore.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown Number (Lucky?):
Sick swing, by the way. Very dramatic exit. 10/10.
Rez stared at the message. Then, slowly, he typed back:
Who is this?
Reply:
Your new partner in crime-fighting. Well, one of them. The handsome one.
REZ:
Lucky.
LUCKY:
The one and only. Get some sleep, crown boy. Big day tomorrow.
REZ:
What's tomorrow?
LUCKY:
Training. Real training. Try not to die before then.
Rez almost laughed. Almost.
He put the phone down and pressed his hand to his chest. The crown mark flickered gently, like a heartbeat.
You're not invisible.
No. But maybe, for the first time, that was okay.
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EXT. UNKNOWN LOCATION – SAME TIME
A dark room. Banks of screens showing city footage, energy readings, data streams. A figure sat in silhouette, watching a frozen frame—Rez mid-swing, crown energy trailing behind him like a gold comet tail.
A finger tapped the screen.
FIGURE: (quiet) Fascinating.
The footage rewound. Played again. Rewound. Played.
FIGURE: Three weeks of uncontrolled manifestation. No training. No guidance. And still alive.
Another screen flickered—a distorted waveform, audio barely intelligible.
VOICE (V.O.): Six of you will fall tonight...
The figure smiled. Not warmly.
FIGURE: Soon, Spider-Guy. Soon.
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FADE OUT.