Morning sunlight spilled over the rooftops of Los Angeles, washing the city in gold and haze. Scott Vale sat cross-legged in the small rooftop garden his father had insisted on building, the smell of damp earth and rain lingering in the air. Beside him, Kate balanced carefully on the edge, notebook in hand, observing him like a strategist preparing for a battle.
"You've been practicing this a long time in your head," Kate said softly. "Time to see what your body can do."
Scott swallowed. "What if I hurt someone?"
Kate shook her head, firm. "You won't. I'll be here. And your dad said the same thing—control, not fear. You can't hide from this forever. Orien… I mean Los Angeles… isn't going to wait for you to figure it out."
Scott glanced at his father, who leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, calm as ever. "Start small," Mr. Vale instructed. "Feel it. Sense it. Don't force it. Let it happen."
Scott nodded and took a deep breath. He focused on a small pebble in front of him. Concentrating, he imagined it moving—not with his hands, but with the pull of the energy inside him.
The pebble shivered. Then it rolled forward. Then backward. Then wobbled on the edge of the ledge.
Kate's eyes widened. "You did it… but it's… unstable."
He exhaled sharply. "Yeah… I know."
"Good. That's progress," his father said. "Control isn't about instant perfection. It's about learning to balance what's inside you. Think of it like a heartbeat—steady, rhythmic. Don't fight the power; guide it."
Scott's fingers twitched again. The pebble lifted slightly into the air, then dropped too quickly, hitting the edge of the ledge with a small crack. He winced.
Kate laughed nervously, but it was encouraging. "It's okay. That's… that's part of it. You can do this. I've seen you figure out harder stuff than this."
A small spark of confidence flickered inside him. He tried again, letting his energy flow, not forcing it, imagining it like water through a channel rather than fire through a blast. Slowly, the pebble lifted, hovered steadily, and then gently floated toward his outstretched hand.
Scott blinked. "I… I did it."
"You did it!" Kate exclaimed. "See? I told you. You just needed to… let it happen."
Mr. Vale's expression softened, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Now you're beginning to understand, Scott. Power isn't something you command with anger or fear. It responds to intention. To care. To patience."
Scott felt the weight of those words sink in. He closed his eyes, letting the energy inside him calm, steady, grow. The fear that had clawed at him since discovering his strength softened, replaced with… possibility.
For the first time, he wasn't just a boy with powers. He was someone who could control them. Someone who could use them for something bigger.
Kate nudged him. "Okay, next step… bigger challenge. You ready?"
Scott opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "Yeah. I'm ready."
And as the sun rose higher over Los Angeles, the boy from another sky—Scott Vale—took his first real steps toward becoming someone extraordinary. A protector, a hero in the making, guided by the steady hands of friendship, family, and the power within him.
By mid-afternoon, the rooftop practice felt like a warm-up. Scott's arms tingled, his heart thrummed in rhythm with the energy he was learning to control. Kate leaned on the railing, arms crossed, notebook forgotten, her eyes never leaving him.
"Alright," she said, breaking the quiet. "Enough with pebbles. Let's see if you can handle… something moving faster. Something alive."
Scott swallowed. "You mean… like an animal?"
Kate smirked. "Or a trash can rolling off a roof. Or a paper airplane… fine, fine. I'll start easy." She picked up a crumpled piece of paper and tossed it toward the edge. Scott focused, summoning the pull inside him. The paper hovered midair, spinning slowly, wobbling but not falling.
Kate's jaw dropped. "Whoa… okay, that's… that's amazing."
Scott laughed nervously. "It's not perfect!"
"No, but it's a start. You're… controlling it!" Her voice carried awe, excitement, and something else—fear. Fear that he was too powerful, too unpredictable. She bit her lip. "You need to be careful, Scott. This… it's huge. Bigger than anything you've dealt with before."
Before he could respond, a shout echoed from the street below. Scott and Kate froze. A little boy had tripped near a busy corner, scattering groceries, frozen in panic as cars honked and braked.
Scott's heart lurched. He glanced at Kate. "I… I can—"
"Do it!" she urged, voice steady but urgent. "You've got this!"
He focused. The energy inside him surged, responding like it had been waiting for this. With a thought, he extended his hands, and the groceries lifted into the air, moving gently toward the curb, out of harm's way. The boy looked around in shock, then smiled, relief washing over him.
Kate grinned, eyes wide. "See? That's why you're going to be… incredible. But also terrifying."
Scott exhaled, heart racing, sweat prickling his forehead. "I… I did it. But it feels… so different when it's real."
From the doorway behind them, Mr. Vale's voice carried calm authority. "Exactly. Real situations test more than skill. They test your judgment, your restraint. Every action has consequences. This is why control matters. You must always remember—power without responsibility can hurt people, even when your intention is good."
Scott nodded, feeling the weight of his father's words. It wasn't just about moving objects or floating pebbles. It was about people, about trust, about protecting rather than showing off.
Kate nudged him again. "Okay, superhero, one last exercise before we call it a day. Let's see how far you can push without freaking out."
Scott's eyes flicked to the streets below. The city stretched out, sprawling, alive, unpredictable. A hum of electricity seemed to run through the air, almost like Orien itself was watching, testing him.
He clenched his fists, letting the energy flow steadily. The breeze picked up. Papers, cans, and even loose signs swirled gently around him, controlled, obedient to his focus. His chest warmed, pulse steady. He was doing it—finally, fully in control.
But in the shadows across the street, behind a flickering neon sign, a figure lingered. Watching. Measuring. Silent.
Scott didn't notice it. Kate didn't notice it. His father didn't notice it.
But the watcher knew one thing: the boy from another sky was awake.
And Orien would never be the same.