I never wanted to be a criminal. But when the hospitals said they’d operate on Mom only if we paid $2 million upfront, crime became the only math that added up.

I’m Connor Reed—an Electric, which means I can channel lightning through my hands. In the old days, that made me valuable. Now, it just makes me a target. The city’s built on Powers like me, but the machines took our jobs. The government wants to ban us. And the Trust? They’re selling our spinal fluid as a drug.

Tonight, I’m breaking into a chemical plant with Garrett and his crew. He says it’s just a smash-and-grab. But when I fry the security fence with a surge that lights up the sky, he looks at me like I’m a weapon he can finally use.

‘You’re stronger than you think,’ he says, clapping my shoulder. ‘We’re gonna make real money.’

I glance at the sky. Another drone buzzes overhead—Guardians scanning for unregistered Powers. One slip, and I’m in a cell. Or worse, on an operating table.

My phone buzzes. The hospital. Mom’s vitals are dropping.

Garrett sees my face. ‘We do this,’ he says, ‘we get her treatment. No more waiting.’

I look at the warehouse. At the drones. At my hands, still crackling with residual energy.

This is the only way.