Mutated Genes?

Thanks to Elizabeth's assistance, Michael managed to fill out his form. However, in exchange, he was bombarded with a barrage of nonsensical information she had eagerly shared. It was an overload of useless details that he had no business knowing, leading him to conclude that Elizabeth was an oversharer.

Observing her excitement, Michael worried that she might have misunderstood their brief interaction as an invitation for friendship. While he didn't see her as a friend, it was evident that Elizabeth viewed him differently.

Michael eagerly awaited the moment when this ordeal would be over. He was eager to discover what fate had in store for him. Standing between him and his destiny was a machine, ready to pass judgment.

As participants stepped into the machine, it emitted a single beep for most, indicating they possessed powers. Those who heard the machine beep twice were left disappointed, as it meant they didn't have the genes that made them 'special', with no chance of a refund.

They were escorted out instead, and Michael was sure this fate awaited him. There was no way he was special; otherwise, the universe wouldn't have burdened him with such a difficult upbringing.

As Elizabeth confidently walked through the machine, it emitted a single beep, confirming she possessed mutated genes. Now, it was Michael's turn. Resigned to whatever outcome lay ahead, he took a step forward, then another, with his eyes tightly shut. To his astonishment, the machine beeped just once. The person operating the machine appeared genuinely surprised, a reaction distinct from the indifference shown to the others. Despite this, Michael didn't dare test his luck. He swiftly moved on, making way for the next person to pass through.

"Why do you look like you didn't know you would pass…" Elizabeth asked, pausing momentarily before glancing left and right as if to ensure no one overheard her question.

"Don't tell me you didn't even know you had powers?" Elizabeth whispered, picking up on the look of surprise on his face. Michael swiftly composed himself, not wanting to reveal too much.

"I tried to blow up his brain; I was surprised it didn't work," Michael responded, attempting to salvage his dignity with a hint of humor.

"Hahaha! You're funny, Michael, but we don't manifest our powers until we're eighteen," Elizabeth clarified, noticing Michael's evident confusion.

"What do you mean by eighteen? I thought that was just a story," Michael inquired, genuinely puzzled, and Elizabeth couldn't help but giggle once more.

"You really don't know anything, Michael, but as your friend, I will explain everything, so fear not!" Elizabeth's upbeat attitude remained unwavering. Over time, Michael had grown accustomed to it, and it no longer bothered him as much.

"We manifest our powers when we reach adulthood, and that's when we discover what we can do and what powers we possess. I'm turning eighteen in two days, which is partly why I'm here." Elizabeth casually slipped in the information. Once again, information that Michael had no business knowing.

"So it is true? Does that mean I will manifest my powers on my birthday!?" Michael asked, a rare hint of excitement in his voice.

"Yes, you will get your powers then, and your life will change depending on your power. There are a lot of useless powers out there. Let's just hope neither of us gets one of those," Elizabeth remarked, shuddering at the mere thought. The idea of having a power that diminished her status instead of elevating it was unsettling.

Still processing the revelation that he had powers, Michael couldn't shake the feeling that the machine might have malfunctioned, explaining the surprised look on the person overseeing it.

But in the grand scheme of things, did it even matter? Michael had successfully passed that stage and was now one step closer to realizing his dream. The money he stole to be here seemed well spent, as he was about to witness superpowers for the first time. However, the audition was an exclusive affair, with each individual being ushered into a room the moment their name was called. The closer it got to Michael's turn, the more unease he felt creeping in.

"Elizabeth Watson, please step forward," a lady called out, her head appearing from the just-opened door. Since nobody exited the room before, it was assumed there must be another exit inside.

"Wish me good luck!" Elizabeth said, as she and Michael gave her a thumbs-up and a supportive smile. Michael couldn't envision himself connecting with anyone other than Edward. Edward knew everything about him and accepted him despite the demons that haunted his mind. Michael doubted that anyone else would understand or give him a chance if they knew the darkness he harbored within.

Seconds dragged on like hours as Michael realized he was next in line to enter. His forehead beaded with sweat, anxiety coursing through his body. Suddenly, the door swung open once more, and the lady called out his name, causing a surge of nervousness to explode to the surface.

"Michael, please step forward," the lady's voice beckoned. Michael entered the room, his heart sinking as he felt his legs quiver with each step.

His eyes scanned the room, taking in the posters of infamous supervillains that adorned the walls—figures who had been erased from history and made an example for the heroes of the country. The opulent marble flooring and the exquisite oak wood table added to the room's intimidating atmosphere.

Seated behind the table was a man donning the most expensive attire Michael had ever laid eyes on.

"Hello Michael, I'm James Moore. Let's begin," the man introduced himself, his golden eyes exuding a daunting aura. Michael couldn't help but feel paralyzed, Michael's gaze darting around the room, yet finding no other exit.

Though he registered the lack of an additional door, Michael quickly dismissed the thought; it was irrelevant at the moment.

"What is your power, Michael?" James inquired, his silky black hair swaying gracefully due to the fan.

"I can read minds," Michael blurted out without thinking, and he noticed James tick something on his clipboard.

"Please demonstrate," James said, giving Michael his full attention.

"That's the thing, I can only read my mind," Michael replied with a big, goofy smile. He had heard this joke somewhere before and thought it might lighten the tense atmosphere. However, the look on James' face displayed utter disappointment, and he couldn't hide his disgust.

After an awkward silence, James couldn't contain his frustration.

"Are you a retard?" he blurted out rudely.