4 Chapter 4

[MC POV]

° Grayson Residence, 6:00 AM

I was already in the sky, looking to all sides to take in the rounding horizons, when Mark and Dad flew up to join me.

Mark looked pretty tired with those thick eye bags on. His fault for pushing it last night, even after I advised against it.

"Morning, Dad"

"Morning, Matthew. You're here early" Dad said.

"I was excited for it, couldn't myself. I'm sure Mark is too, right Mark?"

"Shut up" Mark retorted grumpily, a slight eye bag visible under both his eyes.

"See, dad? He's absolutely ozzing with enthusiasm"

"Shut up!" Mark shouted.

"Okay, enough of that. Listen up" Dad said.

I floated myself beside Mark and kept quiet, ignoring the very obvious angry side glances.

"Flying is simple but also complicated at the start, but I guess you two already know that considering you're not falling to the street" he said.

We nodded.

"It's kinda like how you walk, you don't think about balancing anymore now. But as a baby, you did. You two are baby fliers right now. You have to focus on keeping yourselves upright, and focus on going in the direction you want to go" Dad explained.

Just as Mark was busy floating around and in random directions.

"Understand?" Dad asked him.

"Yeah, I think I got it" Mark replied.

"Dude" I palmed my face softly.

"It doesn't look like you do" Dad said, then looked at me as I kept myself in place with a bit of effort. Compared to directional movement, keeping myself in place took a surprising amount of concentration indeed.

He gave me a smile and an approving nod before looking back at Mark who managed to still himself enough.

"Follow me" he launched himself upwards and then eventually further forward.

I followed after him, Mark followed behind me. Grunting and positioning himself in the air before he got it right.

"You can wear yourself out by flying. Flying fast is like tensing a muscle. You're much better off relaxing that muscle from time to time, use the momentum you're building to carry you forward" Dad demonstrated.

So it's like driving a manual car then, constantly stepping on the accelerator increases gas consumption thus making it run out faster. I can save some strength and effort if I find a balance between the acceleration and the forward momentum build up.

I'll have to try that out when I get the time.

Mark suddenly lurched forward, overtaking Dad and me. I followed after him, and then it somehow turned into a small race to see who could go faster.

Dad caught up to us easily.

"Okay, you don't want to fall, so you're gonna have trouble relaxing. It's kinda like peeing your pants on purpose" Dad...said.

"What?" Mark asked.

Was that a dad joke or something?

"Peeing your pants on purpose" Dad repeated.

"So that wasn't a joke?" I asked.

"No. It's a metaphor, Matt. You know, you spent your whole life trying not to pee your pants. So letting go, peeing your pants on purpose, is next to impossible" Dad explained.

"What the hell..."

"H-how do you know this? And wh-who would try that!?" Mark asked.

Apparently he and I were both thinking about it too. Did Dad actually pee his pants on purpose before?

"Uh...Ignore the metaphor. I got confused" Dad admitted.

Oh, I sense an embarrassing childhood story. But as usual, he decided not to share about it. Not really a man to reminisce, Dad.

"You two are far better at flying than you should be. How long did you practice last night?" Dad asked.

Oh, changing subjects now? This might just be a really embarassing story.

"Don't try and change the subject!" Mark, trying to change the subject.

Dad shook his head and smiled, then told us "Land there". Pointing at an empty grass field just below.

Changing directions towards the area, I slowly decreased my speed while maintaining a level of control so as to not fall on my face. All while following Dad's example.

And while I did manage it somehow, Mark wasn't so lucky.

Instead of slowing down, he was accelerating downwards. Picking up even more speed as he got closer and closer to the ground.

"Slow down" Dad told him.

Mark didnt seem to hear it.

"Land. I said, land! Why aren't you slowing down?" Dad quickly added.

"Mark, slow down man" I flew to his side and talked him into doing it.

"I can't!" Mark replied, clearly panicking now.

"Stop, just stop!!" Dad continued to say.

But Mark accelerated even more, going fast enough out of my reach and slamming himself straight into the ground.

Making quite an impact, creating a large crater and dust cloud with him in the middle of it.

I flew over it, a bit worried, but I was reminded on how Viltrumite bodies are very durable. Mark was fine. Full of dirt and sand, but otherwise fine.

"Way to stick the landing, Mark" I laughed.

Dad floated to my side, "Okay. I guess that still counts as a landing".

"It does?" I laughed even more.

"Get up. Come on, we'll try something else" Dad said.

Mark got himself up and started patting the dirt and dust away from his clothes.

"I'm actually getting used to this" Mark said.

"To landing on your face instead of your feet?" I chuckled.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not that painful" Mark surprisingly replied.

"So what? You're telling me you already crashed a few times last night?" I asked.

"...Kinda" Mark answered as he looked away.

Wow, that's some dedication right there.

"That's not good" Dad said, looking at us blankly. Thinking of something else, clearly.

He put his hands over both our shoulders and said "Try to hit me".

"Really?" Mark asked.

"What for?" I asked.

"Yeah. If you want to learn the full extent of your powers and refine your control over them quickly, then you need to learn how to fight. Starting with how you throw a punch" he explained.

I was about to say that I already know how, but realized that I was not used or even just tried fighting with Super-Strength yet. I guess I do need to learn that now, especially if I want to keep my job at the Dojo.

Might accidentally kill someone if I don't get used to adjusting my strength properly at times.

"Okay" I answered.

Dad smiled.

Mark was the first to attack, throwing a simple punch towards dad that was easy for him to dodge. It was honestly...quite pathetic really.

My turn.

Launching myself forward, I delivered a swift high kick towards his head. Dad was quick though, his hand easily catching the back of my foot which he used to literally throw off to the side.

He didn't even hold back, the force he used to throw me to the ground hard enough to bury me deep in dirt and rock. Or it would've if I didnt manage to catch myself in the air.

"Good Technique, just do it harder next time if you want to make a difference" Dad said.

"Yeah, Dad. Thanks"

I watched as Mark attacked again, dishing out another series of punches towards Dad.

"You can punch with just your arm, but if you punch with your shoulders, your hips, and your legs as well, it will be much more powerful. It'll take a while to get used to it" Dad said.

"Okay" Mark nodded.

"Now with us, we can freely move ourselves through physical space. That's how we fly. So we don't need to pivot on our feet and push of the ground" Dad floated upwards, zigzaging around without pivoting.

"We can push off anything. We can create our own leverage" he continued.

I already knew that, parts of it at least. His explanation filled in a few things that proved my assumptions.

But to demonstrate, I went in for another attack. Dashing forward as if kicking of the air and punching towards Dad, he dodged of course, and my fist simply slammed into the ground. Destroying on the soil.

"Good. But if you were going for maximum force, you should put more distance between you and your target. Let gravity make your blows heavier, don't worry about anything else. Our bodies can handle it" Dad advised.

I nodded.

Mark floated off the ground rather smoothly now and attacked him again, Dad parried those blows easily but the sound it made definitely hinted at the new sense of power in Mark's punches.

"Good, Mark. But try it a little more like this" Dad readied his fist.

"Like what?" Mark asked blankly.

And then Dad punch Mark to the chest. The impact was so loud that even I could hear it from where I was floating.

"Dad! What the hell?!" I shouted, catching Mark as he struggled to deal with the pain and the sudden loss of breath.

As I looked into my father's eyes, confused and looking for an explanation, I saw a glimpse of something I didn't expect at all.

I wasn't me anymore. I was in another body, one taller and more muscular than what I was used to.

In front of me stood an unfamiliar person, a black-skinned man wearing an all white suit of some kind. His fist was bloody, a trail of it connected to my face. I was in some kind of glass room with about 5 or 7 other people standing outside the glass, all wearing the same white suit and seemingly watching me with cold eyes.

A moment later and the sight changed.

The once clean glass now had splatters of blood and bits of guts all around it, and a destroyed mass of organs below me. Feelings of dread of defeat and loss washed over me, as well as a great sense of self disappointment.

Then, for a second time, the scene changed.

A view of a pair of healthy, happy boys in my arms. One looked strangely fuzzy, like it was slowly coming to focus, while the other was clearly Mark.

Then I was back, still looking into Dad's eyes as I held Mark in my arms. Who was gasping in pain and breath.

Whatever that was, whatever those 'visions' were couldnt take front stage in my mind for now. I was too angry for it.

My anger at the sight got the better of me as I took off towards Dad, turning at the last second to deliver a full-powered kick. Super-Strength and Martial Arts training piled on behind it.

But it wasn't enough. Dad simply let the kick land on his forearm as he gave me a stone cold stare.

I didn't even realize that I was expecting the kick to go through before I swung around and aimed another kick straight towards his chest, moving in a practiced manner as I always did in the Dojo.

But still it was useless.

Dad took the kick to the chest without even flinching. I felt him only slightly shift from the impact, but that was it.

He greeted me with another stern look, "I see your training in that Dojo is paying off. Barely".

Without warning, he grabbed my forearm and flung me over his back. The force of his throw was so strong that I was unable to reorient myself until I was flung a good 10 or 8 meters away, catching myself in the air.

I went for another attack, but was quickly startled to realize that he was already in front of me. His right arm primed for a punch.

By sheer instinct alone, I managed to catch the fist by blocking with both forearms raided and then quickly retaliated with a straight punch to the side of his face. The blow stung my skin, and I was pretty sure that it'll hurt for much longer.

Dad wasn't holding back at all.

A long developed danger I learned from practicing was useless as it disappeared from my view. His presence revealed a moment later when I felt an iron grip clasp unto the back of my neck.

"Your training is lacking. You must never let an opponent get behind you" I heard him say.

"Easy for you to say" I gripped the fingers, trying to grab as much as I could and used my strength to pull them off. When the hold lessened enough, I quickly bent forward. Escaping from the grip and spun around to deliver another blow. Aiming for the eyes this time.

But, unsurprisingly, Dad was no longer in range as he floated away from reach.

He looked to be in the beginnings of another display of strength when he suddenly stopped himself, his expression loosening as he turned to look behind him.

Mark sat on the ground not far behind, his breathing looking calm and his expression severe.

Dad then turned to me and sighed.

"Looks like I got a bit carried away there" he said.

"Gee, Dad. You think so?" I rubbed the back of my forearms, soothing the stinging pain.

"You hurt me" Mark said, his voice rasping and haggard.

Dad floated close to Mark, landing by his side and putting a hand on his shoulders in an attempt to soothe. However that worked.

"I know, son. I-I didn't mean to hit you so hard. Either of you. I'm sorry" he said, giving me a glance as well.

I floated closer to them, still soothing my forearms, but feeling a little better after the apology. Only by a small bit.

"Why--" Mark stopped as he coughed, but his following words were easy enough to predict.

"I think what Mark was trying to say was 'why did you do that', Dad. And I'd like to know as well" I said.

Dad gave us both a severe look "If you boys really wanna do what I do, then you need to be prepared for everything. No one is gonna pull their punches"

I stayed quiet as I couldn't really get myself to argue against his words.

I was strong, but not the strongest. As proven by the earlier fight by Dad himself. I might be getting cocky with the sudden superhuman strength I got, so this experience was a good one to humble myself.

Mark stayed silent as well, but I could tell that his reasoning leaned more on stubborn anger at the realization of his own shortcomings. At least, that's what I assume.

But that pretty much ended our 'morning practice' as there wasn't enough time before we went to school.

The three of us flew home in silence, the awkward atmosphere was quite palpable. It continued as we arrived.

Mark quietly entered and made a beeline for the second floor. I stopped by the stairs just to give mom a short smile as I followed him. Mark shut his door as I passed through it. Clearly he was quite upset.

I stopped just outside my room when I heard Dad's voice suddenly heightened.

"Are you questioning me?!" he shouted.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Mom fiercely replied.

There he goes again, suddenly so high-strung out of nowhere. I knew it was not good to listen in, but I couldn't help myself. My feet literally wouldn't move from the spot.

I heard Dad sigh, "I don't know. I...I'm sorry".

"Mark and Matthew got their powers so late, I wasn't prepared for this. It...changes things" he then said.

The pause was worrying. Did our power awakening really change so much?

Mom stayed quiet, seemingly letting Dad get his full explanation out.

"I can't help but think, maybe our lives would be better if they hadn't gotten them at all"