Orion's Rise: From Zero to Hero in Two Worlds

Secondhand Embarrassment, Firsthand Power

I didn't want to be the voice of reason. Not today. But watching Ben march toward those glass doors with his shoulders squared and chin up, I could already feel the secondhand embarrassment creeping in.

"This isn't going to work," I muttered, trailing behind him like a shadow. The slouch I'd been trying to fix all semester came back automatically, my body's natural defense against attention.

Ben adjusted his glasses, catching the afternoon sun. The ginger hair he refused to cut made him look even younger than seventeen, but try telling him that.

"It's going to work," he said, with the kind of confidence that usually preceded disaster. "You just have to act like you belong."

"In the eighteen-plus section?"

"They can't card us for energy drinks. That's not even a real law."

"Then why'd they make a separate section?"

He waved off my logic like it was an annoying fly. "Corporate nonsense. Come on."

The automatic doors slid open with a hiss that felt way too loud. My heart was already doing that stupid flutter thing, the same feeling I'd had right before... no. Don't think about that. Don't think about anything that happened yesterday. About powers or guides or—

"Dude." Ben's voice snapped me back. "You're doing the thing again."

"What thing?"

"The thing where you space out and look like you're about to throw up."

I forced my face to relax. "I'm not doing a thing."

"You've been doing the thing all day." He grabbed a basket we definitely didn't need. "What's up with you lately?"

*Oh, you know, just discovered I have telekinetic powers after almost getting jumped. Had a chat with a voice in my head. Might be part of some bigger conspiracy. The usual.*

"Nothing," I said instead. "Just... tired."

Ben shot me a look that said he wasn't buying it, but he didn't push. That was the thing about Ben – he knew when to back off. It's why we'd been best friends since sixth grade, when he'd found me hiding in the library during lunch and just... sat down. Started talking about comics like we'd known each other forever.

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as we made our way through the aisles. Each step toward the energy drink section felt like walking toward a principal's office. My palms were sweating. Why were my palms sweating? It's not like anyone could tell about... about what happened. The interface hadn't even appeared since—

"Good afternoon, gentlemen."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. The cashier – a woman with gray hair and knowing eyes – was suddenly right there, organizing a display.

"Afternoon," Ben replied smoothly. Too smoothly. "Just browsing."

She smiled the smile of someone who'd seen this exact scene play out a hundred times. "The candy aisle is that way." She pointed in the opposite direction of where we were heading.

"Actually," Ben raised his chin slightly. "We're looking for the energy drinks."

"The new section?" Her eyebrows went up. "The eighteen-plus section?"

"Yes ma'am."

I wanted to melt into the floor. Ben was using his "adult" voice, the one he practiced in the mirror. I could feel the tips of my ears burning.

"Really?" She looked between us. "And you're both eighteen?"

"Nineteen, actually," Ben said, and I had to stop myself from cringing. "We're college students."

Never mind that we were wearing our high school's drama club t-shirts. From this year's production.

The cashier's smile widened. "That's wonderful. Which college?"

Ben's confidence wavered for the first time. "Uh, the local one."

"Riverview Community College?"

"...Yes?"

"Oh, what a coincidence! My son teaches there. Professor Matthews? Drama department?"

I watched Ben's face go white. I had to bite my cheek raw to hold back my laughter. Because of course – *of course* – she'd pick the one department connected to our very obvious t-shirts.

"We... haven't had him yet," Ben managed.

"Strange," she said, eyes twinkling. "Since he's the only drama professor. And has been for ten years."

The silence that followed was beautiful in its awkwardness. I counted three ceiling tiles before Ben's shoulders finally slumped.

"Right," he said, dropping the adult voice. "We'll just... go find that candy aisle."

"Wonderful choice." She beamed at us. "The gummy bears are on sale."

We made our strategic retreat, the basket abandoned by a display of chips. The automatic doors hissed again as we escaped into the afternoon sun.

"Well," I said, once we were safely out of earshot. "That went exactly as expected."

"Shut up." But Ben was grinning. "How was I supposed to know she had a son in college?"

"Maybe the same way she knew we weren't nineteen?"

"You know what your problem is?" He fell into step beside me as we headed toward his house. "You lack vision."

"Pretty sure my problem is having a best friend who thinks he can talk his way into anything."

"Hey, it works sometimes."

"Name one time."

"Remember when I got us into that R-rated movie?"

"You mean when your sister bought our tickets and we pretended to be meeting her inside?"

"Still counts."

I shook my head, but I was smiling. For a moment, everything felt normal. Just two guys walking home after another failed Ben scheme. No powers. No mysterious warnings. No—

"Seriously though," Ben's voice dropped slightly. "What's going on with you? You've been weird since yesterday."

My stomach clenched. This was it. The moment I'd been dreading and planning for all day. Because if I was going to tell anyone about what happened, it had to be Ben.

But how do you tell your best friend that... everything they think they know about the world is wrong?

"Actually," I said, my mouth dry. "There is something I need to show you."

---

Ben's backyard wasn't much. Just a square of patchy grass surrounded by a wooden fence that had seen better days. But right now, it felt like a stage. And I was about to put on the weirdest show of my life.

"Okay," Ben said, leaning against the fence. "What's so important that we had to come straight here? We're missing your mom's lasagna."

*Food.*

At the word 'food', my stomach twisted painfully. After what happened yesterday? Eating had been the last thing on my mind.

*Since everything changed.*

"You, uh..." I wiped my palms on my jeans. "You remember what happened with Jared?"

Ben's expression darkened. "Yeah. Heard he was asking about you today. Him and his whole crew disappeared during lunch period yesterday. No one knows what happened."

*I know what happened.*

"Right." I swallowed hard. "About that..."

The interface flickered in my vision for a split second – just long enough to send my heart racing. I forced myself to breathe. To focus.

"Dude, you're spacing out again." Ben said quietly.

"What?"

"You keep looking at something that isn't there."

*If you only knew.*

"Ben." I met his eyes. Tried to keep my voice steady. "What if I told you something... impossible?"

He pushed his glasses up, studying me. The late afternoon sun caught his ginger hair. It made it look like it was on fire.

"Define impossible."

"Like..." I looked around, making sure we were alone. The Guide's warning echoed in my head: *They're watching.* "Like something that changes everything we think we know about... about what's possible."

Ben straightened up. The humor faded from his face, replaced by something I'd rarely seen there – genuine concern.

"Orion." He took a step forward. "Are you okay? Like, really okay? Because you're starting to freak me out."

"I'm not—" I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. "I'm trying to tell you something important... and I don't know how."

"Just say it."

"It's not that simple."

"Yeah, it is." He crossed his arms. "Whatever it is, just tell me. We've known each other since what, sixth grade? You really think there's anything you could say that would—"

"I have powers."

The words spilled out before I could stop them, floating between us like smoke.

Ben blinked. "What?"

"Powers." My voice cracked. "Like... like in the comics we used to read. Only real."

Silence. The kind that makes your skin crawl.

"Okay..." Ben said slowly. "Is this like that time in eighth grade when you convinced yourself you were psychic because you dreamed about that math test?"

"This is different." The frustration built in my chest. "This is real."

"Real," he repeated. "Like... superhero real?"

"More like..." I struggled to find the words. "More like terrifying real. Like wake-up-in-an-alley-with-a-voice-in-your-head real."

Ben's eyebrows shot up. "A voice in your—"

"I know how it sounds." I started pacing, the words tumbling out now that I'd started. "I know it sounds crazy. But yesterday, when Jared and his friends cornered me? Something happened. Something... impossible."

"What exactly happened?"

I stopped pacing. Looked at him. "I threw them. All of them. Without touching them."

Ben went quiet, studying me. I watched his face change – confused, then disbelieving, then concerned – before his features settled into something I couldn't quite name.

"Show me."

The words weren't what I expected. Not accusations of lying. Not suggestions to see a therapist. Just... show me.

"You..." I hesitated. "You want proof?"

He tried for nonchalant with that shrug, but his eyes gave him away behind his glasses. "If what you're saying is true, then yeah. I want to see it."

The Guide's voice whispered in my mind: *You're not alone.*

But I was alone. Unless...

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "Okay. But... you can't freak out."

"Dude, If you could inhale an entire pizza into a five-minute disappearing last week? NOTHING you do can freak me out anymore."

A laugh bubbled up, unexpected and shaky. Leave it to good 'ol Ben to make jokes when my whole world was falling apart.

"Just..." I glanced around one more time. "Promise me something?"

"What?"

"Promise me you won't..." I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "Promise you won't look at me different. After."

Ben's expression softened. "Orion." He stepped forward, put a hand on my shoulder. "You're my best friend man. Whatever this is? We'll figure it out. Together."

The simple certainty in his voice made my eyes burn. Because that's who Ben was – the guy who sat with me at lunch when no one else would. Who helped me pass Biology. Who never questioned why I needed to hide in the library sometimes.

"Okay." I squared my shoulders. "Watch this."

And praying I wasn't about to ruin the best friendship I'd ever had, I reached for the power humming beneath my skin.

---

The autumn sun hung low in the sky, painting long shadows across Ben's backyard. It was that strange hour – not quite afternoon, not quite evening – when the light turns everything golden.

I spotted a chunk of concrete near the fence, probably left over from Ben's dad's endless home improvement projects. It would do.

"That rock," I said, pointing. "Watch the rock."

Ben's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "What about it?"

"Just... watch."

I took a deep breath, reaching for that humming beneath my skin. The interface flickered to life, numbers and readings dancing at the edges of my vision. But this time, I didn't fight it. Didn't panic.

*Focus,* I told myself. *Like before.*

The energy was there, waiting. Not the violent surge from yesterday, but something... calmer. More controlled. Like a river instead of a flood.

The rock shifted.

Ben's breath caught. "Did you—"

"Shh." I raised my hand slowly, palm facing the concrete. The interface readings spiked, but stayed in the safe zone. Green numbers, not red.

The rock lifted.

Just a few inches at first, hovering unsteadily. But it was enough. Ben's face went slack, his usual wit deserting him as he watched a piece of concrete defy gravity.

"Holy..." he whispered.

I flexed my fingers, testing the connection. The rock responded, rising higher. Six inches. A foot. The effort made my head buzz, but not unpleasantly. More like the caffeine rush from those energy drinks we couldn't buy.

"This is..." Ben stepped closer, adjusting his glasses like they might be playing tricks on him. "This is real. You're actually..."

"Yeah." The rock wobbled slightly as my concentration wavered. "Real."

He circled the floating concrete, examining it from all angles. The scientist in him taking over.

"How does it feel?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "When you do it?"

"Like..." I searched for the words. "Like electricity. But not painful. More like... like when your foot falls asleep, but reverse? And all over?"

"That makes absolutely no sense."

"I know."

He reached out toward the rock, then hesitated. "Can I...?"

I nodded. He poked it with one finger, then jerked back like it might bite him.

"It's cold," he said, sounding surprised. "I thought it would be... I don't know. Vibrating? Glowing?"

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Are you kidding?" The grin that spread across his face was pure Ben – equal parts excitement and terrible ideas. "This is the coolest thing that's ever happened!"

His optimism was contagious. Here I was panicking about becoming some kind of freak, and Ben was acting like I'd just won a superhero lottery.

"Wait." He straightened suddenly. "Yesterday. With Jared. Did you...?"

I lowered the rock gently back to the ground. The interface dimmed but didn't disappear completely.

"Yeah." I wiped my palms on my jeans again. "But that was different. I couldn't control it. It just... happened."

"How many of them?"

"Seven."

His eyes widened. "Seven? At once?"

I nodded.

"Dude." He ran a hand through his hair. "That's why they've been acting so weird today. They probably think... I mean, they must have..."

"They probably think they hallucinated it," I finished. "Or they're too freaked out to talk about it."

"Can you..." He gestured vaguely. "Can you do that again? Like, with something bigger?"

Warning bells went off in my head. The Guide's voice: *The system has protocols.*

"I don't know if that's a good idea." I glanced at the interface readings. Still green, but... "Last time I pushed too hard, I passed out."

"Passed out?" Ben's excitement dimmed slightly. "When?"

"After. In the alley." I didn't mention the void. The conversation with the Guide. Some things were too weird, even for this.

But Ben was already thinking, his brain working in that way that usually led to either brilliance or disaster.

"Okay, so we start small," he said. "Test the limits. Figure out how it works."

"We?"

"Well, yeah." He looked at me like I was being slow. "You think I'm letting you figure out superhero powers by yourself? What kind of best friend would I be?"

Something tight in my chest loosened. That was just how Ben operated – taking the impossible and making it seem manageable. Breaking it down into problems we could solve.

"Besides," he added, grinning. "Someone's got to document this. For science."

I groaned. "You're not turning me into a research project."

"Too late." He was already pulling out his phone. "Now, try the rock again. But this time, see if you can make it spin."

The sun dipped lower, casting our shadows longer across the yard. And as I reached for the power again, I realized something: for the first time since yesterday, I didn't feel alone.

I had Ben. Maybe that would be enough.

The rock rose again, steadier this time. And as it began to rotate slowly in the air, Ben's excited whisper carried on the evening breeze:

"This is going to be *awesome*."

If only I'd known then how wrong he was.

---

It was well after dark before I dragged myself home.

My room was cave of shadows, but I didn't bother with the lights. I stumbled through the darkness of my bedroom, letting myself fall onto the mattress.

I just needed to lie here, studying my hands in the weak light that spilled in from the street, trying to make sense of everything.

Normal hands. Regular teenage hands that, a day ago, couldn't lift anything heavier than my backpack.

Now...

The interface flickered to life, as if responding to my thoughts. The readings were lower than before – tired, maybe. Like the power needed to recharge.

My phone buzzed.

Ben: *Dude. I still can't believe it. My best friend's a superhero.*

I smiled despite myself.

Me: *Not a superhero. Just a freak with weird powers.*

Ben: *Same thing. Pretty sure that's like, the origin story of every X-Men ever.*

Me: *Pretty sure most X-Men don't pass out in alleys.*

Ben: *Yet. Give it time. We just need to practice more.*

We. The word made something warm settle in my chest. Because, true to form, Ben – jumping headfirst into my chaos without hesitation.

Another buzz.

Ben: *Besides, you didn't pass out this time. Progress!*

Me: *Probably because I didn't try throwing anyone across a yard.*

Ben: *Tomorrow? 👀*

I stared at the message. Tomorrow. Like this was just another thing we'd do after school. Like practicing powers was no different from studying for a test or playing video games.

The Guide's warning echoed: *They're watching.*

Me: *Maybe. Need to be careful though.*

Ben: *Always am.*

I snorted. Benjamin Tanks had never been careful a day in his life.

Me: *Sure. Like that time you tried to skateboard off your roof?*

Ben: *That would've worked if the physics had been right.*

Me: *Physics was fine. Your math was wrong.*

Ben: *Details.*

I set the phone down, letting my head fall back against the wall. The interface pulsed softly, numbers shifting. Monitoring something. Always monitoring.

*You're not alone.*

The Guide's words came back, carrying new weight now. I wasn't alone – I had Ben. But that wasn't what the Guide had meant, was it?

*There are others.*

My phone demanded attention with another buzz. I closed my eyes, pretending I couldn't feel it at all. Just watched the interface readings scroll past, trying to make sense of it all. Others like me. Being watched. But by who?

---

Across town, in an office that didn't officially exist, a monitor cast blue light across an expensive desk.

"Interesting."

Howard Voss – though very few people knew to call him that – studied the footage playing on his screen. The quality was exceptional, catching every detail of two teenagers in a backyard. Every gesture. Every floating rock.

"The friend complicates things."

The voice came from the shadows behind him. Female. Ageless. She stepped forward, her suit as dark as the corner she'd emerged from.

"The friend makes it perfect." Howard's fingers tapped a rhythm on his desk. "Support systems make them predictable. Easier to control."

The woman's lip curled slightly. "Like your son?"

"Jared served his purpose." Howard didn't look away from the screen. "The activation sequence required a catalyst. Trauma is reliable that way."

"And now?"

"Now..." He paused the footage on a frame of the boy – Orion – with his hand raised. The rock hovering at eye level. "Now we observe. Monitor his development."

"For how long?"

Howard smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.

"Until he's ready."

"And if the friend becomes a problem?"

"Then we remove the problem." Howard's voice was calm. Like discussing the weather. "But I don't think it will come to that. Benjamin Tanks might prove useful."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Because the best way to control someone..." Howard resumed the footage, watching Ben's excited gestures, Orion's cautious smile. "Is to give them something to lose."

On the screen, a rock spun slowly in the golden light of evening. And in the darkness of an office that didn't exist, plans that had been in motion for years shifted to account for an unexpected variable:

The power of friendship.

How... inconvenient.