Bubble Boy

The halls of Nightingale Academy were never quiet, but today, they were practically buzzing with energy. Students clustered in groups, their voices hushed yet excited as they stole glances at the four battered figures walking through the front entrance.

Carter greeted people like it was just another day, flashing his usual laid-back smirk. Jackson strode beside him, radiating the same overwhelming presence that made him the undisputed king of the school. Emily, as always, walked next to Jackson, her sharp gaze daring anyone to comment.

Then there was Troy.

Bandaged, bruised, and looking completely out of place, he trudged behind them, shoulders stiff. Unlike the others, who carried their injuries like battle scars, Troy looked... wrecked. And everyone noticed.

"Dude, what the hell happened to them?"

"That's Inferno, right? And Psion? And Umbra?"

"Wait, is that Bubble Boy?"

Speculation spread like wildfire. The Bubble Crew was no longer just a rumor. The bruises, the injuries, the sheer state they were in, this was proof that they weren't just some urban legend.

"Damn, did they fight Gladiator or something?" one student muttered.

"I heard they ran into a gang and wrecked them," another whispered.

"Or maybe they got wrecked?" a girl pointed out, eyeing Troy's sorry state.

And then, of course, there was the latest piece of gossip swirling through the school like a storm.

"Yo, did you hear about Garden Girl?"

That caught Troy's attention. He looked up just as two students passed by, deep in conversation.

"Yeah, she's, like, brand new. Just started posting vids last night."

"Total newbie, though. She looks so nervous in her fights."

"But she's trying, y'know? People are saying she's inspired by Bubble Boy."

Troy blinked. Bubble Boy?

"Great," he muttered under his breath. "Now there's a rookie out there."

Jackson side-eyed him. "What, jealous?"

Troy scoffed. "Hardly. Just wondering if she's gonna get herself killed."

Emily hummed. "She does look kinda inexperienced... but she's got guts."

Carter smirked. "Sounds like someone else I know."

Troy sighed, rubbing his temples. The last thing he needed was another vigilante getting involved.

But deep down?

A small part of him was curious.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the city, a tower of steel and glass loomed over everything ,the headquarters of the Legion.

Inside a vast, high-tech conference room, a group of figures sat around a circular table. Some leaned back in their chairs, uninterested. Others sat forward, eyes sharp.

At the head of the table, a man radiating sheer power lounged with a smirk. His golden emblem gleamed under the artificial lights, his piercing gaze scanning the room.

Starman.

He was the greatest hero. The symbol of peace. The strongest being alive.

And he was pleased.

Bolt leaned forward, grinning as he slid a holo-screen across the table. A picture popped up, Troy's broken form, battered and beaten.

"Mission complete," Construct added smugly.

Starman's smirk widened. He studied the image for a moment, then nodded.

"Well done."

Bolt and Construct beamed. Praise from him was rare.

Then, a voice cut through the room like a blade.

"Why don't we just kill him?"

The room fell silent.

All eyes turned to Gladiator, her fingers tapping against her sword's hilt. She didn't look nervous, she never did but there was an edge to her voice.

"He's causing too many problems," she continued. "Every time we take him down, he just gets back up. And now? Now we've got rookies running around thinking they can do the same. If we end him now, it'll send a message..."

She stopped.

Because Starman was staring at her.

The air shifted.

The once relaxed atmosphere turned suffocating as an unseen pressure filled the room.

Gladiator wasn't afraid of much. She enjoyed the thrill of battle, the rush of cutting down enemies. But this?

This was different.

Starman's gaze wasn't angry. It wasn't furious.

It was calm.

And that was worse.

He drummed his fingers against the table once… twice… then finally spoke.

"No."

The tension snapped like a whip.

Gladiator swallowed, gripping her sword just a bit tighter. She knew what that meant.

She had overstepped.

And Starman didn't like that.

Still, his expression remained composed. He leaned back, voice smooth.

"We let him squirm. Let's see what he does now."

Bolt chuckled. "Oh, he'll be real fun to break next time."

Construct smirked. "Assuming there is a next time."

The room relaxed once more. Conversation resumed, the meeting continuing like nothing had happened.

But Gladiator?

She didn't say another word.

Because if there was one rule in the Legion, one undeniable truth...

You do not question Starman.

Troy couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him as he walked through the hallways of Nightingale Academy. The usual routine of dodging sneers and whispers barely registered. His mind was elsewhere.

Annie wasn't here.

For the second day in a row, her seat in class remained empty. No texts, no calls, nothing.

He tried to convince himself it was fine. Maybe she was sick. Maybe she needed space.

But deep down, he knew better.

After school, as he stepped outside, the thought of going home gnawed at him. Instead, his feet carried him to a familiar place.

Jace raised an eyebrow the moment Troy stepped inside his underground base.

"Okay, first of all, what the hell happened to you?"

Troy sighed, running a hand through his hair as he plopped onto the nearest chair. "Skipped training yesterday."

Jace crossed his arms. "Yeah, I noticed. And?"

Troy exhaled, wincing as his bruised ribs protested. "Bolt and Construct. Starman sent them to 'teach me a lesson.'"

Jace's eyes widened slightly, but his expression quickly hardened. "And you're still alive?"

"Barely."

Jace sat down, rubbing his chin. "You do realize what this means, right? Starman's got his eyes on you. You keep pissing him off, and next time, he won't send those two. He'll send someone worse."

Troy knew that. He'd known that since the second Bolt's fist hit his face. But he wasn't going to stop.

Jace studied him for a moment before shaking his head. "Alright. We'll just have to make sure next time, you hit back harder."

Troy smirked. "You mean I dodge harder."

Jace grinned. "That too. Now, get up. We're making up for yesterday."

The next hour was nothing but sweat, pain, and Jace being a relentless drill sergeant. Every hit, every movement, every dodge had to be faster, sharper.

By the time they were done, Troy was exhausted. He slumped onto the floor, breathing heavily.

Jace sat beside him, handing him a water bottle. "So. What's up with Annie?"

Troy stiffened.

"She… hasn't been coming to school."

Jace frowned. "After the whole thing with Kasey?"

Troy nodded. "Guess she really took it hard."

Jace was quiet for a moment. Then he clapped Troy on the back, nearly making him choke on his water.

"Good. Means your plan's gonna work even better."

Troy groaned. "You're still on about that?"

"Of course. You're going to get your girl back, man."

Troy sighed, rubbing his temples. "And your big plan is still…?"

Jace grinned. "Simple. Suit up. Flowers. Chocolates. Love song on a radio. Confess outside her house like an absolute lunatic."

Troy stared at him.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Which is why it's perfect."

Troy sighed, shaking his head. But for the first time today, a small smile tugged at his lips.

Tomorrow was Saturday.

And he was going to get Annie back.

No matter what.