Bubble Boy

The next morning broke quietly over New Argentum.

Mist clung to the peaks, a silver veil rolling down from the snow-tipped mountains, and the Crucible slept in stillness. The training fields hadn't activated yet. No drills, no bots, no students.

But Troy was already there.

He stood alone in the Crucible's command center, leaning back in a swivel chair, arms crossed behind his head. A half-eaten protein bar sat on the console beside him, untouched for nearly ten minutes.

Boredom, mostly, had brought him in early. That and the subtle gnaw of curiosity.

With a sigh, he flicked through the security feeds.

Empty field.

Empty corridor.

Dormitories quiet.

A flicker.

Troy narrowed his eyes and paused the feed. He rewound, tapped a key, then leaned forward as the video sharpened.

There at dusk yesterday. Training Field Sigma.

Two figures.

His daughter.

And his father.

Zoe launched across the field like a missile, eyes flaring red, bubbles flying, vines blooming behind her like wild roots. Starman watched her with that familiar mix of scrutiny and pride, calling out instructions as she struck, blocked, pivoted.

Troy's fingers curled into fists.

He didn't watch the rest. Didn't need to.

He vanished from the chair in a flash of light and sound.

The kitchen at home was warm with breakfast, waffles, eggs, the scent of cinnamon. Annie stood in her robe, hair in a messy bun, humming to herself as she flipped a pancake. Zoe sat at the counter, legs kicking, fully dressed for school, slurping from a smoothie.

Then the air cracked, and Troy materialized in the center of the room, heat still flickering from his arrival.

"Annie."

She flinched, nearly dropping the pan. "Jeez, warn someone next time!"

"Did you know?" he asked.

She blinked. "Know what?"

He pointed a trembling hand at Zoe. "She's been training with him. Behind my back."

Zoe stopped mid-sip. Annie's smile faltered.

"…Troy..."

"Don't 'Troy' me," he snapped. "I saw the footage. You let her, you let him, take her out there. You knew what he'd do."

"She asked me once. I didn't think it would go anywhere..."

"It always goes somewhere with him! Every time he gets involved..."

"He's her grandfather!"

"He's a ghost. He's a weapon we keep using because we're too scared to throw it away."

Zoe stood now, eyes narrowed.

"He trains me. He listens. You just sit in towers and hide behind your guilt."

Troy turned on her. "You don't know what he's done. You don't know what it costs."

"You never tell me! You just hate him, and I'm supposed to go along with it!"

"You're not training with him again," he said, voice like steel. "End of discussion."

Zoe's fists clenched. "You don't get to decide that for me!"

"I'm your father!"

"And he's the only one treating me like a hero!"

They stared at each other across the kitchen, air thick with fury and disappointment.

Annie stepped between them. "Both of you, breathe."

But Zoe had already grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

"I'm going to school," she said coldly.

"Zoe..."

She didn't look back.

The door slammed behind her.

Troy's breath caught in his throat. His fists were still shaking. He stared at the floor, blinking hard.

Annie moved to the counter, turned off the stove.

"She's just like you," she said gently.

Troy sat down, staring blankly at the empty space his daughter had just stormed through.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Nightingale Elementary School buzzed with the energy of recess.

Zoe sat on the edge of the jungle gym, smoothie long gone, legs swinging as she stared into the middle distance. The sun was out, but her mood was stormy.

Below her, Max zoomed around in a circle, pretending to be a spaceship. "Engaging warp drive! Pew pew pew!"

Amy, more subdued, sketched something in the dirt with her finger, trails of black-purple energy tracing the edges like ink in water. "You okay, Zoe?"

Jason climbed up beside her, muscled even at ten, his hero name Titan stitched proudly on his hoodie. "You look like someone took your lunch and your powers."

Zoe groaned. "I'm grounded. From training."

Max skidded to a halt. "You? Why?"

"Because I trained with my grandpa." She said it like it was the worst crime imaginable. "Dad saw the footage. Flipped out."

Amy gave her a look. "But your grandpa's Starman. He's, like, the biggest deal ever."

"Exactly!" Zoe threw up her hands. "Jason gets to train with everyone. Gladiator lets him do tactical drills before math class."

Jason shrugged modestly. "Mom says if I'm going to grow into the name, I better start now."

Zoe crossed her arms. "I'm ready. I want to be ready. But my dad's so stuck in the past, he thinks training with Grandpa is gonna... what, corrupt me?"

Amy looked up. "Didn't your grandpa do some... bad stuff?"

Zoe's glare silenced her.

Jason glanced between them. "Bad stuff or not, he's still one of the most powerful heroes in history."

Zoe gave him a grateful nod, but the bitterness remained.

After school, the sun dipped lower. The sky over New Nightingale glowed amber and lavender.

Zoe sat on the stone steps of the city overlook, kicking her shoes off beside her skateboard. Sam plopped down next to her, earbuds in, hoodie too big, one streak of blue in her otherwise black hair.

Sam, now sixteen, had traded childish sparkle for combat boots and smirks but she still had a soft spot for her niece.

"You're brooding," Sam said without looking up. "That means either a fight, a crush, or someone ate your snacks."

Zoe scowled. "It's Dad. And Grandpa. He found out we've been training. Now I'm not allowed to do anything."

Sam blinked, pulling out her earbuds. "He actually caught you?"

"Security footage. Dumb tower has cameras everywhere."

Sam leaned back. "You knew he wouldn't like it."

"So? Jason gets to train. His parents are fine with it!"

"Jason's parents aren't your parents."

Zoe hugged her knees. "He listens to me. Grandpa, I mean. He talks like I'm a person. Like I can handle things."

Sam went quiet.

Then: "He is a monster, Zoe."

Zoe's head snapped around. "What?"

"I'm serious.Your grandpa, Starman, he's not safe. There's a reason your dad wants him kept at a distance."

"You don't know him!"

"I know enough." Sam's voice was sharp. "You weren't there. You didn't see what he did in the past. You think training is all drills and flying lessons? He makes weapons. Not heroes."

Zoe stood up, fists trembling. "You sound just like Dad."

"Good."

"He's not a monster!"

"He is, Zoe. And the sooner you see it, the safer you'll be."

Zoe's eyes stung. "I thought you'd understand."

"I do. That's why I'm warning you."

But Zoe was already walking away, grabbing her board, ignoring Sam's call after her.

Dawn broke again.

The Crucible was quiet, bathed in soft pink light. Dew glittered on the synthetic grass.

Zoe crept toward Training Field Sigma, backpack slung over one shoulder. The edges of her eyes still burned from last night.

Then she froze.

Voices. Two of them. Harsh. Familiar.

She ducked behind a pillar.

Troy stood at the center of the field, face red with fury, jaw clenched.

Starman stood across from him, arms folded, expression unreadable in the morning light.

"You think this is training?" Troy's voice was low, but shaking with anger. "You're building soldiers. Out of children."

"She asked me for guidance."

"She's ten, not a cadet! You don't guide, you indoctrinate. That's all you've ever done."

Starman's eyes flashed. "I gave her discipline. Purpose. You gave her a bedtime and an electric fence."

"You still think this is a war."

"It is. It always has been."

Troy stepped forward, fists trembling. "You used me. You used all of us. And now you're trying again. With her."

"She's stronger than you ever were."

That hit like a slap.

Troy seethed. "You don't get to talk about strength. Not after what you did to Annie. To the Legion. To Mom."

"You think hiding her makes her safe?" Starman shot back. "She has my power in her blood. It's only a matter of time before the world sees it and uses it."

Troy's voice broke. "I won't let you turn her into a weapon."

"You don't have a choice."

They stared each other down, the past burning between them like a wildfire.

Zoe's breath caught in her chest.