Chapter 3: When Owning Yourself Becomes a Lifestyle

So picture this — you're strapped to a chair, wrists bound, head hanging, and your mother is just… watching you. Waiting for your father to return. You're half-conscious from exhaustion, bruised raw from the yelling, the shaking, the blows, the emotional hammering.

“Why won't you change for us?”
"Why won't you be someone special?”

At some point… something inside you just stills.
You stop begging.
You stop wrestling with their expectations.
You stop thinking they might be right.

You look at them — and for the first time you see them.
Not as parents.
But as people using you as a psychological canvas.

Was I their son — or just a vessel for the identity they failed to become?

There is a cold, human moment when your soul stops flinching.
You just say:

“Okay.”

Not with submission —
but with severance.

That bone-deep okay that means:
I no longer belong to you.

I shut down. I tuned out. And I locked in.

I needed to escape — that was all that existed in my mind.

Before my father reentered the room, I wrenched the chair sideways until the legs snapped. I kicked off from the floor, hit my mother’s leg just enough to make space — and then I was sprinting.

I tore through the door and bolted up the street.

A group of guys up ahead saw me running, saw the panic in my face — and suddenly they looked afraid too.

For a split second I wondered: why?

Then—

BANG!
BANG!

Two men ahead of me dropped like puppets whose strings had been cut.

My stomach fell out of me. I kept running.

I turned a corner—

BANG.

Something hot and hard slammed into the back of my skull.

I dropped.
Convulsing.
Vomiting.
Mind fracturing all over again — like the Flash was repeating just for me.

People around me collapsed too.
And then I blacked out.

—

I woke on a cold metal table under sterile lights.

White walls.
White coats.
White faces staring.

Someone said,
“He’s awake.”

Another:
“Finally.”

Another:
“What do we even do with this one?”

They gathered around me.
Studying me like an insect they weren’t sure was worth dissecting.

One scientist scanned a tablet and snorted.

“Well, kid — turns out you’ve made our night longer. We had to analyze you for eight hours.
And congratulations… you’re spectacularly average. No — actually — worse.
You have no powers.”

They laughed.

I didn’t.

Something in me twisted.
Boiled.
Remembered every word, every dismissal, every bruise from my parents.

But before I could react — I noticed someone through the glass.

Misaki.

Standing just outside the observation room.
Eyes wide, scared, but present.

At least someone familiar existed in the world of white walls.

Then they dragged me to a camera array.
Forced me to stand as a journalist read a public bulletin:

“Astra — age 19 — is confirmed to be the first individual in the world… with absolutely no superhuman ability. The only truly powerless human left.”

The words hit me like acid poured straight into the mind.

I felt my throat tighten.
My eyes burn.
Humiliation. Rage. Shame.

Eight scientists reached for tasers.

And I just… snapped.

I lunged.
I head-butted one.
Bit another.
Kicked a third.

Until—

“STOP IT!!!”

Misaki’s voice cracked through the room.

“If you hurt him — my mother will have your heads!
This is why she let me watch!”

Silence.

The scientists froze.

See — Misaki’s mother wasn’t just a researcher.
She was high-ranking inside the World Government’s tech-bio division.
Sharp as a razor.
Determined.
And terrifying when crossed.

You might be wondering:
what IS the World Government?

Pretty simple.

After the Flash, the world tore open.
Powers exploded.
Society shattered.

In the chaos, every major government fused into one global authority: The World Government.

Their biggest project?

The Neuro-Leveler —
a device implanted in the brain that:

• tracks individuals
• identifies their power
• suppresses dangerous abilities
• maintains “order”

Misaki’s mom oversaw major parts of that program.

After the incident, Misaki pleaded with her —
and she agreed to let me stay with them.

That night…
the world laughed at me.

But I found a home.

Misaki’s dad met us at the door wearing an apron and holding a tray of cookies.

He grinned:
“You must be Astra. We have a guest room — and fresh chocolate chip. Hope that helps.”

And yeah — he makes the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.

And after that sweet bite, I decided that I would get strong.

That I would transform.

But that night, as I lay in Misaki’s spare bed staring into the dark…

I fell asleep repeating one thought over and over:

If I have no power…

Then I get to choose who I am.

And that is a power no one else has.