HYPERMAN AND THE SEER Steve's POV I wasn’t bothered by the flashing red lights, their strobing beams slicing through the dimly lit cell like jagged scars. The alarms blared, an incessant wail that seemed to vibrate through the walls themselves, but none of it mattered. I glanced down at the guard I had flipped mere moments ago. He lay crumpled on the floor as if gravity had doubled in strength. His wide, disbelieving eyes locked onto me, frozen in sheer terror. His face—pale and drenched in sweat—seemed paralyzed by the raw, incomprehensible power he had just witnessed. I saw it in his gaze, that fragile moment when fear morphs into hopelessness. I stood there, unbothered. He wouldn't dare stand again. With slow, deliberate steps, I moved to the iron bars, my fingers curling around their cold, unyielding surface. I gripped them hard, feeling the resistance in the metal as if it were alive, fighting me. My muscles tensed, and I pulled with all my might. At first, nothing happened. Then—impossibly—the steel began to creak. It groaned under the pressure, and slowly, agonizingly, it bent to my will. My heart raced, not out of fear, but out of awe—my own awe. I could feel the surge of strength coursing through me, making the impossible happen right before my eyes. I was watching myself do things no human should be capable of. As the bars finally gave way, a gap wide enough for me to slip through appeared. I was halfway there when, suddenly, the guard—who I thought was done for—stirred. His fingers fumbled desperately for his gun, shaking with fear, his every movement slow and hesitant. With trembling hands, he raised it, pointing the barrel at me, as if that simple act would stop what was coming. Desperation clung to him like a second skin, but I barely gave him a second glance. I forced my body through the opening, the steel scraping against my sides as I squeezed through. I heard the sharp crack of gunfire. The bullets hit me, sending a sharp sting through my body. It was a pain that should have brought me down, but I didn’t stop. My flesh burned where the bullets hit, but I moved forward, as if the shots were nothing more than a nuisance. I broke free from the cell, the world outside the bars rushing toward me like a breath of fresh air. Then I saw them—a squad of men, all clad in black combat gear, their eyes hidden behind reflective visors. They stood like a wall, blocking my path, weapons drawn, their faces grim with determination. Without hesitation, I launched myself toward them. My feet barely touched the ground, each step carrying me forward with inhuman speed. Before they could react, I slammed into them with a force that seemed to defy the laws of nature. One push. That’s all it took. One single push, and they were airborne, bodies lifted off the ground as though gravity had momentarily forgotten them. Ten men, flung across the room like discarded toys, collided with walls and equipment. The impact was thunderous, the sound of armor meeting concrete reverberating like a cacophony of broken bones and splintering steel. The sheer power in my strike left me momentarily stunned. I hadn’t even realized what I was capable of until now. I didn’t stop. I turned down the nearest corridor, my legs propelling me faster than I could comprehend. The hallway stretched before me, twisting and turning like a labyrinth, dimly lit and foreboding. But as I ran, a thought clawed its way into my mind: Why am I running? I could feel the pulse of adrenaline slowing, a cold clarity washing over me. If I could take down ten men with a single shove, why was I fleeing? What was there to fear? I slowed my pace to a halt, the echo of my footsteps fading into the distance. I stood there, in the middle of the corridor, breathing heavily, but not out of exhaustion—out of realization. The alarms still screamed, the red lights still flashing furiously, but I felt strangely calm. I didn’t need to run. I could destroy anyone who stood in my way with a single punch, a single move. But now, I faced another problem. In front of me stretched countless passageways, each one splitting off into new directions, twisting into shadows, disappearing into unknown depths. It was a maze, a prison designed to confuse and contain. I stood at the crossroads, torn between forging ahead blindly or turning back to face the guards head-on, knowing they wouldn’t stand a chance.

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