Among The Anomalies

A week later

The training field buzzed with energy, powers flashing—controlled chaos. The morning sun filtered through the open skylights above the indoor arena, casting a soft glow on the well-worn mats and sparring zones. Jisung stood by the entrance, tense, until Felix gently tugged his sleeve and guided him over to a quiet spot at the edge of the floor.

They sat cross-legged on the ground, SKZOOs lazily floating around them. Quokka settled on Jisung’s shoulder like a nosy backpack while Bbokari plopped into Felix’s lap, blinking softly as he watched the action unfold.

“Alright, lesson one,” Felix grinned, nudging Jisung’s side. “Changbin and Seungmin.”

Jisung looked up just as Changbin launched himself forward, fist crackling with red energy. The impact of his punch cracked the ground near Seungmin, who vanished into shadow at the last second, reappearing behind Changbin and lightly tapping his shoulder.

“Changbin’s power is brute strength. Hyper-enhanced. But if he gets pushed into Berserker mode, he can’t tell friend from foe and attacks everyone.” Felix murmured, tone casual but careful. “Seungmin uses shadows—he can disappear into them, move through them. But it's mentally taxing when he overuses it. Gives him these crazy migraines.”

Jisung raised a brow, slightly impressed. “No wonder he always looks like he wants to murder someone.”

Felix snorted. “Exactly. Also, he's kinda the only one who can put Hyunjin in his place.”

“Noted.”

“Speaking of which...” Felix pointed across the room, where Hyunjin was sparring with Jeongin. The silver-haired boy moved with fluid grace, every motion dramatic and charged with invisible tension. Jeongin was using bursts of telekinetic force to dodge and retaliate.

“Hyunjin’s aura-based. He manipulates emotions—can amplify or dull them when he's focused, which is barely but he has his days. When he’s overwhelmed… not so fun.” Felix's gaze flicked to Jisung, checking for any reaction. “Jeongin? Push-type psychokinesis. He can knock people into the wall with a flick of his wrist.”

Jisung let out a low whistle. “That’s kind of badass.”

Jeongin, as if hearing him, turned to flash him a fox-like grin and got promptly kicked in the chest by Hyunjin. He flew back with a yelp, only to land on his feet blinking in mild annoyance at Hyunjin who shrugged innocently.

“You'll get used to the chaos,” Felix said, grinning. “Hyunjin’s just salty he isn't able to call Seungmin his yet.”

Jisung choked on air. “What?!”

Felix raised both hands innocently. “They're still unofficial though. We're so tired of them dancing around eachother, everyone's practically begging for them to just get together at this point.”

On the field, Hyunjin smirked at Seungmin who was now watching from the sidelines, sipping water like he couldn't care less.

Jisung snorted. “Yeah okay, that tracks.”

“What about Minho?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Felix’s smile faded slightly. “He’s not training today. Left early to help set up the next mission.”

Jisung tried to pretend the sudden ache in his chest wasn’t disappointment. He looked back at the sparring field instead.

Chan was demonstrating something to Changbin now—commanding presence radiating off him like heat. His voice carried even from a distance, not loud, but solid and grounding.

“Chan’s got this weird thing—he makes you want to listen. Boosts your energy, too. Works like hell in a fight, but it drains him fast.”

Jisung watched the older man move with calculated precision, power humming in every step.

“You all work like a proper team,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

Felix nudged his shoulder. “Yeah? We're pretty cool huh?".

Jisung smiled faintly.

The sound of sparring dulled as Jisung’s eyes remained fixed on the field. Jeongin had just gone flying again, Changbin was laughing, and Hyunjin was dramatically flopping onto the mat like he’d been fatally wounded.

Jisung tilted his head, thoughtful. “Did you ever… I dunno, wish your power was something more combat-y?”

Felix glanced at him, and for a second, his expression blanked out—just a flicker. Then he smiled, soft and wry. “All the time.”

Jisung blinked. “Wait, really?”

Felix leaned back on his hands, letting out a breath. “I used to love my power. Still do, I guess. But when I turned thirteen and it finally activated… it was healing.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “My parents weren’t thrilled.”

Jisung frowned. “Why?”

“Because they’re assholes,” Felix said, with an almost-cheerful tone. “They’re from this fancy family—you know, the rich, old-school type. Powers were like… social currency to them. Their friends' kids were out there throwing fireballs or tearing down buildings with their minds. And me?” He chuckled bitterly. “I fixed broken arms. Stopped bleeding. Apparently that wasn’t impressive enough.”

Jisung said nothing, but his jaw tensed.

“They got more distant,” Felix continued, eyes trained on the field but clearly seeing something else. “Started treating me like an embarrassment. And eventually, they just… handed me a card full of money and sent me off. I was seventeen. Said I’d be ‘better off not disappointing them anymore.’” He laughed again, sharper this time.

Jisung’s heart twisted.

“I wandered for three years. Used my power where I could. Learned how cruel people get when they think you're weak. And you know, despite having all that money, I spent those years lonely and miserable. Then Chan found me.” Felix’s voice grew quieter, gentler. “Didn’t ask me for anything. Just said I looked tired. Offered food and a place to stay.”

Silence stretched for a beat. Quokka leaned against Jisung’s arm, unusually still. Bbokari climbed up Felix’s side and nuzzled his cheek.

“There’s one more part to it, though,” Felix said after a moment, gaze distant. “I have this other ability. It’s kind of like… emergency resurrection. Can only use it twice in my life. The energy it takes almost kills me.”

Jisung looked at him, wide-eyed.

“I used the first one on my mom,” Felix said quietly. “She got into an accident a few months after I developed my power. Doctors didn’t know what to do and claimed she wouldn't make it. Nothing worked. But—before I even knew what I was doing—I used it. She got better.”

“…And then she still threw you out?”

“Yup,” Felix said, popping the ‘p’ with a bitter grin. “Told me I should’ve saved it for someone important.”

“Shit.” Jisung’s voice was low, soft with disbelief.

“I don’t regret saving her,” Felix said. “But sometimes I think about how fast she let go of me. Like none of it mattered.”

Jisung didn’t respond, just looked down at the floor, shoulders tight. He knew that feeling—being discarded by the people who were supposed to love you first.

Felix leaned over and bumped his shoulder against Jisung’s.

“But I found real people. A real family. And I know I’m not weak.”

Jisung nodded, just once. Quietly.

Felix smiled at him again. “So no. I don’t need a combat power.”

Felix stayed quiet for a bit after his story, just watching the others train with a soft, reflective look. Then, casually, like he was asking about the weather, he nudged Jisung’s arm.

“So,” he said, “what about you?”

Jisung’s fingers twitched slightly, but his expression didn’t change.

“I mean,” Felix added quickly, “you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I’m just curious. You held your own that day we found you, and it wasn’t some fluke.”

Jisung hesitated, glancing at Quokka, who tilted his head in encouragement. “It’s… called Harmonic Vibration,” he mumbled eventually. “I can create controlled shockwaves and sound pulses, sort of like sonic resonance. Strong enough to shatter stuff. Or knock people out.”

Felix blinked. He hadn’t expected Jisung to answer so easily. “Can I see?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation, like Jisung was weighing the risk. But then, with a tiny sigh, he held out a hand and focused. A low hum echoed from his palm, a ripple in the air forming concentric circles. The grass beneath his hand trembled, and a nearby rock cracked with a sharp snap, splintering clean in half from the vibration.

Felix’s jaw dropped. “Holy—Jisung, that’s awesome!”

But Jisung didn’t say anything. He was staring at the rock like it had offended him.

“What the fuck?”. came a voice from behind.

Jisung’s body stiffened. Felix turned, already wincing.

Minho stood there, frozen mid-step, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“You never—” Minho started, but his words stuck in his throat. “You can't have powers.”

Jisung’s jaw clenched.

“I’m heading in,” he muttered, brushing off his pants. Quokka trailed after him, shooting Leebit a tight look as they passed.

“Wait—” Minho reached for his arm instinctively.

Jisung yanked himself back, snapping sharply, “Don’t touch me.”

Minho froze in place, stunned.

Jisung shot him a glare. “Just leave me alone,” he said, voice colder than before, then turned and walked off without another word.

Felix stood awkwardly between them for a beat, glancing from one to the other, but didn’t say anything as he slowly followed after Jisung, concern shadowing his features.

Minho remained there, staring at the splintered rock in stunned silence, questions spinning wildly in his head.

Later that day, he found Chan in the control room, poring over mission reports like usual. The gentle hum of monitors filled the space, but the moment the door creaked, Chan glanced up.

“You’re back,” he said casually. “Everything okay?”

“No,” Minho replied bluntly, stepping in and shutting the door behind him. “You knew.”

Chan raised an eyebrow. “Knew what?”

“That Jisung has powers,” Minho said, crossing his arms. “You knew. Felix knew. You especially knew. And you didn’t say anything.”

Chan sighed, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not like I was hiding it to hurt you.”

Minho frowned. “That’s not the point. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chan was quiet for a beat before he answered. “Because I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Given your history with him… I thought maybe seeing him would be enough of a shock. You’ve been avoiding him.”

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have wanted to know he’s not—” Minho trailed off, frustrated. “When we were kids, he never developed powers. He was fourteen and still waiting. You know how rare that is.”

“I do,” Chan admitted. “But clearly, something changed.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Minho muttered, pacing slightly. “He shouldn’t have powers. It’s almost unheard of to get them late. Unless… unless he lied. Maybe he had them and just didn’t tell us.”

“Do you think he would’ve kept that from you back then?”

Minho stopped, jaw tightening. “…No. I don’t think he would have.”

Chan folded his arms. “Then maybe he’s part of the 0.5 percent. The exception, not the rule. Late manifestation is rare, but not impossible.”

“But why?” Minho asked, quieter now. “Why him? Why now?”

Why does it bother you so much?” Chan asked carefully. “Is it because you thought you knew him?”

“I did know him,” Minho snapped. Then, quieter: “I think. But then everything changed. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again, let alone like this. And now it’s like… he’s a stranger.”

Chan gave him a look that was both sympathetic and knowing. “Well, he’s not the same kid. None of us are.”

Minho didn’t reply right away. Then he asked, voice strained, “Did he say when he got them?”

Chan sighed heavily. “Look Min, I don't know. Whatever happened to him, it wasn’t good. So if you’re going to be part of this, you need to tread carefully. This isn’t about you right now.”

Minho swallowed and nodded stiffly, but there was a troubled look in his eyes.

He turned and left without another word.