VIII-Trade Yourself In (OPEN)

[Amy Jayne King]

Say it once, tell me twice
Are you certain I’m alright?
Just a sign, to remind me
That tomorrow’s worth the fight
Ever changing the storyline that keeps me alive

Who'd have thought that dying could change a person so rapidly? Of course most people who died stayed dead, Amy was a wonderful exception it seemed. Lucky more then anything, damn lucky. Amy had the ability to heal others, along with being able to inflict past injuries that the person in question had once received. That wouldn't save her, never really did anything personally for her but that wasn't to say she didn't appreciate her gift. It helped others, that's what being a hero was all about was it not? a selfless act...

Unfortunately, her lack of self healing wouldn't save her at the one time she needed it and Amy had died. It made her wonder if someone up there was looking down on her, because all of this time she had been the same Amy, selfless and using her ability to save others and never being able to use it for her own needs...until now. Luck would have it that this manifestation occurred just at the exact time she needed it. Amy was able to heal herself.

It came as a shock to everyone, especially Amy. So much so that it took a while to sink in, dying definitely wasn't easy and especially coming back afterwards and thinking your life would be normal. She had her ups and downs, but right now she appeared to be having more good times then bad. Her attitude had changed, she was finding it easier to be tougher, to be determined, what was to fear when you were practically untouchable?

She was taking it all with as much confidence as she could and not getting ahead of herself, though a girl who'd never stepped foot in the training room appeared to be spending more and more time training. Amy had not much to fear anymore and because of that she found it much easier to get stuck in and want out in the field.

The blonde had taken herself to the local gym in brooklyn, a place in which she'd have never gone had it not been for the incident that left her so strong willed. She came here most days, without fail always trying new things. She was stood sparring with the punch bag in front of her, her punches becoming far better and on point over time. In the beginning Amy was fragile, she could barely fight her way out of a wet paper bag but she was progressing rapidly, she wanted to prove a point here, not just to the elites but to herself that she could be far greater of a help then she had ever been before.

[Michael Zyre]

Beads of sweat began to form as Michael began his morning work out routine. The young man's life had been quite interesting lately. Years ago, when Michael felt he was just beginning his life, the young man would have never imagined he'd come this far. Michael was a college drop out. A runaway. And he'd become so much more. He'd helped a detective's agency with a few friends and had gone onto so much more. The young man had become a husband and a father. Had you asked a twenty-something Michael Zyre if that was where he'd see himself, that was definitely not anywhere near the mark. Moreover, the thing that had thrown Michael completely for a loop was the fact that he could also now add murderer to his "resume" so to speak. Sure, Michael had killed before... But at the time it was self-defense. Michael had done so to survive. This time, however, Michael had set out to kill someone. He'd planned it thoroughly and he had succeeded.

The biggest catch to this was the fact that Michael hadn't included his wife in any of these plans. He'd set out not to keep her in the loop. Michael didn't want Grace knowing that he had helped to murder Victor Vaughn. The ex-director of the Registration Strike Force was a psychopath. He was a murderer and a deranged serial killer. He needed to be put down. If he hadn't been dealt with, Victor would have been left unchecked. He would have come after Grace and he would've tried to kill her. Michael knew that this was the only answer. He just didn't want Grace to have any part of it. Because of who she was and what her job was.

Michael furrowed his brow as he continuously punched the punching bag in front of him. The bag swung back and forth as his fists struck the bag back and forth. The young man had moved from lifting weights to the punching bag. Michael's relationship with Grace had become rocky ever since she'd found out that he and Mitchell had organized Vaughn's murder. Not only was she upset about the fact that he'd done it... Grace was upset that he'd hid it from her. Michael felt as though he didn't have any other choice in the matter. However, Grace certainly felt otherwise and made it absolutely clear to him. Michael was in the doghouse that was for sure. He'd been relegated to the couch and nothing he seemed to do could make it better.

To make matters worse, the entire world seemed to lose it's abilities, Michael included. It wasn't the first time Michael had lost his powers... But that didn't make anything easier. The young man had taken up boxing once more to take his mind off of things. It helped him focus and bring about a certain level of concentration that he'd been lacking in his life. Then, without warning, Michael's powers re-emerged. The young man always had a feeling that he'd get his powers back at some point. However, his powers weren't the same as they once were. They were uneasy and fluctuated and seemed to come and go like the wind. As Michael punched the bag with his right fist he felt something in the air change. A faint blue glow began to emanate around Michael's fist and he could feel the temperature in his immediate area rise slightly. As his fist struck the bag it tore open slightly and some of the innards began to spill onto the floor. Michael stopped in his place and eyed the bag for a moment. "Shit..." Michael breathed deeply for a moment as he stopped to catch his breathe. The young man eyed the woman at the other punching bag for a moment. She'd stopped and was eyeing Michael for a moment. Michael smiled and shrugged slightly as he eyed the punching bag he'd destroyed. Hopefully she didn't work for the gym and was about to start yelling at him...