The walk back to my apartment was quiet.
Queens at midnight had a different vibe than during the day. Less noise and fewer people. Just the occasional car passing by, the hum of streetlights, and the distant sound of sirens somewhere in the city.
I kept my hands in my jacket pockets, head down, mind running a thousand miles an hour.
All I could think about was the power I'd just obtained.
LightForce Connection I.
The name alone sounded like something out of a comic book.
Which, in this world, wasn't that weird. Half the people with powers had names that sounded like they came straight out of some writer's notebook.
But this wasn't the DC universe. This was reality. I have powers now.
An actual, honest-to-god superhuman ability.
And I had no idea how to use it.
The system's description had been vague as hell. "Create and manipulate energy constructs composed of solid light."
Great.
Super helpful.
But how?
Did I just think about it, and it happened? Did I need to say something? Wave my hands around like a wizard?
I had no clue.
And I wasn't about to test it in the middle of the street where anyone could see.
So I walked. Focused on getting home, where I could figure this out in private.
My apartment building came into view after about fifteen minutes. Same shitty five-story walk-up I'd been living in for the past six months. Cracked paint on the exterior. A front door that didn't lock half the time. Stairs that creaked like they were one bad day away from collapsing.
I climbed the stairs to my floor, unlocked my door, and stepped inside.
I kicked the door shut behind me, tossed my jacket on the couch, and stood there in the middle of the room.
There was an utter silence in the room.
Just me and whatever the hell I was about to try.
I took a breath.
"Alright," I muttered to myself. "Let's see what I've got."
I held out my right hand, palm up, and focused.
At first, nothing happened.
I frowned, concentrating harder. Trying to will something into existence.
Still nothing.
"Come on," I muttered, staring at my hand like it was broken.
Then I stopped. Took another breath. Thought about it differently.
The system said I could create constructs. That meant I had to create something. Not just wish for it. I had to have a clear idea of what I wanted.
I closed my eyes and pictured something simple—a ball of light, just a small sphere resting in my palm.
I focused on that image, holding it in my mind as clearly as I could, making sure every detail was sharp and solid.
And then I felt it.
A warmth spreading through my hand, not hot or painful, just this strange sensation that something was there where nothing had been a second ago.
I opened my eyes.
And there it was—a ball of light sitting directly in my palm, maybe the size of a tennis ball, glowing with pure white light that had just the faintest tint of blue around the edges, like someone had mixed a drop of sky into pure sunlight.
"Holy shit," I breathed, staring at it like it was the most incredible thing I'd ever seen.
It was real—solid enough that I could feel its weight in my hand, warm against my skin, pulsing faintly with energy that seemed to flow directly from somewhere inside me.
I stared at it for a long moment, completely mesmerized by the fact that I'd just created something out of nothing with my bare hands.
Then I moved my hand, shifting it left and right, and watched as the ball moved with it perfectly, staying centered in my palm no matter how I rotated or tilted my hand.
I grinned like an idiot.
"Okay, that's pretty cool."
I focused again, this time picturing the ball getting bigger, and watched in amazement as the light expanded from tennis ball size to basketball size in the span of a second, the glow intensifying and casting sharp shadows across the walls of my apartment.
Then I pictured it smaller again, and it shrank back down instantly, shrinking until it was barely the size of a marble, responding to my thoughts as easily as if it were an extension of my own body.
"This is insane," I muttered, still grinning as I dismissed the ball by just letting the image go from my mind, watching it vanish instantly without any flash or sound, just gone as if it had never existed.
Then I tried something else, holding out both hands with my palms facing each other about a foot apart.
I focused hard, picturing a blade this time—something long and thin and sharp, a proper sword.
The light formed between my hands, stretching and shaping itself into exactly what I'd imagined, growing and solidifying until I was holding a fully formed sword that was about three feet long with a straight edge.
The blade glowed with that same white-blue light I'd seen on the ball, brighter along the cutting edge where it would bite into whatever I hit.
I wrapped my right hand around the hilt, feeling it solidify under my grip—warm and real and somehow perfectly weighted—and lifted it to examine it properly.
It felt incredible, weightless, but not in a way that made it feel fake or flimsy, more like it was a natural extension of my arm that had always been there.
I gave it a few test swings, starting slow at first and then picking up speed, watching as the blade cut through the air with a faint humming sound and left a brief trail of light in its wake that faded after a second.
"Okay," I said, breathing a little heavier now from the pure excitement coursing through me, "okay, this is definitely cool."
But I needed to test it properly, to see what this thing could actually do beyond just looking impressive.
I glanced around the room, scanning for something I could hit without completely trashing the place and losing my security deposit.
My eyes landed on an old metal curtain rod leaning against the wall in the corner, something I'd taken down months ago when I moved in and just never bothered putting back up or throwing out.
It would work perfectly for what I needed.
I picked it up with my left hand and held it horizontally in front of me. It was about an inch thick.
Then I raised the light sword with my right hand, took a deep breath to steady myself, and swung down hard.
The blade cut through the rod like it wasn't even there, offering absolutely no resistance and making no sound, just a clean slice that left me suddenly holding two pieces of metal instead of one.
"Fuck," I whispered, staring at the cut ends with wide eyes.
They were smooth and perfect, looking like someone had run the rod through an industrial laser cutter rather than just swinging a sword at it.
This thing was sharp—really fucking sharp, sharper than any normal blade could ever be.
I set the two pieces of rod down carefully and looked at the sword again, turning it over in my hand and marveling at how something made of pure light could feel so solid and real.
Then I had another thought, something I needed to test before I got too excited about the possibilities.
What if I tried to throw it?
I mean, if I could make weapons, being able to throw them would be huge—ranged attacks, surprise strikes, all kinds of tactical options that would give me a serious edge in a fight.
Only one way to find out if it worked.
I dismissed the sword and focused on creating something easier to throw, picturing a shuriken in my mind—small, four-pointed, with sharp edges all around.
The light formed in my right hand instantly, solidifying into the throwing star I'd imagined, and I held it between my thumb and forefinger while feeling its almost nonexistent weight.
Then I cocked my arm back, aimed at the wall opposite me, and threw it as hard as I could.
The shuriken left my hand and immediately vanished into thin air, dissolving into nothing before it even made it halfway to the wall, just completely gone as it had never existed in the first place.
I blinked and stared at the space where it should have been.
"What the hell?"
.....
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