The sound of casual conversation filled Otto's bustling diner, as a soft rock song played lightly over the sound system. An elderly couple stared out the window to their side while they held each others hands on the tabletop. The busy city of Marlon was alive with activity as it always was. Cars zoomed down the streets as pedestrians walked and talked, each in their own little conversations. A single mother tried her best to occupy her three young children as one of them scribbled intently at a coloring book. All while a busy waitress carried a trey of food with top level carefulness, as she tried her very to avoid bumping into any of the customers in the crowded restaurant. Nestled in the corner of the quaint establishment was a solitary figure, heavily bearded and silent in his seat. Across from him on one of the walls was a television screen replaying an old baseball game, a close pitcher's duel between two teams from opposite sides of the country. As the lanky pitcher in blue fired a rocket of a fastball towards homeplate Owen took a slow sip of his coffee. The light brown liquid swirled in the mug as he set it down as gently as he sipped it. Then he wiped his lips with the linen napkin and his eyes wandered around the diner. The trio of patrons in the booth next to his were going on about parahumans, one of them clearly stating his anti-para views plain as day. If only that fool knew who was sitting a few feet from him. A quick smile came onto Owen's face but faded as rapidly as it came as he glanced back at the television. The hitter trotted around the diamond, victoriously having knocked the pitch over the fences, pumping his fist as he rounded third base. "Here we go, your sandwich," A female voice entered into Owen's ear as a plate was placed in front of him. His lunch sandwhich which smelled absolutely delicious. The bacon's crispiness as perfect as one could ask for. "Would you like a coffee refill?" "No, I'm alright thank you." The parahuman replied, eagerly putting his hands on one of the slices of his sandwich. "Well just let me know if you need anything, don't eat that too fast." The waitress said with a laugh then turned and went on her way as Owen chewed down the first bite of his meal. Good food wasn't always something Owen had the privilege of having. The whole living life on the run as a wanted super powered wanted criminal tended to put a damper on that. Still, he frequented lower key restaurants when he could. His bank account had been locked when his parahuman identity was revealed so he could only pay in cold hard cash for everything. The occasional robbery helped him with that. Though he hated living like a runaway, having to rob or scrounge to get by. His current residence in one of the poorest parts of the city in a rundown apartment complex was a far cry from his previous living conditions. Every night he slept, when he could actually sleep he had nightmares of his childhood. Owen felt weak and utterly alone, like the bullies were after him again. Like he was pinned against the wall and struggling as the people after him breathed down his neck. He shut his eyes briefly and dashed away the dark thoughts to try to clear his mind. He chewed down another bite as his eyes drifted back to the baseball game. It had cut to commercial break as Owen took a longer sip of his coffee. An ad about car insurance lit up the screen. An older man, some formerly much more famous actor gave some speech about discount insurance as Owen gulped down his coffee. Then the television screen lit up, as did every other digital screen in the entire diner. Even the digital billboard outside that had previously displayed an ad for a pickup truck rapidly changed to static. Every single cell phone flickered in similar fashion, Owen not having one himself. He had smashed it shortly after his exile from his apartment. A chill crept down the parahuman's spine at the bizarre sight. Owen was more in tuned to technology and machinery than others, even when he was peacefully sitting he always felt an odd, but not painful feeling in the back of his head. Over the last month he'd gotten more used to it, but this time it utterly terrified him and caused his whole body to begin to shake. As the face appeared he felt his hands tense and the mug fall from his fingers, shattering like glass on the desk as drops of coffee shot everywhere. The parahuman did not even register the scalding hotness that splashed onto his shirt as he stared at the screen. His breathing had slowed to a snail's pace in the surreal moment, feeling as if he was gonna choke on the air in which he breathed. His ears ringed powerfully, as the robotic tone forcefully burrowed its way into his ears. [i]"You are not alone."[/i] By the time the words had been uttered the parahuman had already lost it in the moment. Metal screeched all around Owen as the diner's foundations shook terribly. The walls roared as the bars holding them bent in different, unpredictable directions. Tables collapsed upon themselves while silverware crumbled like leaves under foot. Cell phones shattered in hands, crackling like glass under duress. The metal manipulator's hands wildly twitched and shook as he lost control, eyes directly forward at the television screen as it was compressed telekinetically, sparks flying as the electronics inside were manipulated, disfigured and then destroyed. The inside of the building reverberated under intense strain as the confused and frightened customers dove for the floor or ran in panic. Some were caught in the chaos, metal crashing into them while an unlucky woman was momentarily choked as her silver necklace tightened against her flesh. Watches and the clock on the wall rapidly sped ahead, disorienting the displayed time into total nonsense. Windows exploded as their metallic frames were manipulated, shooting glass onto the sidewalks and street. Then everything returned to normal as the eerie display on every single screen vanished. Owen returned to normalcy as well, slowly coming down from his horrific moment. As he tried to steady his breathing his eyes dashed rapidly around, cloudy and hazed, taking in sights of the disfigured diner and patrons flooding out of it. Some unlucky ones tangled in the madness, momentarily constricted or even brutally injured in the chaos. The parahuman stared at his hands as the shaking stopped, once more he was in full control. In a large fragment of glass he saw his reflection and gazed at how pale his skin had become, color returning slowly. Owen tried to get out of his booth but found the act of walking far more difficult than it typically was. He fell forward, landing besides an unlucky customer. A middle aged man with a heavy piece of steel through his gut, blood seeping into a pool beneath him. Terror in his eyes, realization of imminent death. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, oh god." Owen stammered, words flying out of his mouth as he pulled himself to his feet. Crimson red blood dripped from the man's lips, staining his shirt as he simply stared at the parahuman. Owen moved to pull the steel bar from out of the man's stomach but only watched him die, life flicker from confused, terrified eyes. Then he ran, senses, mind and body back to working order as his legs carried him out of the diner, leaping through a horribly bent window. His boots shattered the already broken glass into even smaller pieces as he ran down the sidewalk as fast as he could, bystanders staring at him then at the mutilated diner. After a sharp right then left turn he finally slowed himself, overwhelmed with emotion and physical exertion. A forceful headache filled his head as he walked down an alleyway, shocked and exhausted from releasing so much raw power uncontrollably.