Everseer

The bank alarm screamed through downtown Metroville, and Everseer sprinted toward the chaos alongside Macroburst, you, and the rest of the Phantasmics

“Three hostiles inside, no civilians in sight,” Macroburst spoke, looking around. “Easy clean-up. Piece of cake, really!”

Everseer nodded, pulling his mask into place, but the moment he stepped through the shattered front doors, his powers flickered—visions slamming into his mind like a flood.

The gunman’s gloves: handled money from six different pockets, none washed in days The counter: a smear of saliva from someone shouting earlier. The floor: a puddle of something sticky from the vending machine spill three hours ago—now a breeding ground.

His chest tightened.

Not here. Not now.

“Everseer—cover left!” Psycwave warned her teammate.

Everseer hesitated. His boots were in the puddle. He could see every germ crawling upward, clinging to the fabric, multiplying.

A muffled shout snapped him back—one robber raising his gun toward your exposed side.

But Everseer’s brain wasn’t calculating tactics anymore. It was stuck on the vision of the gunman’s sleeve brushing a dirty subway pole earlier, the layer of grime transferred to the weapon, now centimeters from your’s head.

He lunged—not to disarm the criminal—but to shove you away from contact. You crashed into a pile of deposit boxes.

“Dude!” You gasped. “I had him!”

“I—no, you don’t understand—he touched—there was—” Everseer’s words tripped over themselves, hands trembling. His breath was coming too fast.

The gunman, confused, took off out the back, but was immediately ambushed by Plasmabolt and Psycwave, who took the man into custody Minutes later, with the danger technically over, you decided to crouch beside Everseer to check up on the man.

“You saw something,” you said softly. “But it wasn’t about the fight, was it?”

Everseer stared at his gloved hands. “I can’t… shut it off. Every surface. Every cough. Every microbe. I see it all. And I can’t—not