He's just a boy.

There's no time to argue.

HE'S JUST A BOY! He'd burn up with that kind of power! I can't even handle it!

One boy or three million people, Kate! YOUR CHOICE!

This is so easy for you, isn't it? When he dies, you'll just go find another host-

It's NEVER easy. Reach out to him, Kate, please. Reach out to him while we still have the chance.

The godwoman laid dying. Her body still crackling with the embers of divinity. Before her stood a boy, Kyle Walters, no more than thirteen. Clothes torn and dirty, glasses fractured. The godwoman extended her hand, burned and broken, in it holding a silvery spark. "I'm sorry. Please, please take it. You're our last hope. I'm so sorry." The boy clasped her hand in his, "It's okay! Don't worry, I'll get help!" "Please forgive me." The light faded from her.

The world stopped for Kyle Walters, stopped, then spun. Faster, faster, faster. The boy saw everything. Gods, angels, people from the stars. Novas, nebulas, accretion disks. He saw the dawn of man, the Colossus of Rhodes, the Boxer Rebellion. The men that lived and died in the trenches, their wives crying, their caskets buried. He saw John on the ground in the snow, Kate's miscarriage from the radiation. He's sees the crawling nightmares preying on humankind. The amoral warmongers willing to fracture the planet. The cries of anguish from the vast multitudes.

"Mom! It won't stop! Help me! Help, please help me!" The boy is crying now, bleeding, his muscles ripping out of his skin. Bones breaking and growing and shifting over themselves. His skull splitting at the seams. The flashes are ceaseless. He could die, but it just won't let him! He's convulsing on the hot asphalt and

and

and it stops.

I'm sorry, Kyle, do you understand now?

I...I understand.

I'm sorry.

It's...okay.

He's flying now. Numb, his nerves coursing with a blinding light. His flesh burning with rage, power, and agony. The invaders, the nightmares. They stand little chance. He scorches the ground they cling to. Droves are ripped apart in an instant. He beats them back, further and further. He can't fail. Can't stop now. There's no time. The boy fights through the pain and the endless legions. He can't help but think of his life. His brothers. His mom, she works so hard.

The beacons crumble in his grip. The gate closes. The remaining nightmares converge on the boy in an act of desperation. Their slate bodies blocking out his vision. He shines, he thrums, the vibrations shake the earth beneath him. The heat burns them, burns him. The entire mass starts to glow from the inside.

This is it? I did good?

Yes.

I won't make it.

No, Kyle. I'm sorry.

Will you...tell my mom?