The Parr family wasn’t used to outsiders in their secret training space. Their basement had been retrofitted with all kinds of equipment over the years: reinforced walls, crash mats, energy monitors, even a track that Dash had worn grooves into.
But when Alex stood there—still tentative, his wings folding and unfolding nervously—they knew this was different. This wasn’t just about training a teammate. This was about helping someone discover himself.
Bob clapped his hands together.
“Alright, everyone. Alex is part of this team now. And team means we don’t leave each other hanging. He’s got powers he doesn’t fully understand, and it’s our job to help him get control. Each of you will bring what you’re best at. Deal?”
Dash practically bounced in place. “You mean I get to coach him? Yes! Finally, I’m the teacher!”
Violet rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’ll end well…”
Helen smiled knowingly. “Patience, Vi. This could be good for all of us.”
Alex shifted uncomfortably. “Are you sure about this? I… I don’t want to hurt any of you again.”
Violet stepped forward, putting a hand on his arm. “That’s why we’re here. You don’t have to do this alone.”
At first, it was brutal.
Day 1
Dash had Alex tangled in pillars, Violet’s exercises ended with Alex snapping his eyes open in frustration, Helen had him trapped in a knot of her elastic limbs, and Bob had him collapse flat on the floor under a mountain of weights. He was drenched in sweat, feathers falling off, pride shattered.
“admit it,” Alex muttered, wings folding like a wounded bird. “I’m not cut out for this.”
But Bob knelt down, steadying a hand on his shoulder. “You think any of us got it right the first time? You keep showing up, that’s the job.”
Day 3
Alex lasted longer with Dash, managing not to slam into a wall while chasing the boy’s blur. With Violet, he could now hold his breathing steady for minutes at a time, even when her forcefield orbs zipped around him. Helen was grinning when he finally slipped through one of her trick holds instead of flailing. Bob added more weight than before, and though Alex staggered, he stayed standing.
Day 4
Alex limped into the backyard, wings low and feathers sticking out at pathetic angles. Bob was already there rolling his shoulders, and Helen stood beside him with her arms crossed and an expression that said Oh boy, here we go.
Bob clapped his hands. “Alright, kid. Today? No wings.”
Alex froze. “…What?”
Helen pointed at him. “You rely on them too much. We need to see if you can defend yourself when someone grabs you. Or when a villain decides to take away your airspace.”
Bob grinned. “And trust me, they will.”
Alex swallowed, glancing back at his wings as if saying goodbye.
Helen stepped aside. “Okay. Show us your stance.”
Alex planted his feet. Bob squinted. “…Are you about to fight or are you waiting for a taxi?”
Alex groaned. “I thought this was how people stand.”
Helen snorted. “Sweetie, you look like your spine is apologizing.”
“Great,” Alex muttered. “Humiliate me first, then punch me. Perfect.”
Bob motioned him closer. “Hands up. Chin down. Move lightly. You have the wings of a hawk but the footwork of a refrigerator.”
Alex blinked. “Wow. Hurtful.”
Helen laughed and circled him. “Don’t mind him. He calls everyone a refrigerator.”
Bob shrugged. “Not everyone.”
“Bob, you called Lucius a refrigerator last week.”
“He was standing like one!”
Alex sighed dramatically. “You know, I actually feel worse now.”
“Good,” Bob said, stepping forward. “Means you’re ready. Hit me.”
Alex hesitated. “Uh… you sure?”
Bob nodded once.
Alex threw a punch.
Bob caught it like he was grabbing a balloon.
“Sloppy,” Bob said calmly. “And slow.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. “I hit as hard as I could!”
“That’s even more concerning,” Helen whispered.
Bob released his fist and motioned again. “Again.”
They trained for an hour—footwork, jabs, blocks, timing. Alex tripped twice, punched the air more than Bob, and at one point managed to punch himself in the shoulder with an ugly pivot.
Dash passed by with a juice box. “Dude, what are you even doing?”
“Shut up,” Alex wheezed, his pride and lungs equally battered.
But something changed by the two-hour mark. He finally timed a counter. Blocked an elbow. Slipped under Bob’s arm and backed out with real speed.
Bob stepped back, impressed. “There. That’s it. You’re getting the rhythm.”
Helen smiled proudly. “Told you he’d pick it up.”
Alex wiped sweat from his forehead. “So… am I still a refrigerator?”
Bob grinned. “Nah. More like a mini-fridge.”
“Huge improvement,” Helen added.
Alex raised his hands in mock triumph. “YES. I’ve evolved.”
They broke into laughter, and for the first time that day, Alex felt it—
he wasn’t learning to fight alone.
He was growing with them.
Day 5
Dash was first up. He zipped around Alex in dizzying circles, his voice blurring as fast as his movements.
“Rule number one, wing-man—speed is nothing without control! You’ve got those giant wings, which is cool, but you’re clumsy in the air. I mean, no offense, but you flap around like a broken kite sometimes.”
Alex frowned. “Wow… thanks.”
Dash grinned. “Hey, I’m the fastest guy alive. If I can’t teach you control, no one can.”
They set up obstacle courses: foam pillars swinging on cables, moving platforms, targets that lit up when Dash hit switches. The challenge was simple: Alex had to stay airborne while reacting to everything Dash threw at him.
“Too slow!” Dash zipped by, smacking Alex lightly in the back of the head.
“Focus! Anticipate, don’t just react!”
Frustration built, but soon Alex began reading Dash’s patterns. His wings snapped tighter for sharper turns, adjusted angles midair. He clipped a pillar once, feathers scattering to the mat, but instead of falling, he stabilized.
Dash skidded to a halt, panting, a huge grin on his face.
“Ha! You’re getting it! Told you I’m the best coach ever!”
Alex smirked faintly. “Maybe you’re not completely useless.”
---
Violet’s turn was quieter, more focused. She led Alex into a small chamber where soundproof walls muffled everything. In the center sat two cushions.
She crossed her legs and sat. “Sit. Breathe. And don’t roll your eyes.”
Alex hesitated but obeyed.
“This is about focus,” Violet explained. “Your wings—they respond to more than just movement. They respond to your emotions. That’s why you lost control before.” Her voice softened. “That’s why you hurt me.”
His shoulders tensed, guilt flickering. She reached out and touched his hand. “I’m okay. And you will be too. But you need to control the storm inside, not let it control you.”
She taught him breathing exercises, visualizations. She had him close his eyes and “see” the wings in his mind, feel the way each feather shifted, how air currents bent around them. He struggled, restless and impatient. But slowly, he began sensing subtle changes: the twitch before a feather adjusted, the ripple before a wing folded.
Violet smiled faintly. “Good. Now try with a distraction.”
She flickered invisible, then reappeared across the room, then created forcefield orbs that zipped around like gnats. Alex had to maintain control while chaos surrounded him.
“Focus, Alex!” Violet called. “Block out everything but what you choose!”
“Easy for you to say! How can I focus with you in that suit?!” Alex almost sounded desperate.
“Stop being so Alex and focus!” Violet giggled.
Alex tried harder than before.
By the end, sweat dripped from his brow, but his wings stayed steady, folded with purpose instead of panic. Violet gave a small, proud smile.
“You’re stronger when you’re calm. Remember that.”
---
Helen’s sessions were… intense.
She stood in front of Alex, stretching her arms casually until they reached across the room. “Okay, here’s the deal. You’re strong, but strength without flexibility will break you. Your wings are powerful, but power isn’t always the answer.”
She snapped her arms around him like rubber bands, forcing him to wriggle free without damaging his feathers. Just like before, he fought with brute strength—pulling, straining—but Helen kept dodging, slipping around him, binding him tighter.
“Stop relying on force!” she scolded. “Use precision. Adapt!”
Gradually, Alex learned to fold and unfurl his wings at the right angles, slipping out of her traps. He even managed to surprise her once, twisting midair and pinning her elastic arm gently to the floor with the tip of his wing.
Helen raised a brow, impressed. “Well. Look at that. The boy’s learning.”
Alex smirked. “Guess I had a good teacher.”
---
Bob’s training was the most straightforward. The man believed in two things: hard work and more hard work.
He loaded weights onto Alex’s back again—barbells, plates, even concrete blocks—forcing him to train wing strength like muscle. Alex struggled of course, feathers trembling under the load, but Bob pushed him.
“You think you’re gonna protect people by going half-strength?” Bob barked. “You need to know exactly how much you can take. And then push past it.”
They moved to endurance drills: long-distance flights with Bob timing him, then resistance training with Bob literally holding his wings down while Alex fought to break free.
“Again!” Bob growled.
“I can’t—!”
“You can. Now show me!”
With a roar, Alex powered through, wings slamming open, the force nearly knocking Bob off his feet.
Bob grinned, proud. “There it is. That’s the fighter I knew was in you.”
Day 7
He wasn’t failing anymore. Dash was laughing because Alex was now predicting his movements. Violet nodded proudly when Alex folded his wings with perfect calm even as she created a storm of distractions. Helen raised a brow, caught genuinely off guard when Alex used a wing feint to escape one of her snares. And Bob? He finally had to admit, “Alright, kid… you’ve got grit. Real grit.”
Over time, their sessions became less like training and more like family bonding. They laughed when Alex crashed into a mat, teased him when Dash outmaneuvered him, encouraged him when Violet helped him focus.
After one of the evening sessions, everyone was tired, sprawled around the living room, pizza boxes on the table. Alex sat off to the side, wings curled tight.
Dash tossed a slice into his mouth. “So… we need to call you something. You can’t just go around like, ‘Oh hey, I’m Alex-with-wings.’”
Helen chuckled. “He’s right. Supers need names. Something strong, something memorable.”
Bob leaned back in his chair. “Names mean something. They’re not just labels, they tell people who you are.”
Violet glanced at Alex. “Well… what do you want it to mean?”
Alex hesitated. “I don’t know. All I’ve done so far is… hurt people. I don’t feel like I deserve a name yet.”
There was a silence. Then Violet spoke, quiet but firm:
“You’re wrong. You fought the mind control, even when Marvin tried to force you again. And now you’re fighting harder than anyone to be better. That means something.”
Dash snapped his fingers. “How about Wing-Man?”
Everyone groaned.
“Too corny.” Helen said.
“Sounds like a sidekick.” Bob tilted an eyebrow
Dash sulked. “Fine. What about… Talon?”
Alex frowned. “Sounds like a villain.”
It went back and forth: Hawk fire. Angel blade. Whitewing. None of them fit.
Finally, Violet leaned forward. “You said once that you felt like your wings were your curse and your soul at the same time. That they make you dangerous, but also… they’re part of who you really are.”
Her voice softened. “What about Soul Feather?”
Alex blinked, stunned. The room went quiet.
Helen smiled softly. “That’s beautiful.”
Bob nodded. “Has weight to it.”
Dash shrugged. “Kinda poetic… but hey, I’ll allow it.”
Alex felt a lump in his throat. “Soul Feather…” He tested the words, wings twitching open as if in approval. “Yeah. That’s… me.”
"Aren't we forgetting something?" Bob said with a teasing smile.
The whole parr family looked at each other with a mischievous grin on their face.
"What?" Alex said, confused almost nervous.
Later that evening
Edna Mode had opinions. Loud ones.
When they brought Alex to her workshop, she circled him like a hawk, tugging feathers, muttering in French, sketching furiously.
“Wings—delicate but powerful. The boy is a contradiction. Hmm! He needs colors that show purity and fire.”
She presented designs
Base form: White feather-like patterning along the arms and shoulders, symbolizing purity and rebirth. Chest and core in deep red, matching the Parrs’ iconic suits. Subtle gold accents tracing along the wings’ edges, catching the light like sunlight on feathers. A hood-style collar for dramatic flair, but practical aerodynamics.
Dark form: When Alex’s emotions tipped into rage, the suit itself would shift: the whites deepened into jet black, the gold burned into molten red highlights, like embers glowing along his wings. Same design, but an entirely different mood—intimidating, feral, unstoppable.
Details: Reinforced gloves to handle his wing strikes without breaking bone. A utility harness light enough to not interfere with flight. Boots lined with micro-grips for landing on glass or metal. And, of course, “No capes.”
When Alex tried it on, the room fell silent.
Violet’s eyes softened. “You look… dazzling.”
Edna clapped her hands. “Perfection. Soul Feather is born!”
They all laughed.
A few days passed. Alex was ready now. He was finally allowed to work as a superhero.
The night sky over Metroville shimmered with distant lights, but the city streets below were alive with danger. Alex — Soul Feather — perched atop a high ledge, his white wings folded and gleaming faintly under the neon glow. Tonight was his first real mission with direct guidance from the Parr family
The target was a tech-thieves crew. Not ordinary crooks—they’d hit a defense contractor’s lab and stolen experimental plasma cores. Their getaway? A souped-up hover-car, sleek and almost military-grade, tearing through the city like a missile.
The Parrs were on comms, but Alex was the one in pursuit.
Bob’s voice crackled in his earpiece:
“Stay sharp, Alex. Keep your altitude high, don’t let them out-maneuver you.”
Alex’s wings beat hard, slicing the night air. His eyes locked on the glowing trail of the hover-car’s engines. “Roger.”
Dash, half jealous and half hyped, chimed in:
“C’mon, Soul Feather! Don’t let ’em smoke you!”
Violet’s voice was calmer, grounding him.
“Breathe, Alex. Don’t rush—time your dives. You’ll catch them.”
The thieves weren’t rookies. Their hover-car swerved between skyscrapers, skimming billboards, ducking into underpasses. But Alex was learning—each beat of his wings steadier, each dive sharper.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The first pass was sloppy. He slammed into a neon sign when he tried to cut them off. Sparks rained, his shoulder bleeding, but he forced himself back into the air.
Helen’s voice cut in. “Focus, Alex. Flexibility—remember what we practiced.”
He shifted tactics. Instead of brute forcing it, he used his wings to bank and weave, folding them tight to slip through narrow gaps, spreading them wide to brake hard. Slowly, he reeled the thieves in.
One thief leaned out the window, firing a plasma pistol. Bolts of light streaked past Alex, searing holes into his feathers. He tucked his wings, spiraled, then snapped them wide open—gusting wind downward, flipping the car for just a second.
“Holy crap,” Dash muttered in awe. “He meant to do that.”
But the thieves recovered, boosting hard. Alex pushed himself faster, lungs burning, and finally landed on the roof of the hover-car.
The driver swerved violently. Alex dug his taloned boots into the plating, spreading his wings for balance. One thief crawled out the side door, swinging a stun baton. Alex blocked with his forearm, but the shock ripped through him. His muscles seized; his vision blurred—
And then instinct took over. With a guttural cry, Alex swung his wing forward, the sharpened edge cutting the baton clean in two. The thief went tumbling off the side, saved only by a grappling tether.
The hover-car slammed into an overpass column, shuddering. Alex was thrown across the roof, slamming his side into the edge of the windshield. Pain seared through his ribs. He gasped—something inside felt broken.
“Alex!” Violet’s voice burst through the comm, panicked.
“Stay with us!” Helen urged.
But Alex grit his teeth, pulling himself upright. “Not done yet.”
With a final surge, he drove both wings downward, ripping open the hover-car’s roof. Wind howled inside. He dragged the driver out by the collar and flung him onto the pavement where Frozone’s ice-slide snared him, finally catching up to Alex. The hover-car, uncontrolled, spun into a crash barrier, sparks bursting like fireworks.
Alex rolled free just before the explosion lit the night sky.
When the dust cleared, Alex staggered, clutching his side. His suit was soaked with blood, his breathing shallow. Violet was already sprinting toward him, forcefields deflecting falling debris while frozone took the driver and the rest of the thieves out of there.
“Alex—oh God, your ribs—” she gasped.
But then, before their eyes, the bleeding slowed. His breath steadied. The deep gashes along his torso began knitting together, muscle pulling back into place, skin sealing shut. It wasn’t instant, but terrifyingly fast—like watching time rewind.
Dash’s jaw dropped. “Whoa. Did anyone else just see that?”
Helen’s voice was hushed, awed. “He’s healing.”
Bob crossed his arms, stunned. " Holy crap...”
Alex looked down at himself, trembling. “I… I could heal small injuries. But I—” He winced, his hand brushing over the fading scar. “Holy shit I can’t believe this.”
Violet met his eyes, still intense with worry fading into relief. “Oh my god... I thought I lost you for a second...”
Alex’s wings unfurled fully, still singed but glowing faintly white in the moonlight. His first real victory—and the world had just gotten its first glimpse of Soul Feather.
After a long chat with the Parrs and explaining about his healing factor Alex finally said goodbye and since it was already past midnight and he wouldn’t be seen, flew home.
Alex staggered into his apartment like someone who’d just been hit by a bus, dragged under it, and somehow won the fight anyway. As soon as the balcony door clicked shut, he peeled off the super-suit and tossed it onto the edge of the bed. It landed with all the ceremony of a wet towel.
“Great. I'm gonna use the balcony to enter my own place from now on,” he muttered. “God help me.”
The shower was long—half because he needed it, half because he wasn’t sure if the buzzing under his skin was trauma, nerves, or just his healing factor being dramatic. Either way, the water didn’t judge him.
Fresh clothes on, he ordered an unholy-sized pizza, a mountain of fries, inhaled it like a man who had legally married carbs, and then collapsed face-first into bed.
His phone buzzed before he could pass out.
VIOLET:
Hey… are you home?
Are you sure you're okay?
ALEX:
I’m fine.
Really, Vi. I heal. That’s literally a thing I do.
Three dots appeared, vanished, reappeared—classic “Violet worrying so hard her phone is sweating.”
VIOLET:
And since WHEN do you heal??
You didn’t think maybe that was an IMPORTANT DETAIL??
ALEX:
Well... The night I finally got back home after the whole depression thing.
I discovered it by accident.
VIOLET:
OMG I'm going to slap you for real.
Why didn't you tell me sooner?!
You know, before I almost have a heart attack seeing you with your ribs like that!
ALEX:
Thought it was normal?
Like… you know... basic wing-guy stuff?
Her reply shot back instantly.
VIOLET:
Basic wing-guy stuff??
Alex. NORMAL people don’t just grow back skin.
ALEX:
Well, normal people don’t turn invisible, so I feel like we’re both weird in our own ways.
A beat. Then:
VIOLET:
Fair
Did you eat at least?
ALEX:
You’d be proud.
I destroyed a pizza the size of my ego.
VIOLET:
So… family-sized?
ALEX:
Wow.
Wounded.
Again.
Good thing I heal.
VIOLET:
Yeah yeah, healer boy.
What toppings?
ALEX:
Everything except pineapple.
If I wanted sweet disappointment, I’d just look at my life choices.
VIOLET:
You’re ridiculous.
ALEX:
You like it.
Another pause—longer this time.
VIOLET:
…Maybe.
Just rest, okay?
ALEX:
Already horizontal.
If I get any more relaxed I’ll become part of the mattress.
VIOLET:
Good.
Sweet dreams, Soul Feather.
He snorted.
ALEX:
Don’t call me that.
I’m literally allergic to cringe.
VIOLET:
Too bad.
Goodnight. ?
ALEX:
Love you. Goodnight.
Alex stared at that little heart for a second longer than he’d ever admit…
Then sleep finally dragged him under.
---
The morning sun was just beginning to stretch its light across the sleepy town, brushing golden streaks over the rooftops. Alex had thought he had the place entirely to himself. His parents — Mateo and Laleh had left Metroville a few hours ago. Alex had spent the last few days training in secret, mastering his wings and other abilities, confident that no one could see him here.
He entered the near-abandoned warehouse, the echo of his boots on the cracked concrete floor bouncing off the tall, dusty walls. The air smelled faintly of rust, old wood, and faint oil — perfect for a practice session. A pile of old crates and a forgotten metal barrel had become his makeshift training ground.
“Alright… let’s try this again,” Alex muttered, stretching his wings instinctively. They twitched, black tips fading to white as his mood stabilized. He leapt, launching himself into a forward flip. His wings spread wide, catching the air with a strong gust, spinning him around, as if his wings refused control.
“Damn it!” he yelled, kicking a bucket that clattered noisily across the floor.
Unbeknownst to him, fate had other plans. Mateo and Laleh, having just remembered something they’d left behind, returned to the town. When they knocked on their son’s apartment and received no answer, a neighbor stopped them.
“He usually goes for his morning run around this time,” the neighbor said. “He heads down that way… past the old factory road. Can’t miss him.”
Mateo and Laleh started walking, following the trail. As they neared the warehouse district, Laleh spotted something glinting in the early light — an AirPod that had fallen near a cracked curb. Her heart skipped.
“Honey… I think he’s in there,” she whispered, fear tightening her chest.
“Alex? In there? Cari?o, Alex is on a morning run. Why should…” then Laleh cut him off “This is HIS air pod!”
Mateo frowned in worry as the two hurried toward the warehouse, every step amplifying the pounding in their chests. From inside came the unmistakable sound of someone moving with extraordinary force: the rush of air, the soft thuds of landings, a frustrated yell — “Damn it!” — and the clatter of a kicked bucket.
Mateo swallowed, whispering, “Alex?”
Alex froze mid-flip, wings extended to their full span. White feathers shimmered in the sunlight filtering through the broken windows, the tips faintly glowing. His heart thumped as he realized he wasn’t alone.
He landed clumsily, wings folding partially behind him. “M… Mom? Dad?” His voice caught between surprise, panic, and shame.
Laleh stepped into the warehouse cautiously, eyes scanning him from head to toe. “Alex… what is—?” her heart almost jumping out of her chest.
“Mom… Dad… I can explain—” Alex panicked, looking at his parents as if he was caught red handed in a murder crime scene
“No you can’t!” Laleh snapped, pacing in a tight circle while pointing at both him and the wings like she was selecting ingredients for emotional meltdown stew. “What—how—why—MATTEO HE HAS WINGS—”
“I see them,” Mateo muttered, blinking rapidly. “I’m… processing.”
He actually said that. Out loud. Like a broken printer rebooting.
Alex folded his wings tightly behind him, trying to look “normal,” which was basically impossible when he looked like a Persian angel who moonlighted as a bouncer.
Laleh finally stopped pacing long enough to take a breath that could have powered a hot-air balloon. “Alex… how long have you had THESE?”
“Uh… since recently?” Alex said, which was technically true in the vaguest, least helpful way possible.
Mateo walked around him slowly, as if checking for zippers. “You’re the Soul Feather,” he said, voice low with shock. “You are that guy on the news.”
Alex winced. “Yeah. Surprise?”
Laleh sat down on an old crate and put her face in her hands. “My son is a superhero. You couldn’t just be a dentist. No, no… wings. Giant wings.”
“Mom—”
“And your poor girlfriend!” Laleh cried, looking up. “Does Violet even know about this?”
And there it was. The moment. The trap sprung. The Parr Secret Preservation Protocol activated in Alex’s brain like a fire alarm.
“No… None of the Parrs know. Violet just knows me as a student.”
Laleh exhaled shakily. “Well… good. Good. That’s… fine. She shouldn’t know. Until we… understand this.” She gestured vaguely at his wings, like they were misbehaving furniture.
Mateo finally stepped closer and rested a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Are you safe?” he asked quietly. “Are you… okay?”
Alex’s throat tightened. He nodded. “Yeah. I am. I promise.”
“But how did you even get them??? Who has done this to you?!” Mateo’s face was twisted with worry.
That made Alex think real hard for a second. He knew he couldn’t tell them the truth so he tried to make up a story.
"Nobody 'did' anything to me, Dad. I... I think this has been a slow-motion thing since I was a kid."
His mother sighed “A slow-motion thing? Like puberty? Alex, you have wings!"
Alex tried to sound more believable "I know! Look, remember that weird fever I had a few years ago? The one where the doctors couldn't figure out the enzyme levels?" He unfolded his wings slightly
"I think that triggered something—a genetic anomaly. Some kind of mutation that stayed dormant until recently. It's like my body suddenly finished building a feature it didn't realize it started.".
Mateo frowned, "But why now? Why wings?"
"I wish I knew! All I know is... one day, maybe a week or two ago, I felt this terrible, agonizing itch under my shoulder blades. I thought I had torn something at the gym. I went to sleep, and I woke up... with these." Alex pointed to his wings with his eyes
Laleh's sharp eyes softened as she took in his posture, the way his shoulders tensed, the slight bruises from failed flips, and the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. “But why did you hide it from us? You think we would judge you?”
“No… I… I thought… I didn’t want anyone hurt. I didn’t want to scare anyone,” he admitted, eyes wide.
Mateo shook his head in awe. “Son… this is… incredible. Look at you… you’re… amazing.”
Alex’s eyes darted between them, a mix of relief and fear. “You’re not angry? You’re… okay?”
Laleh's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Alex… you’re my son. We might worry, we might be scared, but we’ll always be here. Always.” She stepped forward, gently touching his shoulder. The warmth of her hand grounded him.
Alex let out a shaky breath, lowering his wings slightly. “I… I didn’t want to hide it. I just… I had to learn to control it first.”
Mateo moved closer, placing a hand on Alex’s other shoulder. “Wings or no wings… you’re my son.” It was the best sentence he could ever hear. Alex felt the fear in his heart go away as his parents hugged him.
A week went by. Alex was by himself in his apartment chilling on the sofa. Doorbell rang.
He opened the door. "Mom! Hi! Oh my God what a nice surprise come in! Umm sorry for the mess" Alex said with excitement in his tone fading into innocent guilt. "Oh, I'm getting used to it" Laleh replied with a motherly tone. They sat down and had some coffee talking about daily things, how has Alex been doing in collage and so on...
"So, how's Violet?" She said before sipping from the coffee. "She is fine, in the taxi on her way to the art museum as we speak." Alex caught his mom's worried tone knowing something was coming. "Mom tell me what's wrong before I overthink myself to death, please."
Laleh sipped the coffee “You are my son... OK. Listen pumpkin… You've got to tell her family. They must know. At the very least she deserves to know. "
" Really mom? This again? How many times have I told you I can't! You think it's so simple? Come on give me a break " Alex answered a bit annoyed.
Their argument carried on for a while with his mom being mildly disappointed but finally letting go with a motherly warning, " you're going to marry her someday. I know you Alex, I raised you. And when the time comes it'll be too late to share your secret. You have a real relationship after all these years. Be careful with it. It might not happen ever again."
Then she kissed him on the cheeks and left leaving Alex in deep thought.
He felt conflicted. Partly felt he is betraying his parents by lying to them about violet just being a normal girl not knowing his powers and on the other hand not telling them Violet's whole family are supers.
A few days passed
Alex, slightly bruised and still recovering from past missions, insisted Violet should reveal her and her family’s powers to his parents.
Violet froze at the request. The thought terrified her — not because she didn't want to, but because she feared rejection, exposure, and dragging her family into something deeper.
She refused. The refusal hit Alex like a knife — he thought it meant she doesn’t trust him enough. They argued as Alex felt betrayed and under pressure, after a short while Violet almost shouted "I said NO. Stop asking!" Her voice louder close to a shout. He quieted down.
The night was quiet, too quiet for Alex. He sat with Violet, but the silence wasn’t peaceful. The air was filled with a silent tension— it was heavy, choking. He’d been holding it in, training secretly, pushing himself. He thought maybe tonight he could show her… but instead, their words turned sharp.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Violet?” Alex’s voice trembled with restrained anger. His wings twitched, his eyes flickering crimson.
“I’m not—” she stammered, but he cut her off.
“Yes, you are. Are you afraid of me Violet?” His wings flared, black bleeding into the feathers for the briefest second. His eyes burned red. “Afraid I might hurt you? That I lose control?”
Violet gasped and instinctively stepped back, her hand twitching toward a force field she didn’t even conjure. The damage was done. The sound of their relationship snapping was almost audible in the silence.
Alex froze, devastation spreading across his face.
“You are…” his voice cracked. “I knew it. After everything, you’re still afraid of me. I thought you saw me. The real me... Past all that. I knew this was bound to happen."
“No! Alex, I’m not—please, I didn’t mean—” Violet panicked, reaching out.
But Alex’s wings only darkened further, folding in close like a shield. “I can’t believe it. After all I’ve done for you, which I loved to by the way… you still see me as a monster. So, it was all lies then? I’m still just… a beast to you.” His voice was shaky, his heart being torn apart.
Violet’s eyes widened, tears brimming. “How dare you! Do you even hear yourself? You scared me, Alex! You’ve never done that before—not since—”
“Go on. Say it.” His tone went cold, tears burning in his eyes. “Since I almost killed you.”
She shook her head violently. “Stop it, please! You startled me, I wasn’t ready, I didn’t expect—”
“I’ve been training,” Alex almost shouted, stepping back. His wings unfurled in fury. “For you. To show you I can control this. To show you that I care. But I guess I was wrong.” A tear came down his cheek ” I’ll always be a monster.”
Before she could stop him, he blasted into the night sky, glass rattling in the windows.
The abandoned warehouse groaned with every impact. Steel beams bent; machinery toppled. Alex hurled a forklift across the hall, the crash echoing like thunder. His knuckles bled from punching through reinforced walls. Every breath he drew came out like a growl.
His wings tore through the air, gusts strong enough to shatter windows. He was a storm contained in one body, destroying everything in sight.
“Why… why can’t I be more than this?!” he roared, slamming both fists into the ground, leaving cracks spiderwebbing out from the crater. "Is this all I am?" He looked at the stars through the tall windows. "I'm talking to you. Is this who you wanted me to be? ANSWER ME" He shouted with tears as if God himself was listening
A screen flickered on an old TV, static giving way to a breaking news report. He turned it up. Flames, screams, and—wings. Another figure was attacking the city, calm, precise, deadly. No recklessness, no emotion. Only control.
Alex’s jaw clenched. It was the same winged figure in the lab that he defeated. Rage ignited his veins. His eyes glowed blood-red. He just wanted to unleash the storm inside. He suited up with rage and anger, teeth grinding and growling. Without running, without jumping, he simply lifted into the air. Glass rained down from every window, shattering at the sheer force of his takeoff.
---
It was chaos. People ran unable to understand why. At first, they thought it's soul feather but it was impossible. Soul feather didn't wear a black suit or sound like that.
"FACE ME SOUL FEATHER! Show your face."
" we're not afraid of you "A young teenager stood up among all that chaos." Well well, a brave one." the villain answered with a creepy grin on his face
" Your heroes are so afraid that a child must die in their place? "
" Soul feather will stop you. He'll beat you " the teenager answered his voice full of hope.
" Well, guess I'll have to start the party without him " Before the villain could strike, Alex flew at him like a bullet hitting him fiercely with his wings slamming him into the ground. People cheered happy to see him.
"You wanted me? HERE I AM" Alex growled loudly with hatred and rage his wings black and his rage uncaged making the cheers fade. "So, you're soul feather now... Weren’t much of a hero back in the lab.. You're just a stupid animal like every other superheroes. I'll kill every last one of you and be done with your pathetic existence." said the villain with anger and frustration.
"I don't give a damn about your motives. I just want to hit something as hard as I can." Alex’s fists tightened ready to fight.
"Let's finish this then" villain scowled.
The Battle Unleashed
They both collided with their wings making a huge wave on impact, terrifying people. Soul feather and the villain clashed as if their lives depended on it.
People started to step back not able to tell which one is more terrifying.
The Incredibles rushed to the scene, Frozone at their side. Buildings burned. Cars lay overturned. The winged man moved like a blade, every strike deliberate, every motion controlled. He was not reckless. He was merciless.
Bob and Helen threw themselves into saving lives. Frozone froze tumbling debris midair, Dash zipped children out from under collapsing walls. Violet’s heart pounded. She wasn’t helping with rescues — her eyes scanned the sky, searching for Alex.
And then she saw him.
A blur of black wings and fury slammed into the villain, both crashing through skyscraper glass. The two winged figures spiraled through the night, feathers scattering like falling stars.
The fight was brutal. Every punch was answered with another. Alex bled but didn’t stop — he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know how to. The winged man struck with deadly precision, snapping ribs, tearing flesh. But Alex struck with raw fury, wings hammering, claws raking.
After a storm of punches and wing strikes the ground quaked as they crashed into the street, asphalt exploding beneath them.
The villain gripped Soul feather by the throat, wings coiled like spears ready to stab down.
“I can see how other villains fell to you” he hissed. “But I won’t repeat the same mistake. Superheroes think they’re above everyone. But I’ll end them. I’ll end you. I’ll be the strongest, the only one.”
That enraged him. Thinking of Violet, he punched the winged villain with such a rage he almost broke his rib cage.
Before he could do anything, Soul feather grabbed him by the throat now raising him from the ground, his wings twitching with rage his eyes red "You are nothing. And the other villains? They were less than nothing. I'll kill you first. Then, I'll end every last one of you scum like flies" soul feather slowly raised the same wing tip he stabbed violet once, ready to make the kill.
"ALEX DON'T! You're not a monster! Please!" Violet screamed with desperation. Alex stopped for a second and put the villain on the ground still holding him by the throat.
"Alex please. Don't do this. Don't become... WATCH OUT" Violet screamed trying to warn him.
It was too late. Wings thrust forward—straight into Alex’s gut. Violet screamed as Alex's eyes turned back normal his gaze turned to the villain's smiling face.
"I told you I'll destroy you all. And you? A monster? please…" the villain laughed as he leaned close to Alex's ear for a second whispering "I’ll kill her first. You can watch."
Alex staggered, blood dripping from his lips. His eyes widened—then narrowed into a mad grin. He grabbed the wings where they pierced him, holding them in place.
“I AM the monster,” he rasped, voice low and terrifying. “You think you know strength? Let me show you.”
He pushed the wings deeper into himself, blood pouring, his grin feral, his growl shaking the spirit. The villain’s eyes widened in shock as Alex then began pulling at the base of his wings, muscles straining, bones threatening to snap.
Desperation set in. The winged man hammered his fists into Alex’s face, blow after blow—brutal, frantic, the kind that would’ve crushed any other man’s face. But Alex didn’t flinch. His head snapped back, blood spraying, yet every punch only pulled another guttural snarl from his throat.
He looked almost feral—smiling through the pain, teeth red, growling with each strike.
Not laughing. Not mocking. Just an animal savoring the blood, feeding off the violence.
The more his enemy punched, the harder Alex pulled, like the pain itself was driving his strength.
Violet couldn't do anything frozen in place.
Helen and Bob finally got to the scene. They inched forward, desperate to intervene. Alex whipped his head toward them, screaming:
“Stay back!” His jagged voice shook the street, made them flinch.
With Alex distracted, the villain took his chance, yanking free of Alex’s bloody grip and launching into the sky. Alex kneeled on one knee, his hand on the two giant wounds in his gut. Then he healed in bursts of rage, not fully — but enough to fly. “I’m not done with you yet”
With a roar, he shot after the villain.
Moments later, the night filled with sounds no one would forget. Terrified screams, violent crashes, and inhuman roars. The screams got more desperate, louder as if someone was begging. The city froze. Parents covered their children’s ears. Violet was ice cold knowing Alex has gone over the edge. The Incredibles searched, but only found feathers… and blood. Violet found a single feather among Alex's torn super suit, bloody but different. She went closer to touch it. It pulsed with her touch. Without telling anyone she took it with her disappearing into the shadows desperate to find Alex.
Finally, they discovered the villain’s broken body, wings ripped away like paper, blood everywhere. The man was unconscious but alive. Helen confirmed a pulse. The man had been… defeated.
But Alex was gone.
Violet clutched the black feather in her hand. It pulsed, vibrating, tugging her heart in a direction. She followed it into a dark alley, away from the others.
There he was. Alex, slumped against the wall, his whole body covered in feathers, wings black and torn, his body broken. His face shadowed, eyes glowing crimson. He looked less human than ever.
“Alex…” Violet whispered.
His head snapped up. He roared, the sound shaking her to her bones. “stay back!” bloody cough not letting him finish his roar, wheezing, his voice broken, desperate, more plea than threat.
She flinched but didn’t retreat. “I’m not leaving you.”
“I said stay. Back” his eyes glowed red, his voice not human anymore.
“Alex please I-“
“It’s too late” Alex cut her off.
He stepped forward painfully, light catching his monstrous face — feathers lined his cheekbones, his body armored in darkness. He shook his head, trembling.
“Look at me. Do you see?! I’m a monster! I’ve been a monster since that night." His voice although not human was shaky and desperate "Every morning I woke up fighting this, hiding this. And I thought… because of you… I could win. But I was a fool. This is who I am now.”
She moved closer
His voice cracked into a shout. “Don’t come near me! I don't want to hurt you!” Violet could see his fear. Of himself, and of what he had turned into.
Violet only stepped closer; her eyes filled with tears. “No. I see you. And I see the sadness behind all that rage. You’re not a monster, Alex.” She reached out. His hand jerked away.
“You can't love me. No one can. I saw how they looked at me. They were afraid of me... It's too late. I'll always be a monster” he whispered, broken, clinging his fists, teeth grinding, unable to cry chest moving faster than before.
“Maybe.” Her voice softened as she brushed her hand through the dark, stiff feathers lining his cheekbones. He flinched; his red eyes glistened with tears. “But you’re my monster.” Her eyes were fixed on his, and the tears finally came down her cheeks.
Then, before he could react, she kissed him, Fierce and desperate. His eyes widened. His wing tips scratched the asphalt as they moved out of his control. He stopped fighting, his muscles stopped shaking.
When she pulled back, he breathed heavily, the crimson fading from his eyes. Then he collapsed, sobbing into her arms. It was silent but loud, his black wings wrapping around her, shaking violently as he clung to her.
“I love you,” she whispered over and over.
The Parrs meanwhile, had arrived earlier, watching silently, Dash and Frozone holding Helen and Bob back until the right moment. Now, seeing Alex broken and calm, they approached them.
Alex noticed movement, panic flaring again. His body twitched, his wings shaking with rage once more, his eyes burning red and his chest heaving as he took Violet behind his wings as he barely stood. But Violet held him firm.
“It’s just them,” she whispered.
Helen and others embraced Violet feeling relieved.
He calmed down, turned away in shame.
"Alex?" Violet called him sensing something is wrong
“I put you all in danger. I’m a danger to everyone. I can’t—” Before he could finish Helen stretched out her arm, pulling him back into the family’s embrace. “You’re not going anywhere. Not alone.” They all held Alex making him feel alive again as his wounds slowly healed.
His rage faded. The black feathers began to fade, retreating into his skin. In seconds, all his monstrous armor vanished—leaving him completely bare.
Violet’s eyes went HUGE, and her face turned beet red, snapping her head to the side, but couldn’t help sneaking one look back.
“Ohmygod—”
“Ahhh, crap.” Alex, mortified, instinctively threw his wings around himself like a giant feathery cloak, “Don’t. Look.”
Dash couldn’t help it, bursting out laughing.
Bob tried not to laugh, but his shoulders shook as he laughed silently. Frozone smirked, “Cool suit, kid. Needs pants though.”
Violet still wouldn’t make eye contact, but there was this tiny smile tugging at her lips, betraying that… yeah, she definitely liked the view.
Helen, clapped her hands once going on maternal mode “Alright, let’s get him some clothes before this gets any more awkward.”
Alex kept his wings wrapped tight, muttering “…Kill me now.”
Frozone raised a brow, smirking. “Man, you really need to learn how to transform with style.”
The family exchanged awkward glances, some stifling chuckles, as Violet bit her lip and tried not to laugh—or admit that she’d liked what she saw.
By the time Alex finally had pants on and everyone stopped pretending they weren’t traumatized for life, the street felt… quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that usually came after a natural disaster or a family reunion.
The Parrs guided him out of the alley, Violet glued to his side like his personal emotional support shadow, and no one said much. What was there to say?
He had almost killed a man, almost lost himself, and then almost flashed the famous Incredibles.
Rough night.
They walked him back toward the ambulance lights and the half-repaired street, letting the silence settle naturally. Alex kept his eyes low, wings tucked tight, still embarrassed and still exhausted. Every step felt heavy, like the world had wrung him dry.
Violet slipped her hand into his. No words. Just warmth.
That alone kept him upright.
Then a voice came from behind all that noise: "Mr. Caddler?"
A man in a suit with a calm tone approached.
"Yes?" Alex answered.
"You have to answer some questions before you can go. Please follow me"
Before the Parrs could react, the man showed his badge before walking away, leading them to somewhere quiet where they could talk.
Alex followed. He didn't like what was coming.
It could be another monster for him to defeat, and his mind was already barely standing.
