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The storm had raged for three relentless days, hammering the windows of The Fuse Box with wind and driving rain. Inside, the air hung thick with ozone and the bitter scent of scorched metal. Flickering strip lights threw frantic shadows across the walls, and every few minutes, a deafening *CLANG* shuddered up from the basement as another circuit gave way. Carter stood braced before the main panel, his hands trembling as he reset a tripped breaker for the fifth time in an hour. His steel-blue eyes were sunken, dark circles carved deep beneath them like trenches. The wire-like strands of his black-and-grey hair sparked weakly, frizzed with static. Across the room, Zephyr leaned against the doorframe, his electric-blue gaze burning with a volatile mix of fury and dread. His white hair crackl…