AAOOOSC!: The Mission

Toews holds his breath.
There it is. His solution. His solution...to make all this chaos abate.
There it is, in his reach.
He is in a white, out-stretched room with only that solution and himself.
The solution though?
It is a button. A red button on a white podium that juts out from the white floor.
Toews looks at his hands, which are no normal-looking; they are glowing, glowing yellow with the powers he unwillingly had.
And now he can take them away.
Thanks to John.
He hovers his right hand over the button, rethinking whether he should do this or not.
John told him not to do it.
But what can John do?
With a sly smirk, he let his hand collapse on the button.
Click.
Toews witnesses the glow on his hands diminishing. And a few seconds later, his hands are back to normal.
He raises them in front of his face, examining them with inquiring eyes. He chuckles happily. "This is...yes..."
He then turns around, seeing Patrick behind him, who has a big smile on his face.
"Patrick, are your powers gone as well?" the captain asks his teammate.
"Yea, man, now we can play hockey normally, dude!"
His eyes light up. "That's right! Yea!"
"Great choice, Tazer man!" Patrick links arms with his captain and they both skip away from the button as best buddies.

"Great choice...great...choice..." Toews's eyes flutter open after he mumbled those words in his sleep.
He sits up in his dark room slumberously, realizing all of that he just experienced is just a dream.
He is in John's guest room where he has been sleeping in for the past few days after the Islanders' captain saved him from the EHP HQs. On his right is a window with its blinds shut, yet the moonlight is still seeping though the slits. To his left is the door, which leads straight to the hallway.
Before Toews fell asleep and dreamed of that, all that was on his mind is John's solution that could stamp out any power player's power that it made contact with. That included Toews.
But the only thing is that John hadn't tested it out yet...and John forbidden Toews to try it on himself--on top of that, he did not give Toews permission to go to his lab, where the solution is most likely being held in.
But his dream...it is like it is visualized the future, showing Toews what would happen if he takes the solution.
And how his dream was like...it was like the miracle cure to get rid of life's problems.
"Should I?" Toews mutters. "Should I not?" He cranes his head forward, seeing that the bedroom door is closed. "He said not to, but... Ugh, I swear, it'll work! I know it, I mean, what's the worse that can happen, right? And maybe he won't even know...he's asleep, right?"
Toews pulls the blanket and quilt off from his legs and slips off of his bed, standing up. He looks down, seeing the dark carpet beneath his bare feet and his PJs, which are sport shorts and a white T-shirt. He then cautiously walks over to the door and twists the handle slowly, pulling the door open. He slides into the hallway and tip-toes across the hallway and into John's room.
He peeks his head into the room, since John left his door ajar. Toews hears a series of snores and muttering, signalling him that John is in deep sleep.
He straightens up. "Okay." He continues walking down the hallway, until he reaches a small step. He steps down, facing a door that is made out of metal with a metal handle. He places his hand on the knob and tries to push it down, but it is stuck. "Oh no..." He looks to the right, seeing that there is a code that must be entered. Toews looks at the number pad that was below the small, narrow screen. He thought for a moment, then the numbers just randomly floated into his mind.
"9, 2, 0, 9, 0, 9, 1, 0, 9," he whispers out loud as he punches in those numbers.
The screen lights up green with small beeping sounds emitting out from the machine as the door makes a series of hissing sounds.
"No--!" Toews places his hands on the door, hoping that the door would stop making those sounds. And it did.
He turns the knob and pushes the door open; his eyes widen when he saw the room.
The room is white...and pretty effulgent. Despite its size, since it is a small room, it has numerous amounts of items in it.
To the left on the left wall is a large bookshelf full of thick books. To the right on the right wall are metal-barred shelves holding up fancy chemist equipment such as beakers, graduated cylinders, flasks. Against the wall that is across the room is a long desk that has more chemistry equipment and books sprawled across its top. There is a desk lamp casted aside to its left with piles of paper and a desk chair. Below the desk are a bunch of huge containers with labels that said titles such as 'hazardous' and 'biochemical.' Above the desk, hanging on the wall, is a large whiteboard scribbled with chemical formulas, math equations, rough sketches, and notes written in Greek.
Toews is just gawking at the room; he is in awe.
John Tavares, the captain of the New York Islanders, is actually serious about science and math.
Then his eyes land on something on the desk. He carefully approaches it, seeing a sealed flask with a cork stuffed in its opening; inside is a purple liquid, which could be easily mistakened as grape Gaterade. Written on a piece of paper that is taped on the flask's side is written 'PP Solution' in messy, capitalized handwriting.
"This is it," Toews says under his breath as he raises the glass container off from the desk and to his eye level.
He then freezes. Now what? How can he take it? Drink it? Take it as a shot? Touch it?
He lands his gaze back on the desk, seeing a piece of line paper that had been below the flask. He places the flask back down and takes the paper back in the air, reading it.

For Power Player Solution: Whatever you do, do not consume! The denouement will be noxious. Take with syringe.

"Nice. Now where are the syringes?" He looks around the room from where he is standing, until he spots a box on the right-side rack that had the words 'syringes' scribbled on the side in black.
He walks over to the shelf, takes down the box and places it on the desk. He opens up the flaps, seeing the neatly organized syringes lined up on styrofoam. He then reaches over to the left, grabbing the flask and pops the cork off, throwing that on the desktop. Toews then grabs a syringe, sticks the tip into the bottle so that its inside the liquid, then pulls up the plastic tab that is on the top of the syringe, sucking in the liquid into the glass tube.
Toews looks at the filled syringe with wide eyes while setting the flask down. "Just...a little bit...not too much...try it out...yes..." He could feel his heart going wild with his stomach twisting like someone twisting a wet rag. He then rolls up his left sleeve and presses the tip against his upper arm; with a deep breath, he pushes the syringe into his arm, feeling a little pinching. "You can do it, you can do it, your powers will be gone and you can go back home..."
Toews squeezes his eyes shut and presses down on the tab of the syringe with his thumb for a moment then pulls out the syringe. He looks at the liquid that is still inside; he must've put in at least a quarter of it. Toews just stares at the glass tube, waiting for something to happen.
But nothing happened.
An opened smirk grew on his face as he began to chuckle at the solution. "That...I...that wasn't too bad--"
Toews's left hand immediately flies up to his chest as he felt his airway close with his eyes widening. His hands begin to vibrate wildly, letting the syringe fly out of his right hand and crash onto the desk, spilling its contents. He then falls on his left side, but his right hand flailed in the air and smashed into the racks that are on his right side, bringing half of the equipment down on him.
He collapses on ground, landing on his back. His eyes are ase wide as saucers as he tries to breath and control his shaking, but he also found out that he couldn't move.
HEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLP!!!

Meanwhile, John absolutely hears all the commotion going on in his lab. He quickly sits up on his bed with wide eyes. "What in Pete's sake is going on?" He scrambles out of his bed, wearing blue and white striped PJs and rushes down the hallway, finding his lab door wide open.
John just stares at the scene in shock. "Someone obtained access to my lab!" He rushes down the step and into the room. He looks down to his right, seeing Toews struggling to breath on the ground.
"Oh my, kid!" He looks at his desk, seeing that the flask of his Power Player Solution is missing, well more like relocated, giving him the thought that Toews took the solution. He then turns around, seeing more racks of solutions that are next to the door. He grabs a flask that is in the middle, grabs a syringe that is stuck onto the side of the flask due to masking tape, and filled the syringe up with the clear liquid, He then slides behind Toews, lifting him up onto his lap and gave the shot to the Blackhawk.
Toews instantaneously settled down, going limp in John's arms.
John let out a huge breath of relief. "Why do you do this to me, Jonathan?" He cranes his head down, seeing Toews's eyes wide open, but he wasn't moving one bit. "Kid?" He straightens up, scanning the corner of his now messy room. "Eh, must be in the shock-state. Will wear off after a few minutes..." His voice fades as he sees his brown desk turning into a dark gray. He then sees that not only his desk turning gray but also the books on the bookshelf across the room, even his writing on the white board and all of the colourful solutions turned into different shades of gray. "Oh my..." He focuses his gaze down at himself, seeing that he is still in colour--it is just the room that was now black and white.
"What just happened?" John hears Toews mutter.
The Islander looks down at the Blackhawk. "Oh good, you're fine, Jonathan," he says sternly after a sigh of relief.
Toews gets off of John, sitting on the cold floor, surrounded by broken glass. He is quiet for a moment. "I'm...I'm sorry...I should've not had done that."
"I apprised you." John stands up. "I specially informed you not to do that and what do you do? The complete contrast! Why don't take heed in what I verbalize, Jonathan?!" He places his hands on his head. "Now you annihilated my lab!" He extends his hands in the air. "Well, not really, but still-- Only if you had listened to me." He shoots the captain of the Blackhawks a grave glare.
Toews just stares at the ground with droopy eyes and a frown. "I'm...sorry."
"Just go to your chamber; be thankful I noticed your cacophony else you would've been defuncted!" John pointed a finger at the lab's exit, staring at his apprentice.
With a soft sigh, Toews gets up and sluggishly exits the lab, walking up the black and white hallway and into his black and white room, closing his dark gray door behind him.
John watched Toews go up to his room, so he looks back at his wreaked lab. He starts to feel his power brew inside of him, connecting his intense emotions to the weather. "Why black and white...?" He walks over to his desk and collapses on his desk chair in deep thought. He is able to hear the thunder and pelting of rain going on from outside since he is very frustrated. "That solution...must've affected Toews power since he can practically manipulate anything...and contrived everything like this... But why just the setting being black and white and not us as well? Hmmm..."

Notes