ã€ŠI Am Rage {Superhero, Action, Tragedy}ã€‹


 Prologue: The Longest Day

    ¡®11 minutes. 10 times. Expected clear time¡­¡¯

    A rushing wind streaming around her. A distant thunder beating the low ends not deafened by the buffet. Yells from below ignored because they were not for her and there was every reason to not slow down. Everyone had their orders, their place. There was no time for distractions. Her mind racing as is, at the implications imparted onto it. Repeating the message given over and over so it couldn¡¯t be forgotten.

    No older than sixteen and already at the front, already flying as fast as she could for longer than she¡¯d ever managed. Face reddening from the strain, muscles whining their issues. But this was no place to train, only to give everything and then some. Tents and concrete and sand and beaten earth, all spread out below her as landscape coopted. An armyscape of proportions unheard yet demanded. Stretching a mile deep between her and her goal, and for miles upon miles to either side.

    Her dirty blond hair, tied up and flowing behind her, caked in dust kicked up by the trains of movers and carts running their courses. No time to shower it off or even keep it straight, no time to rest until it was someone else¡¯s turn to run intel to wherever it was needed. Her suit of meshed and plated metal faring just as filthy. Fiber colored and camouflaged grey simply because that was how it came, color required time no one had. And all of it signified with a haphazard velcro patch shaped like an ancient hoplite¡¯s shield. Her own responsibility, her own moniker. She was a super, a hero of the League pressed into service, and she had a dire message to deliver.

    ¡¯11 minutes. 10 times. Expected clear time¡­¡¯

    Her destination was impossible to miss, impossible to even think of when all this started. Its bulk ceasing this military industrial sprawl with a sudden vast slab of metal, concrete, and gunpowder. A wall, The Wall, towering over everything. And sucking up all the output of this vast egregious effort. Whether it was materiel¡­ or meat for the grinder.

    Triple wide stairs zigzagged up its back, the right side filled to the brim with soldier and supply, the left barren and awaiting the inevitable evacuation. Between them ran rail and pulley lines, tubes and ropes, end points for all that concrete and cart traffic. Clanking at the wall¡¯s back with no hope of an end till the next shift was whistled in. The whir of machinery, of grunted effort, of powered purpose dominating everything. But not a single joule or watt allowed or had. Because those could be rent away.

    At horrific cost.

    Her final stop was upon her though, the raised lip of the wall not an obstacle expecting her. She focused, remembering what her mother taught her about stopping.

    ¡® ¡±Visualize all that thrust you¡¯ve been using. How it¡¯s been moves you about. Then reverse it slowly but surely in whatever way feels right. And don¡¯t worry about looking dumb doing it. It¡¯s better than smashing into the ground at 90 miles an hour.¡± ¡¯

    She did what she had been told, felt that all-over push she¡¯d imparted upon herself. That back filling flow like the air around her was hers and hers alone. Then let it abate and slowly press back opposite. Velocity gradually lowering but not decelerating enough, so she pulled her feet up and revisualized that thrust. A countering push to desperately keep her from overshooting her landing. Feet skimmed the helmets of the soldiers resting against disregarded defense, hoping for reprieve but receiving sudden air rippling startle. She stumbled in the drag, decelerated too fast and off balance. Kevlar boots missing the plastic shell strewn metal of her own hope and squeaked out over plexiglass revile. The clear coated platform turned landing strip hanging over the far end of the wall. Over the hell that it must keep back.

    She fell forward and caught herself from tumbling end over end. Yet was stuck looking down at the darkness that the wall¡¯s shadow created. The shadow that paled in comparison to the vantablack stain that crawled up its surface below her. She forced her head away, but could not avoid the town beyond, the one sacrificed to this needed attrition. Just as stained, but truly lost to the horrors out there.  Her breath caught as she remembered her first time seeing them. The way it had ripped its way up and over, the way its scaly skin boiled, the look on its face as it refused to just die¡­ But she had to stop. She had to focus. The message.

    ¡®10 minutes. 10 times. Expected clear time¡­¡¯

    She picked herself up and rose to meet its recipient. His back was turned and nearly blocked out the entire horizon. A similar suit of woven metal and fiber just as dirty if not worse. Plates coated in Kevlar and topped off with a symbol reminiscent of the very wall he stood upon. His burnt orange hair short but haggard. If not for the cordite and ash that dominated her senses, she would have winced at the implications already clear. He hadn¡¯t left his position in days.

    ¡°Dad!!¡±

    The man, towering over even the soldiers watching on behind her, turned to face his daughter. With a smile almost unfitting.

    ¡°Aegis! What news has come?¡±

    His booming tone, his defiant boisterous, everything about him was joyous in demeanor. Denying every bit of dire catastrophe that permeated the air. But still his face could hide none of the fatigue draped over it. His orange hued eyes were bagged and laden from days without meaningful sleep. His beard was scraggly, unshaven, and blackened with dust and powder charge. His suit was torn, scratched, and stained with old blood. Both no doubt his own and too many others¡¯.

    And yet still he smiled. Beaming down at his daughter without a care for anything but what had been put before him.

    ¡°This is serious! We have a swarm coming that-¡±

    ¡°Good!!¡±

    The man took an even more proud stance.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting all day for some action!¡±

    ¡°NO DAD!!!¡±

    The girl gritted her teeth like this was far from the first time, staring into his eyes and demanding his attention more than his praise.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t like the other ones!! They said it¡¯s likely to be in the tens of thousands!! Like the entire damn cordon is falling on us!!!¡±

    She was wide eyed, she couldn¡¯t keep back the tears in her eyes, couldn¡¯t let him just brave this news out like it meant nothing. The soldiers listening on behind her mirroring her horror. They knew what awaited them, they knew it first hand, but to hear it out loud only lifted their fear up past what meager resolve they still clung to. The man knew as much, and bent down to his daughter¡¯s glare. His own desperate to quiet this fact.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay Aegis.¡±

    His boom turned to low reassurance and a hand pressed down on her shoulder. Down on that pain trying to come before it was real.

    ¡°We can handle it. We¡¯ve handled every swarm before. We will handle this one too. Don¡¯t you start doubting yet.¡±

    He released, rose back up, and brought back up the joyous command he offered against the storm brewing before them. The rock unbreakable that will weather it for them.

    ¡°Now! Go inform the squad leaders! Send the news down the line! We need to be ready!¡±

    She stared back at him, still unconvinced, but swiped away at the streaks on her face and turned away. The soldiers that had gathered up all looked to her, insignias slapped on helmets the only needed symbol. More plates of metal and kevlar bulking up their profiles into grey and black blobs, but they knew it was little more than desperate hope. The matte black auto shotguns resting every which way their more immediate deterrent, the smell of cordite and magnesium covering up every other possible stench. They stared back with tired eyes, with blank stares that could see for miles and yet see nothing but what their memories held. This conflict had gone on too long already. And showed little sign of ending.

    ¡°Recon says a wave¡¯s coming in 10. The numbers look to be 10 times the norm. And¡­ the expected clear time is¡­ tomorrow at the earliest!¡±

    Those looks deepened. Waves had stayed strong for hours before, demanded everything they had before. But a whole day was something beyond realistic. Something too much for them to-

    ¡°AEGIS!!!¡±

    All heads turned back, her father back standing tall at the center of his platform without a hint of fatigue left to exude. Arms staunch at his hips, stature hardened against the backdrop of the hell beyond. Against¡­ Against an ever building column of smoke and dust.

    ¡°BETTER MAKE THAT 5!!!¡±

    Her heart, the world, the whir of the safety still waiting behind. All of it sank and drowned in the deep, beaten down by the rumble carrying up over all existence. The soldiers behind didn¡¯t wait for the order, for confirmation or clear lines of sight. Leaders running down their lines and shouting with everything they had.

    ¡°GUNS UP!!! GUNS UP!!!¡±

    The rails and pulleys squealed to life, yanked their payloads up into place. Skeletal turrets clanking up from the safe lip, crossing and being pushed into locking positions on the far side. Gunners clambering onto controls, pulled triggers to test spool their rotors for all the spring tension left over. Cannons needing every bit they had. Boxes brought up alongside, slotted into their bases with gears locking together and tightened by denser springs. Mechanical batteries of the deepest desperation. Because motors and currents were not long for this shrinking world.

    The girl knew she was in the way of this tightly wound choreography, of fresh defenders pushing forward to their dreaded places, but could barely bring herself to pull away. Fear driving her back and forth between helping and running. Her duty fighting better and focusing her back to that safe lip. Throwing her off the wall, yet keeping her there low and hovering over that edge.

    ¡°SWARM SPOTTED!!! GREEN 10!!!¡±

    Spotters ran from their forward positions and flipped placards on the safe side, nine green with one flipped to red. Signals seen by all those stretching out behind, but looked to more especially by those farthest back pits. Thuds soon rising over the eroding rumble, the girl turning to that militarized expanse to see sequenced puffs of artillery fire from those farthest reaches. The ordinance screaming over, a continuous stream of screeching fire as frequent as the crews could produce it.

    It drove her low, hanging on to that lip with her head scrunched hard. Against the cacophony that this war had wrought. She could feel the rumble through the metal, the torrential stampede tearing toward them, even as the beat of the shells thundered against it. She could feel it all through the wall, this defiant drum getting beaten against. Every strike eating away at the resolve of those charged with its defense, yet still even she couldn¡¯t take the cowering uncertainty. Her head pulled back up, worry splattered on her face as she look out to those awaiting.

    At the fresh replacements tight upon their positions. At the immediate reserves braced to the edge she clung to. At the turrets squealing to life in preparation. And at her father as he shot out his arms over those crossing shell tracers. With the true defiance of a hero indefatigable.

    The far side of the wall started to glow in orange backlight, brighter and brighter till it was undeniably there. Spreading for as far as she could see down the wall¡¯s inward curve. For the miles upon miles that this wall had been placed. As the innocuous guard upon his arm sprang to prominence almost undo. Glowing its own defiance into all this expenditure.

    Curiosity too much to bear, the girl rose up higher, shakily hovered to bear witness to this inordinate extent. The artillery keeping her flight low but awe denying even this danger. She saw, for as far as even her eyes could see, a massive field of translucent orange follow this wall¡¯s outer edge. A wall upon a wall to block this hell¡¯s advance. A power she held as well, yet never knew its true breadth. This kind of extent in all that she had been taught. But just as quickly her awe was battered, as the rumble became the physical manifestation of that hell.

    Under a backdrop of fiery white smoke shot, beneath torn skyward ground, the land ceased to remain static. Monstrous reptilian things of nightmare made real. Ravenous to a fault yet unable to be sated. Nearly unkillable as their wounds merely regrew no matter how terminal. And now¡­

    Now numbered beyond counting.

    The ruins beyond clawed to dust in their wake, the stampede too close for that drum to hold still, their roars tearing through the last of what resolve remained. As they echoed into the stratosphere to say that no one would escape them. The wall heaved and shook as the leading edge clawed up it, like a freak wave had struck it and yet kept going. Solid metal, concrete, and defiance meaning nothing to them. All being ripped apart in their single minded quest up. But finding no purchase as it finally hit its crest. As it finally hit that miraculous orange barrier of hopes truest last.

    Scaled horrors piled up, crushed against it and one another. Claws rent metal and flesh alike without regard or care, but were stopped by the barest millimeter of purest energy. Of purest invulnerability. All hopes seeing, finding one good hold, bending that wave over to crash back upon itself. To toss back those horrors into their own and let them roil and boil themselves alive. But realism stymied even this. The man was its source, its caller and holder. They could rampage for eternity and a day. But he could only keep it up for so long. And yet¡­This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    And yet his haggard state seemed to be the least of his worries. The least of all there ever was to care for. A soft utterance underscoring the hellish scramble, drawing away his rather needed attention away to-

    ¡°Today¡­ today? Hmmm.¡±

    His thoughts clearing as to his ultimate goal. Raising his head back up and unsheathing from that softness to rise to the boom that carried over all. To carry all to what must be done!

    ¡°Today!! Today we will fight!! Today we will bleed!! We will suffer and strain against what wrath has brought against us!!¡±

    Soldiers too caved and clung to their guns, to the sights aligned on the roiling hell below them¡­ held back. Looked up toward the boom like nothing else mattered but his words. Like it was all that there was left in this world made utterly small.

    ¡°But WE do not just fight for ourselves!! Not just for the brothers and sisters standing beside us!! We fight for everyone that stands behind us!!!¡±

    The man raised his head higher, the boom drowning out everything beyond. The entire section of the wall now looking toward him, unable to turn away.

    ¡°Today we fight for the miles behind us!!! For the people depending on everything from us!!!¡±

    Those looks tightened, some resolve rising through the murky shell shocked surface.

    ¡°Today we fight to give them back their safe and happy lives!!! To give them back their hope for a brighter future!!!¡±

    The girl landed down on the lip of the wall, taking in her father¡¯s words so that they would drive her own fear away as well. And feeling her heart beat race louder than even those claws wanting it shredded.

    ¡°Today we put fire to scale!!! We throw back fear and strife to stand firm against that which seeks our end!!!¡±

    ¡°TODAY!!!¡±

    A flare unfathomable.

    ¡°We will show them THEY!!!¡±

    Those grips becoming iron.

    ¡°Will never again threaten this world!!!¡±

    And those guns spooling up to blister and locking on to everything needing obliterating below.

    ¡°So today!!! May be the longest day!!! Of any of our lives!!!¡±

    ¡°BUT TODAY!!!¡±

    ¡°WILL BE THE LAST DAY OF THEIRS¡¯!!!!¡±

    The wall erupted, yells of thousands meeting to beat out those hellish roars for all the air they stole. The girl yelling in kind as the man threw his arms down, as the barrier opened its abominable contents up to the waiting storm of incurable fire. The pounding of metal and meat and existence to dust. All of it torn asunder in the cacophonous roar of courage defiant. Blazing the path into that wanted future. With burning magnesium and rapid fire death.

    Clunking and chewing. Revving and ravaging. Ripping and tearing till all was made deaf. Till drums ran empty and barrels melted down. Till muscle was worn to ribbons and being weathered to nub. Till that shield flared again to cut that dread flow, allowed the next in line to pour their souls into the cauldron and renew this cycle again and again and again!!

    For hours upon hours, till light failed its stay in the sky. Remaining dirty and wicked across that immovable expanse. Stars of glittering hellfire down, burning flesh to char and char to black. Refusing healing factor and multitudinous resistance. Chafing that edge refusing to bleed dry, every time the barrier let them have it. Lighting up this their square of night, refused its true darkness. The forests ablaze refusing it that totality anyway. Screeching beats of artillery stymie never relenting. Not till the light in the sky out shone the inferno they started.

    Till shift after shift took their turn at that front. Rose from those steps and set fire to scale. Descending at the call, as that barrier held terror at bay. Reprieve barely a consideration as the storm started up again. Echoing righteous damnation and torturous screams, despite the depth of their stalwart baffling screen. Refusing them sleep even as night turned day.

    Whole divisions rotated like cannon barrels with no relief allowed. Whole turrets thrown over the side as their heat threatened cook off of whole sectors behind them. Cannon shot under capillary action running with no output but a trigger pull, factories refusing to relent for even a moment¡¯s safety stoppage. They all knew what awaited them if the fire ever ceased. So down they went, adding weight to dragon¡¯s breath rebuttal. Adding spewing output to the deluge of death, detonating once the flow was allowed no danger close. Another turret already wheeled into place from countless stockpiled behind. No time, no rest, only keeping them back. Till there was nothing left to fight but dust and ash.

    Till the shots died down in slow methodical order. Till roars were ceased in a hail of ¡°You shall not pass!!!¡± Those claws and clambers reversed and wailing. Refutation too pure and complete for how long it took to come across. Maddening still as losses always appeared far too one sided. They would heal. They would live. If they chose to come piece meal then they would die true deaths. But massed as such, assurance of attrition remained impossible. The void at the base of the wall simple given a new coat of black. All that remained of their flash desiccating corpses. While the soldiers and heroes had to try and bury what was left of their dead.

    Those unlucky, those unwilling, those lost to the sea that crashed against this metal shore. Dragged away and eviscerated. Clawed to oblivion before fire could run its course. Eaten alive in the moment of lapsed focus it took. Blood drenched armor or turret scaffolding, horror locked faces catching the spray. All they could do was tally and write them off, count who made it down so they knew who was just¡­ gone.

    Lost¡­ in the quiet that returned in horrific order. Like this storm had never happened and the sun had never set. As air caustic and defiled was sucked away in droves. Burning lungs and eyes with a stillness that told them they were still alive. That theey had made it through the night, through a day overlong. And the dawn had come and burned high into the sky. For whatever this effort was even worth anymo-

    ¡°HOLD ONE!!! GREEN 5!!!¡±

    A spotter¡¯s yell cracking that blessing and depriving silence. Killing what rest and relief could be had in their sector. Guns rewound, shoulders pressed in tight, eyes scanning every crack and crevice from the black to the tree line. Looking, watching, dreading what came next. A cascade of roars to repeat this all over again. More scrambling claws wanting to be feed. But none saw what he had. What he had locked on to too hard to look away. Breaths trying to meter, to not blow precious oxygen away before it was taken in. And all eyes on him as no one else could find his reason.

    ¡°Spotter!! What did you see!?¡±

    A lieutenant just up the line, demanding but keeping her tone below triggering. Glare smoldering with the prospect that her soldiers were losing their grip on reality. Tightening too hard when all they got out of him was their continued attempt to not hyperventilate.

    ¡°w-Wait One!¡±

    They relented, let binoculars see nothing but the lip of his position, let his eyes blink away the faulty reality they dared to call out. To ensure with true intent that what he saw was What. He. Saw. A deep torturous breath pulling him back into the far reaches of his sector, the far side of this shadowed wasteland, all the way to¡­ to¡­!

    ¡°MOVEMENT IN THE OPEN!!! GREEN 5 AT 600 YARDS!!! CIVILIAN SPOTTED!!! IT¡¯S A KID!!!¡±

    All tension, all terror, all eyes shot to and a fore. All spotters gave up their duties and scanned to that one narrow spot. And one by one they-

    ¡°AFFIRM!!!¡±

    ¡°AFFIRM!!!¡±

    ¡°AFFIRM!!!¡±

    Till the doubts at the impossible were dashed to smithereens. The lieutenant scrambling toward her spotter, gripping the lip and daring to think of snatching those eyes away for her own selfish need to see. Looking out at the imperceptible speck on the edge of her vision. Looking but failing to see what they saw, but knowing it was true by too many means. And dreading with all left watching on at the thought of a child out there.

    ¡°What are they doing? What is their status!?¡±

    ¡°Un- Unknown ma¡¯am. Too far to be sure. But their walking¡­ Their walking right into the spider holes!¡±

    The lieutenant reeled back, procedure blaring at her and cutting the fear just bucketed over her head.

    ¡°Get- GET ME A-¡±

    ¡°GET MY DAUGHTER BACK UP HERE!!!¡±

    The boom terror shattering, almost deafening in its demand. And completely unwarranted as the girl heard her father¡¯s call clear from the line behind. She had never left, moving physical batteries up and dropping barriers when the worst called for it. She had added her own strength to the mountain proved unassailable, but now was face to face with what could only be upon her. Could only be done by a flyer like her.

    ¡°Dad?! Are you ins-¡±

    The man was over her and frantic despite another day of neglected rest. Hands pressing to her shoulders before she could even think of backing away from this.

    ¡°Listen to me Aegis. Listen to me! You¡¯re the only one here. The only flyer for too gods damn long a trip to get someone else. Because that child out there is only a few minutes away from disappearing down one of those monstrosity¡¯s gullets! I know this is too much to ask, and your mother will kill me for it, but this can only be done by you!¡±

    Her eyes met his in paired, orange hinted horror. The thoughts between shared in gruesome detail, in loss and duty and pure familial want to stay here. But the truth was apparent, maddeningly demanding. She was all there was¡­ And hesitation was costing time no one could stand. So she gripped an arm holding her down and nodded all the courage she had left to give. Even as her entire body refused to stop shaking. But the man still refused to just let her go.

    ¡°Remember! You pop your dome at the first noise you hear!  I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s rubble or gas or a butterfly dying of a heart attack! You pop that dome!! And we¡¯ll rain all we have upon it so nothing can dare test your resolve! You understand?!¡±

    ¡°I-I do¡­ I¡¯ve got this!¡±

    ¡°Then go! Fly!! Stay high till your right over them!! And put me and your mother to shame!!!¡±

    With no restraint and no resistance, the man grabbed hold of her arm and flung her into the air. Sending her careening into muscle memory from all the times he¡¯d done it before. Except now it was real. Now there was no turning back.

    The air cut away in her path, thrusted back off her in continuous ram jet. Rippled off of her as she tore toward the tree line. Toward some poor stupid kid that was wondering into a nightmare made real.

    She could see him just a few blocks into the obliterated town. The craters and rubble piles made mincemeat in shadow. Every surface facing the wall riddled and pockmarked. What structure remained was caved in or carved out. And demanding all she had not to just stay hovering above it all. Above the darkness seeping and licking its wounds.

    But the kid, the little boy just walking, staggering, into their midst. He demanded far louder than anything she could imagine. His jacket was frayed, his shoes just shy of falling apart, his hat hanging low as his head swayed about. A walking stick just barely able to keep him upright. He was not long for the bipedal world, or any world thereafter. She had to go. And she had to go now!

    She hovered lower, thrust just enough to counter gravity¡¯s draw. But still less enough to sink in slow order. She couldn¡¯t announce her presence, couldn¡¯t call out to keep him from startling off what balance he had. But all she had was herself and the sky. And a shadow to cast over.

    She saw him stop, draw back and scan wide. He¡¯d seen it but couldn¡¯t grip to its reality. So scared and so alone he was jumping even at the slightest dark corner. So even this needed one tiny quiet push.

    ¡°No, up here.¡±

    Her whisper was as true zero to water. He froze in place and looked up to behold. His face dirty and disheveled by ash, but his eyes truly lost in their own moment¡¯s lapse.

    ¡°Hey! This is NOT the time to be daydreaming!¡±

    She had to be harsh, had to snap him out of even this grand relief. They were too far out and too close in. And the clock was ticking toward the inevitable no one could withstand.

    She shot down to arm¡¯s length, reached down in the purest demand. Armored glove saying take hold and never ever let go.

    ¡°Take my hand quick, we need to get out of here!¡±

    Saying it too loud to hear anything else. Deafening sense already worn down to its core. As that walking stick was let go of at that demands beckoning call. Letting it fall to the ground blasted as it was. To the gutting, hollowing, hellraising *thunk*.

    A sound that echoed through her mind and through his eyes. Though ever crack and cave torn out of this no-man¡¯s wallow. Though every dark corner and creeping black edge. And through every eye opening back up to the light.

    Maws a glisten with fat laden char. Ashen and caked in what constituted their bleed. Claws as wide as each of their heads, knives rutting every surface they pulled themselves from. Scales greyed if not for the blackness of their wounds, the only sure sign that they could be killed. And the worst of it all staring back at their horror. Those eyes locked in emotion unfounded, unworthy of what they have done to this world. A green desperate shine creeping from a doorway facing them too bright to not-

    *RRRRRAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH*

    The air shattered, the world shattered. All life shattered but for what moved on its own. Her hands whipping out like her heart and mind beat them to syncretic. A shape burned into her mind¡¯s eye through every trained repetition pushed without thought. Her feet scathing asphalt and rubble apart in defiance of friction¡¯s limits. Thrust and making distance irrelevant in instants. As power came forth to her beck and her call. Her own finest millimeter, that thinnest expanse, a dome of orange will yelling ¡°NO!!!¡± The deep down knowhow pulling it straight out of her skull. Because it was either that or die screaming for the instant it took to-

    *BBBBBWWWWAAKKK*

    For the instant it took for that monster to close the distance. And slam that barrier like a freight train on crack. To smash its own skull apart in vain ravenous need. To shatter its teeth and claws upon her physical ¡°Go fuck yourself!!¡± To break every bone it had for no other reason than a want to eat her and this poor kid alive.

    And then the rest hit, and that bravado caved away.

    Maw after maw, claw after claw, a sea of bodies swallowing them whole. All of it she could feel slam into her will. Smash themselves to pieces upon a numb part of herself. Obliterate their means to live for the chance to eat their fill. And yet reform in defiance of this defiance for all the good hope was. Teeth gnawing, claws scraping, bodies upon bodies pressing in and down. Crawling over each other and throwing themselves atop her dome. Wanting it all for themselves, wanting everything this world had, wanting nothing but to rip and tear and kill and kill!!

    And yet¡­

    And yet all of them stared with eyes too human. Of every shade and color nature provided. With undeniable emotion blaring outward like it was all they knew. Fear and horror. Sadness and desperation. Laughter. Fucking laughter like this wasn¡¯t a hell of their making!

    But still she knew, she couldn¡¯t get what her mother had told her out of her head. The thought and possibility that all of them were people. All of them were from some far off town in the center of this madness. And now they were all swarming over them, her and this kid. Her and this poor kid who had probably seen far worse. Seen the gruesome trails and burned out husks. Knew the smell of the blood and the weight of knowing too much. Heard the screams, heard the roars, heard the streaking wail of-

    Of the artillery incoming!

    She braced, she breathed, she held back all comers. Because what was raining down was worse than hellfire. White phosphorous knowing no semblance of discrimination. Shells bursting over and bracketing burning shrapnel that will burn eternally till there was nothing left to burn. The first strike pouring death over top of one side, bashing away the ravenous and lighting bones to on fire. Dashing away those unlucky of placement, streaking with white caustic smoke and writhing to the ground. Until their healing could no longer stand. Till their own fucking inevitability took hold. And all the cancerous shit that made them up finally burst apart!!

    Meat on bones splattering to dust. Molecules breaking down and tearing apart from their excessive pressures. Whatever the cause, whatever the reason, they deserved to die in the worst way possible! As a stain of black across the landscape they dared claimed! As dust in the wind to be forgotten for all time! Yet still it marred all it touched. Still it clung to every surface. Even that millimeter of orange will above her turning dark in the rain.

    The strike scouring them away, driving those unwilling to die as they deserve back into the shadows they crawled out of. Back into the nightmare that just wouldn¡¯t end. But was refused in bright shining death for all of them! Till all of their roars, till all of their wails, till all of their screaming juxtaposed eyes were told to get the fuck away and stay away! To go and die in your holes!!

    Till there was nothing left but a girl holding up the sky and a boy on the ground. No sound but her heart filling every space. No smell but the garlic burn of phosphorous denial. No light but what could tear at the darkness dusting over her shield. The shield she released so that dusting was upon them. The grit and grumble refuted with demanded immediacy. Swiveling her about to scoop the poor kid up onto her shoulder. To lurch down and demand every bit of thrust she had to get her the hell out of here! Trailing black in streaking comet tail through the chocking white smoke, feeling it all seep and sap at everything she held dear. Numbing her to the world it was thoroughly denied. Feeling it fall away as she faced the wind in full, denied her denial of its friction so this black stain could be torn all away.

    So it could fall as rain from hands and heads. Flutter apart in the aerials of their passing. Stain those hands left powerless in the wake. As the past was forever stained in the ash and dust of those left behind.

    Of all those that he left behind.

 Chapter 1: Just Another Day

    The faint flicker of memory coming from the heat beating against a pale face. The sun was as high as August would allow it to be, but that was stopped at the brim of his United Armors cap. No, this was industrial. Steel, additives, and ever burning kilns giving it a bite. Hazel eyes wanting to water and nose wanting to get away from this entrance to hell. But this was manageable, barely able to get past his work clothes. This was tame, and nothing like what Seth had seen so long ago.

    The Fedor Smeltery Co., the only small order foundry in the Kadia area. That, technically, could work with exotic orders. It was kind of unusual for them to take cash, but business was slowing down and the money was good. The materials certainly raised eyebrows though, yet few batted an eye. Seth was known around, seen regularly and made less conspicuous orders before. So if he was asking, and paying, it wasn¡¯t much of a problem. He just had to wait a bit, which wasn¡¯t really an issue either.

    An idle gaze wandering about kept him busy. The bright glow of molten metal waiting to be poured. The hiss of it as it flowed into mold after mold. The clanks and strikes of it hitting the stations laid out beyond. The baths of chemicals, oils, and cooling water. The extruders for more specialized shapes. The guy wearing little more than a tank top and heavy leather pants as he dragged a crane down its rail like a stubborn puppy.

    And so the finer details all come in.

    Half of that melting glow coming from a woman breathing fire into the open side of a blast furnace. Squealing pulleys were man handled by a team of two men way too nonchalant to not be wearing protective clothing around said blast furnace. And at least a few of those clanks out the back were full on strikes of metal being shorn in half, by someone with a propensity to mold metal with their mind. Because well¡­ Why have big, heavy, expensive, machinery when you can get a super to do this stuff. And all that costs is labor.

    But it was always a bit of a sad sight. The ones who didn¡¯t have enough going for them to be heroes. The ones who flunked out or never cared to try for a position in the League. But it was also certainly a better landing than most. Because at least they get to be recognized for their powers. They get to use them to help after all. They get to-

    ¡°¡­huhh¡­¡±

    Seth didn¡¯t need to stay long thankfully, just picking up his order and head out. Let the past waft over like so much ash. Let that heat just remain a mundane fire. The foreman was already on his way too. Trudging out from the metal stacks with three workers in tow, a heavy trolley bearing a pile of matte grey bars weighing all four of them down. A funny coincidence, or just a bit of office politics that none of them were supers. Either way Seth met them halfway to save them at least some trouble.

    ¡°Welp!¡±

    The foreman stopped thankful and haggardly picked up his clipboard from the trolley.

    ¡°Fifteen hundred pounds of¡­ whatever you want to call this, ready and cooled.¡±

    Seth went over and picked up a bar. It was heavy, felt slightly brittle and flaky to the touch, but it was conductive as hell and exactly to the specifications. He finally smiled with a little pride at getting this right on the money. And maybe from being a little conscientious about the sourcing. Who doesn¡¯t like a good bit of recycling.

    ¡°It¡¯s perfect, and you were even able to make some extra.¡±

    One of the workers sneered a little.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty easy to melt trash together if-¡±

    ¡°IF there is anything else you need, just ask.¡±

    The foreman handed the clipboard over to Seth for his signature as that comment washed over.

    ¡°Nope this is more than enough. But¡­¡±

    Seth handed the signed board back from over the still held bar of melded scrap. A slight tinge hitting the back of his mind over shadowed by a little bit of pity.

    ¡°If I were you, I would look to diversifying your outputs. Something tells me you¡¯re going to be down a few major customers in the coming years.¡±

    And now the foreman was leering at him.

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡±

    Seth put his taken bar down and put a hand on the trolley¡¯s rail as that tinge smoldered.

    ¡°Well the armorers in Kadia are starting to lose customers for uh¡­ obvious reason, and likely won¡¯t be maintain their current sales figures by the end of the year. And once that happens, the stocks start to dip, the investors lose interest, so suddenly the whole industry is staring at a major downturn. It¡¯s just better to diversify now so you don¡¯t get sucked down with them.¡±

    All four men stared at him like he just turned green, but Seth just shrugged off the indignation from without¡­ and within.

    ¡°Just some off hand advice.¡±

    ¡®And a few too many voices trying to have a say.¡¯

    He started to pull at the trolley, but the foreman went to help.

    ¡°W-wait, we at least need to help get that back to United.¡±

    Seth smiled again like none of the slight inner turmoil mattered.

    ¡°Nah, I got it.¡±

    And pulled the near one ton trolley along behind him with nothing but a metal warping groan from it. Momentum already rolling up to brisk without so much as a grunt as it wheeled from between the awestruck workers.

    ¡°Besides, this is all mine to play with! I¡¯ll bring the cart back later though! And thanks again!¡±

    Seth swiveled his new load around, pressing sure and matching movement to it till inertia crashed the handle into his waiting palm. Not even eliciting a pang or outright snapping his wrist apart as he pushed it out onto the wide sidewalks of this industrial district proper. The district full of self-contained fire and clanking manufacture. The district brimming with factories towering or squat. The district trying not to belch smoke and smog out to the wider air, but could only do so much as cost could take. The district that he called home.

    Pushing his borrowed cart down the street like it was nothing more than a big unwieldly shopping trolley drew plenty more looks. Thankfully this place was designed so materials could be transported like this if needs be or distance wasn¡¯t worth the gas mileage. Few slopes, level sidewalks with short barrier curbs demarking them. Plenty of space and plenty of loading ports. A lot of good done with just some set planning involved from the get go.

    A few of other work yards and offices he passed gawked, though it¡¯s not like this was unexpected these days. Every so often another cart just as, or more laden than reasonable, passed by as well. Supers were common enough staples, he just probably didn¡¯t cut the picture of one. Least of all with an armorer¡¯s logo over his head. But the smile on his face was too much to be stifled by awkwardness. It¡¯d been a while since he had shown off, work was keeping him plenty proud as it was.

    Watching more mundane trucks full of supplies and manufactured goods go by never got old. Watching the outputs of so many people¡¯s labors flow on into the city helped make up for the pity underlying. For those who tried and failed, or those who couldn¡¯t be what their powers destined them to be. But in a city like Kadia, in a world like his, you had to be the best of the best to be a hero. How else would you manage all of it after all?

    The skyline ahead attesting to that, a swath of high rises spreading out over the thinning dregs of the industrial sprawl. A city of trade, commerce, and the little things in life. A city you could walk through and yet remain connected to it wherever you went. The main hub for the whole of the region. And yet near enough the most peaceful. A true defeat of the hero paradox. At least by League standards. Alarm and threat tracking systems, rapid response services, a police force kitted out to handle the worst events possible, a full on military base not even an hour outside the city limits. And all of it palling in comparison to its central jewel. The Hill, the League of Supers main base for the entire tri-state area. And the place Seth could just see from between that highrisen horizon. The place he had his sights set on.

    For later.

    For now, home was just a dingy apartment block on the border of the sector. Towering all of three stories up with nothing but grey cinder, darkened paint, and last ditch vibes. But it had all the amenities he could ever need. Namely it was within walking distance, was arguably abandoned, and had provided garage space. It was perfect, because he didn¡¯t have or need a car.

    Walking his heavy cargo up to one of the garages, he put a hand to the door and felt. Focused. Knew just what he was looking for. A small vibration, an infinitesimal signal. A string to pluck and cut as his hand came away. And the locks placed on the door clanked free of their more normal stoppages. As it started clunking upward and out of the way just off of the released spring tension. Given back reign because he shut a circuit off that offered no outward interface. Because he didn¡¯t need one.

    Inside, a dim overhead light came standard with every unit, the three extra work lights didn¡¯t. The garage was set up like a mechanic''s shop, work tables flanking a heavy metal framework of pulleys and chains for heavy lifting. And berthing what this was all for. Tools were hung on the walls and in holsters at each table. There was even a generator placed near the door just to cover all the bases. Even if it was just for show. But one thing was missing from this picture, though only because a tarp cloaked it against the far wall.

    Seth left the trolley at the door and began, two by two, stacking the metal bricks at the foot of his machining table. Their brittleness leaving them without the resounding clang that twenty five pound metal bars usually responded with, simply thudding against each other as they stacked higher and higher. Till the trolley heaved a metaphorical sigh at the loss of its burden, and Seth now had way too much metal to work with.

    Once everything was in place, the cart was pushed outside, and the door shut again. The work lights keeping the room lit from all sides, but the cloak beyond them maintaining a defiant shadow. One at last to be brought into the light as he clutched the fabric covering it. The dark shade becoming a glistening skeleton.

    Titanium alloy formed into distinct shapes, like discordant angular mesh just waiting to be filled in. Simple joints beefed up with servos of every caliber, full axis rotary cuffs breaking up the frame up into distinct parts if push came to selective disassembly. Yet that was compared to the joins above them. Empty slats wound tight on sliding paths, waiting for the armored layers that would fill them and show their full articulation. Finally, a drive pack and battery were hung and wired into the grooves on the inside. Or at least it looked that way. Seth didn¡¯t really need the assistance. But the weight training at least got him used to what it would end up becoming.

    Still, this was a powersuit to the layman''s eyes, like many he¡¯d built. Like many built since¡­ since the crisis that demanded their intervention. An industry to fill the gaps left over when so many heroes, so many people went off to war. And died. An¡­ an industry that he was a part of. One that he put himself quite firmly into. So he could forget a little. So he could use his powers. He¡¯d repaired, built, modified, and designed countless numbers of suits over the years. All of it worth it, all of it preparation and training. All leading to this one last suit. The culmination of so many plans for the future.

    Because for all that pride he had, all the hope he had, all the possibility. He was going to need it to keep what he could do under wraps. To keep his power hidden and in check. This was a buffer as much as it was a show of skill. A wall between him and the world that could keep it safe. From him. And keep him safe from scrutiny in turn. Because he had a debt too heavy to reconcile on his own, and he wasn¡¯t about to be cast off before he could pay it off in one go. But all that could wait, there were still some final pieces to get before the day was out.

    Walking back the cart was a quiet affair, the same sights just in reverse. And a plan to head into town was already on the table. For as much as the industrial district had in heavy work, the city proper had in finer detailing. And¡­ that tinge was getting rather insistent. He hadn¡¯t gotten much chance to get at lectured today. So out from his dark cargo work pants came a set of his cellphone¡¯s earbuds to dull the world away. To quiet it and allow for-

    ¡°You overdid it. Again.¡±

    For the Speaker to have his say. A slow, graceful, if artificial tone coming through the drivers. Always held to even if it was more pomp than circumstance. Even when he couldn¡¯t stand physically over anyone anymore.

    ¡®It was friendly advice. I¡¯d like it if they stayed open.¡¯

    Because his voice came from deep within. A corner of Seth¡¯s mind hard to reach and even harder to reach out from. But it heard his thoughts just fine. And managed fine with the right equipment to amplify. Even if it was just to get told off.

    ¡°Then you would have merely told them about a different path to take, not that they are headed toward monetary ruination.¡±

    ¡°Nah, they wouldn¡¯t have listened to that. But by the looks on their faces, they¡¯re not going to forget what he said.¡±

    But at least someone had his back. Figuratively. No matter how jaded and lax he sounded, Threat always kept a nice balance.

    ¡®Thank you.¡¯

    ¡°But they probably won¡¯t appreciate it though.¡±

    In keeping Seth¡¯s good mood in check.

    ¡°Which is my point. If you want to ingratiate yourself, you need act more measured. Diplomatic. They have time to squander and learn their coming error, but you do not.¡±

    ¡®Hhhugh¡­ Why¡¯d I have to get stuck with the career politician?¡¯Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Hey, it was either him or the literal personification of pride comith before the fall.¡±

    ¡°Says the fall.¡±

    This was Seth¡¯s life, at least when it was quiet. The slight rattle of the heavy cart¡¯s wheels, the rumble of more passing trucks and cars, even the distant sounds of the factories just a block away. All of it could block them out and leave him alone with his thoughts. But he knew he would never truly be alone. Not anymore. Not after everything he¡¯d been through. Not after the weeks that were near enough his earliest, brightest memories. Given what little preceded them. And everything that came after. And really, they didn¡¯t deserve to be ignored. They were a part of him. And he a part of them.

    The Garkah, as they had called themselves. The reason he could pull such heavy loads. Could shut a circuit with just a bit of focused effort to feel out for it. They were the reason he had powers, could manipulate electricity. Its flow to and fro, and it wider uses in more than just conductive metal.

    Though it was more inheritance than a gift given. And came with far too much lecturing on its proper use. Being the original wielders and repentant misusers certainly colored sentiments. And, for better or worse, they lived rent free in his head. So they had to give something in return for the space.

    All two hundred thousand of them.

    A diaspora from across the stars, across distance counted in years if not centuries of travel for even light. Hidden away from the world just like his abilities. Because it was better than telling the truth. Better than opening wounds that they caused by getting here. By just landing seeing what all was here. Wounds even Seth was not without. But¡­ they were considerate of that. At least.

    Seth wheeled his borrowed cart back to the steel yard as times long past faded back into present duldrum. Till he passed the one piece of this place that stood out the most. Both in looks and in his mind.

    Run down and overgrown, if things could even grow here. Sagging and blackened as weather and pollution assaulted it. Old wood slowly being eaten away by time and what looked like some kinda moss. An ancient building built before all this was even a twinkle in some turn of the century industrialist¡¯s eye. An orphanage. The one he¡¯d been left in. But the one he appreciated.

    Marrow¡¯s Home for the Lost and Abandoned. Now little more than a world heritage site that no one bothered categorizing. It was fine, it was good when an orphanage closed down. It meant it was empty, and everyone had found homes to go to. Well, most everyone. He hadn¡¯t, but that was more thanks to getting a job early and the foster system having a tough time. He wasn¡¯t really adoption material anyway. The Garkah filled that hole well enough.

    Still, they tried their best. Tried to stop him from sneaking out mostly. There were too many other kids. Too many in worse states than him. He could handle himself fine enough, though that was mostly the Garkah. Still that place helped, left him close to what he needed. What he ultimately wanted. Industry he could use. Speaking of which.

    Waving his repeated thanks at whoever was watching out for it, he left the empty cart in the steel yard. Smile only lightly besmirched by a stubborn past. But he was far from done, so had more than enough time to realign forget again. Only one stop, but a lot of walking. And, given the small ire he felt side eying back toward the yard, plenty more to hear.

    ¡®Calm down Matterist, we won¡¯t have to deal with them anymore.¡¯

    ¡°They called our wo- They called it trash!¡±

    Speaker and Threat¡¯s time in the spotlight of Seth¡¯s mind had been interrupted by a young voice belying a lot of experience. Like a lot of his fellow Garkah. He never got a firm answer, because they didn¡¯t even know for certain themselves, but they¡¯d traveled for a long time to get here. So all of them had more than a few decades worth added on to their ages. If not more.

    ¡®Well it was actual trash, they just couldn¡¯t work out the-¡®

    ¡°Why must so much of your species be so obtuse? It¡¯s not that hard to see that that structure is electrically crystalizing. How else could it even solidify as much as it already has?¡±

    ¡®Matter¡­ they can¡¯t feel electrons like we can. And this is all Tesh science, not Earth science. We don¡¯t have metal that contracts under electrical currents. It¡¯s kinda anathema really.¡¯

    ¡°Oh ye of so limited electromagnetism. When we get our chance I¡¯m opening a school. This ignorance is intolerable and shall not stand!¡±

    ¡®Heh, well I¡¯ll try and get you there quick. But don¡¯t expect a bunch of kids to find a lecture on the subtleties of an antithetically inverted piezoelectric phenomena very fun. Half of them won¡¯t know how to even say it.¡¯

    ¡°Humph¡­ Then I¡¯ll just have to make it¡­ fun.¡±

    The gallery calmed down as Seth kept walking. Past his apartment, past the few outer business offices that clumped together against their clanking surroundings. Hitting the sparse outer suburbs that quickly became the outer ring of Kadia¡¯s business distract. More offices slowly but surely rising as they neared its center. As traffic became smaller and less laden. Commuters getting their lunches or passing off their shifts. The sounds of industry transferring into the din of city life. The errant honk and rev barely cutting into it.

    The slight vertigo of the grade increase rising above his head was fine, Seth had plenty more to focus on. The wide sidewalks of his home thinned only enough to keep the roadway at the forefront, but still allowed a good deal of foot traffic to flow alongside. Business casual and common demure, the occasional suit and tie waiting for a car rather than walking. Parking garages disgorging and engorging, buses squealing to their stops. Even a few sport ware enthusiasts making due with circling the buildings they no doubt owned the offices in. Because who else would use a place like this for exercise.

    All accented by the occasional fly by. The sudden blur. The splash of color in the shallow seas of humanity. Capes notwithstanding. Certainly not super society, but the occasional individual developing powers of some kind wasn¡¯t so far out there. Or they found something that gave them abilities. Or came into them through parents already bearing them. Plenty of ways to be super, just not to be a hero. But those that made it made sure everyone else knew. Could see them. Could know that they were doing their part. Patrolling the streets like beat cops with bombastic flare. Some towering over the heads of those around. Others zipping by at speed, and making sure they were following the rules of the road doing it. The luck few floating and flying about above it all. And every one of them assured, legitimized, allowed and authorized to do what they could to keep this city safe. To keep this world safe. Though, by now that was kind of moot. Heroes being too good at their jobs leaves quite the lack of villains to compete against.

    But when they did come around, it was worth it. Seth couldn¡¯t help but smile as he passed a walking mass of granite and saw a flyer zip between the buildings. An eye always kept out, an ear tuned in. Because he wanted to be there when it finally came to a brawl. Peace was nice too, but watching supers duke it out just made his day. Seeing effort and skill battle malice and greed. Ideals clashing. Maybe not so much the monologues, but the sheer weight of beings bearing power varied and catastrophic just lit a fire in him. Because that was what he wanted. That was him someday.

    But not today

    His destination was already upon him and dragging enthusiasm back to the table to sit down quietly. A small space just off the fifth or so ringing street. A grouping of businesses only really together because the office space was cheap. But right up the alley of his supplier. Cheap carpet, drop tile ceilings, and central air a few decades out of date. A neat little window kiosk in one of the main hallway¡¯s cut outs drawing Seth up with a fancy cardboard sign hung up above it.

    ¡°Welcome to Ma- Oh it¡¯s you again.¡±

    Seth just shrugged at the sudden drop of demeanor across the clerk¡¯s face. More pity at the shtick the guy at the counter had to say than much else. Magne-ton, a nice little shop for all the fiddly little things you could need that could stick to each other if given the slightest amount of negligence. But also the only one who would accept Seth¡¯s order. Again.

    ¡°Hey Tim, it all finished yet?¡±

    The utter antithesis of enthusiasm on their face said that yes, they were. The black dusty stains caking his static apron only cementing it. And the disheveled toss of his red hair making sure Seth felt regret for making him do this.

    ¡°Yes. Yes it is.¡±

    Tim swiveled away, rolling across the rubberized floor and grabbed a set of boxes from the inner counter. Three¡­ of about twelve.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know why, I don¡¯t want to know how. I just want this gone. You¡¯re a mad man and I hate that I agreed to this.¡±

    ¡°And¡­ I¡¯m sorry? It was either you or order overseas. And bulk shipping would¡¯ve-¡±

    *shuu*

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. It took five hours to get the charge right on each of these servos. And I can¡¯t for the life of me work out what this terracotta mix is supposes to do. I am, completely, uninterested. Just take it. And go.¡±

    Seth could only give a flat smile as he scooped and stacked up his order, carefully balancing it as he lifted the whole tower and started toward the door. Ducking and sliding through the doorframe and feeling Tim¡¯s unimpressed side eye all the way out. And Matterist¡¯s countering indignation attempting to rise back up.

    ¡®It¡¯s fine Matter. It was a big ask and it¡¯s done.¡¯

    ¡°The second course will be about proper mitigation shielding for magnetic resonances. Hmm¡­ Maybe I can hang him by a clamp and see if he appreciates our servo designs then. How better to test if their resistance threshold is up to snuff.¡±

    It was going to be a long walk home.

    Trudging back with his high stacked boxes, Seth made better time. If only by virtue of everyone moving out of his way and the lunch rush dying down. The occasional surprised start, an outraged glare like he was taking up too much space, even the inevitable huff and jeer at the absurdity. It wasn¡¯t like Seth didn¡¯t have some stature, it was just he wasn¡¯t exactly the type to walk around with the world on his shoulders.

    Middling tone, probably an inch or two small for twenty four, maybe a bit too baby faced. A beard just refused to grow in, what could he do? The muscle tone was more deliberate. His strength wasn¡¯t purely musculature anymore, not since the Garkah taught him how to use his powers to amplify it. Hard to work out when you can just supercharge what you already have with some added electricity and the right control of the ensuing momentum. But the height was more unfortunate than understandable. It was only a little stunting, but going weeks with little food will do that to a growing kid. And that was just one of scars left over from¡­

    From walking. For days on end. Scrounging for food in tossed apart stores. Sleeping in any cover he could find. Feeling the slow creep of hunger mount and mount with every empty bombed out shelf. With every day that passed without the sun shining overhead. With every growl and grind haunting him to sleep. With those eyes on-

    A shake of it away. The spiraling back into those days. Into what he wanted to forget. A half caught Remembrance Day ad on a passing bus. Only a glimpse, but it was enough. He knew the shapes. Knew that wall. Those triumphant figures. Those teeth. Those eyes¡­

    An uneven breath, at a crosswalk finally seen as more than just terrain for his subconscious to traverse. A callous gaze was tracking up his burdening supplies from over a midday coffee, while others just unconsciously kept away waiting for the light to change. A lot of looks compounding, wearing thin even this small chafe. Making Seth self-conscious for no reason, but every reason. Feeling even a few eyes on him was not helping. So much emotion and yet so little to say of it.

    He¡¯d always been able to tell when someone was looking at him, at least when they were emotional about it. Judgmental looks and wondrous gazes, or just general apathetic pass overs. The how it was happening never really mattered, it just felt like it had always been there. Some small quirk or something with his powers maybe. But all that did matter in the end was if he was focusing on them or if they were truly unrestrained. Unavoidable. And whether he could handle it all at-

    The light changed and blessed relief tore away the raw feelings and the slip back into the worse. Progress forward sending it all back down and making the world scenery again. Just other people¡¯s lives that didn¡¯t matter, just the past that didn¡¯t matter. Right now, everything was his and his alone. Right now it was a good day.

    He made it back into the industrial district okay, passed nothing more than eyes already knowing what he was like. Just another maybe-super making a living. Just another set of hands. That were very full. So he had to kick his garage door to send it rolling open. Placing is last bits of supply in and awaiting for tomorrow. Another full day hopefully just as good. Even if it was the last day of his career.

    That was tomorrow though. For now it was just the lazy rest of a Saturday. One of a waiting frozen dinner, chicken parmesan that was gonna taste only a little bit like plastic. And a seat on the couch that he¡¯d found on the street yet felt like heaven. All while watching TV that¡­ the Garkah were disrupting. That Speaker was disrupting.

    ¡°huuggghh¡­¡± ¡®Can¡¯t I just have one Saturday?¡¯

    He popped in his relieved earbuds and was greeted unceremoniously with-

    ¡°No. Not when your goal is so close at hand. Now is assuredly the time to train harder.¡±

    ¡°ffggrrrr¡­¡±

    Seth put his lunch back in the freezer before it melted too much, took off his comfy utilitarian clothes in exchange for less a obstructive shirt and shorts, and hung his hat so the world could take it all in. Take the scar that kept him tethered to that past in. Stark white managed into a shock. Tousled and smoothed back to something close to not hat hair. Yet fussed over and regretted every time he saw it. Every time he had to go out and bare it to the world. Because what they saw was not what he felt. Not what gave him this unbidden scar. It used to brown for crying out loud.

    Scooching, grumbling, out his apartment door and hanging immediate up the adjoining stairway, he was off to do more remembering he preferred not to. Though the work out at least had its own cathartic properties. The roof of the building left unused and uncared for, so what better a place to practice what he was trying to achieve.

    A laid out and staked down mat kept him from tearing the prickly roofing off. A spare berth offered a nice anchor for a sandbag. And the general privacy kept him from looking like a fool. Or worse.

    ¡°If you would keep to the forms, you would hardly look foolish.¡±

    ¡®And I keep telling you, Speaker, that I¡¯m missing a few very important things to do that. You know, like a tail!¡¯

    ¡°Then you will just have to keep trying to adapt. Now go!¡±

    Like a starting bell, Seth whipped into action against his overfilled opponent. A fist circling wide and driving into the side, feet sliding parallel to their upper brethren appendages till the angle of attack was caught and launched with fervor. The bag struck and sent swinging to clang its limit and then some. Chain bunching and flopping it catawampus on the back swing.

    Seth let it fly past and add more uncertainty to its jerking path, as he leaned into all the inertia he just threw himself with. Feet loosened, stance harboring, tension fighting for control. So he could wind it all up into the other fist.

    The sand whirled back about, lurched funny and off balance, but wasn¡¯t getting any more free shots at him just because he hit it too hard. The opposite shin shot out and aligned it right, so Seth could stomp that counterweighting foot down and pound the bag right off his moor. Thwaping it to the mat like a clotheslined body, chain snapping its connection and spooling loose. And leaving him to remember where that move came from. Where too much of them came from.

    Weaving with the momentum was just how the Garkah fought, heavy strikes with little focus on direct defense. You don¡¯t need it when your body was that defense. But blocking was still learned, and if it could be made into an attack afterward all the better. They tended to keep their feet on the ground and grapple a lot, but Seth didn¡¯t have the sheer weight on offer to keep that up. So he often fell back on things he learned a long time ago¡­ Thing he only really remembered because forgetting would be worse. But they still had their scars to chafe with every reminiscence. Every happy weekend glued to the TV in his room. His old room. Watching heroes fight villains till it all blended together into a blur of childhood half remembered. The next day all but forgotten barring the brightest stars. But one always stood out in his mind. One he almost regretted knowing, and hoping, and cherishing.

    But that was past, and the past was so long ago. The bag on the ground needed rehanging. The metal hoop it hung to needed rebending¡­ again. And Speaker needed reassurance that Seth was ready for what was ahead of him. And that meant fighting like a Garkah when it suited him, and a pale imitation of a warrior when it was necessary. Till everything hurt. Which was going to take a while. Which would leave him hungry. Which he hated.

    Two hours of beating on sand whiled away. Half that of dodging invisible enemies, feeling presences that weren¡¯t there through a link to his senses the Garkah had. Another half of just general working out, so at the very least his body was passable on its own. And lastly a few minutes of letting Speaker lecture him on what was right and what was wrong. He¡¯d gotten that down to just under three minutes, but wasn¡¯t about to feel too much pride in that. Lest it expand all on its own.

    But it was over now. He was ¡®allowed¡¯ to have the rest of his last Saturday as a normal citizen. Because by Monday, he was going to be a part of the League. At least as a recruit anyway. And there wasn¡¯t a single part of him that was going to accept flunking out. Being relegated back to what he had already outgrown. What wasn¡¯t enough.

    Sore on the couch, tired out more as a final lesson than a consequence, he was left to focus. To reach out. To feel what he needed to alleviate what was dragging him into that couch. Feeling the ebb and flow of power coming in from the street in high oscillation. Alternating current blasting away imperceptible to all but those unlucky. And him, though the overlap was debatable. As he let that current do its due diligence, its expected passage and utilization. And simply dragged away what was already marked off as for his use. Pulling power right out of the sockets on the wall.

    Feeding on it, or at least letting it suffuse through him. It was a vague sense, he still had a lot to work on, but it was his guiding princeps. What he was meant for in his own mind. As the trickle of electricity silently buzzed the air, and healed away the soreness of a day of training and work. Well, the physical damage anyway. The pain was his. And would always be.

    But, that was the last of the hard stuff. Now was the rest of a good day. Just lazing out on that couch, watching TV till the sun went down, and eating a microwaved meal with just a little too much salt and/or plastic in it to be healthy. But it was all just too good to pass up. Too comforting.

    Because he can¡¯t have everything so easy in the end. He still has to sleep at some point. The past had to have its due one way or the other.

 Chapter 2: The Fleeting and The Real

    Amorphous.

    Analogous.

    A lost dream, forever left to the void that proceeded it.

    The gulf that had no bearing, no poise.

    There for no need to remember.

    Leaving nothing to worry about.

    Not even as-

    *BOOOoooooooom*

    As Seth¡¯s eyes shot open to the deep thud ringing his ears.

    What it was, what it could mean, questions trying to coerce him wide awake. But still sleepy eyes failed to care, blinking the world back into and out of focus in slow terminal relapse. His room was dim, the curtains still closed, morning light barely eking through and shining across ill holding surfaces. Those questions losing ground, more powerful urges countering. As pure justification smothered them whole. Because¡­

    ''It''s too early.''

    It was summer, no school or lessons or waking up early allowed. Kids weren¡¯t made to wake up early anyway. He pulled his head back over on his pillow, regaining his lost comfort with slothful curmudgeon. Grumbling away the weight of his eyelids. Trying to get back to¡­ to whatever he was dreaming of. Nothing stuck, just empty space. Empty memories. But before he could even drift back there, he realized something else.

    ''It¡¯s so¡­ quiet.''

    If he was ever woken up early it was always because of his parents¡¯ morning routines. Almost like they were trying to annoy him awake most days. No smells from down stairs, no sounds echoing through the house, no busy work and casual conversations. It was way too quiet.

    His drift was thoroughly shot, worry becoming antithesis to rest. He rolled up and on to the side of his two tone bed. Rubbing his lightly browned hair for all the blood blow his scalp was missing. Still half asleep and oblivious to anything not worth his while or too demanding he know about it. His room little more than a blur as he rubbed the grit from his eyes. Like¡­ he didn¡¯t know what all was in it. Though certainly not all was forgotten about.

    Hopping the slight fall off, he groggily shuffled and kicked through action figures all gathered up below. Most still stanced to fight whatever villain would be on TV next, whichever was brave enough to come out of hiding. A single one avoided, cared about amid the less vague obscurity. Blocky red and green and yellow armor barely covering tan bravado, feather head dress frilled out into mohawk to dare the sky, and obsidian tooth blade of hard to pronounce heritage somehow absent from his little plastic hand. Some weird feeling welling up as he looked down on it. Panging the world to a sought after stop, if but for a moment. As he looked down on his favorite hero, on Tlatoani in his prime merchandising phase. Not wanting to leave even this parasocial standstill. But an equal force pushed him ahead. And away¡­

    Muscle memory bade him to grab the windbreaker he always left draped over his chair. Putting it on over the thick comfy pajamas as the world played on. Without sympathy. As he headed toward the door to the hall with questions rising in his throat.

    ¡°Mom? Dad?¡±

    Nothing but continued silence as he stood there, just shy of halfway up the frame marked to show he¡¯d grown. Small pride urging him out and into action. He poked his head into his parent¡¯s bedroom, but the bed was made and the curtains still drawn. His mom always opened them first thing in the morning, to everyone¡¯s curmudgeon. The bathroom door was open, but the light was off so they weren¡¯t in there either. His dad¡¯s office was empty, but he¡¯d always told him that productivity was pointless this early. And always repeated it like Seth would forget it or something.

    But still, why was it so quiet? Surely there would be some noise, his mom making breakfast and clinking dishes, his dad making coffee from their overused maker, either of them talking. But there was nothing. And that was growing his worry into full concern, steering him toward the stairs down. Winding him down past family photos full of people he¡­ he really couldn¡¯t remember. Distant relatives he just never cared to know. Or never knew in the first place.

    Making it to the foyer, his bare feet stepped to the first floor. Right into the chilling morning air pooling over it. Turning him to the front door he knew full well was open. But seeing it now was more anxiety inducing then it should be. Fully ajar, dim light illuminating the storage closet door that was directly opposite. And quiet, way too quiet.

    No birds, no wind, not even someone driving by or mowing their lawn. It was like the world outside was standing still. Waiting for him. Waiting for him to make it all real.

    Seth inched ever forward to the door frame, heart beating louder in his ears than it should be. Little body barely able to keep from trembling.

    And yet¡­ yet the scene awaiting him was one of supreme stillness.

    His overly friendly neighborhood completely stopped. His parents finally found there, standing apart. Mom halfway up the pathway to the door with her hand covering her mouth, dad all the way at the sidewalk frozen with tension. Both staring straight ahead like everyone else on the street.

    Mr. Thomas next door at the sidewalk too, as was the whole Maltsburger family on the other side. Mrs. Buchanan leaning out her bedroom window, while Mr. and Mrs. Peirce were stopped halfway into their car on their way to work. Every one of them staring out toward the center of town.

    And the slowly rising plume of black smoke over it.

    ¡°Mom!?¡±

    As if the spell sealing this moment broke apart, both parents turned at this call. Allowing Seth to see their surprise and worry on¡­ on what should be their faces.

    But all there was, all he knew, was a blur.

    The red scarf around his mother¡¯s neck brighter than it should be. The one she would always wrap around him if he got cold. The one thing he could truly see. Truly¡­ remember. The only thing there was, as it suddenly started billowing toward him.

    A strange noise carried by the wind, from down the street, whirling both parents back around in time to see Mr. Farrow at the end of the street lurch away before-

    *zzzzZZZAP*

    Before the world came crashing to grim¡­ slow¡­ speed.

    A bolt, no a tendril of electricity striking him from around the corner of their short drive. Enveloping him in blinding light burning away detail and sanity. As two more arcs lurched out from where he stood. One struck out toward the O¡¯Crowly house on the left, barreling through a window and detonating in a shower of splinters and glass. The right hitting Ms. Mable on her front porch as she saw the horror too late.

    But not Seth. He was forced to watch, see, as his heart sank to levels it should not go. As it compounded grim inevitability with the shock of his parents turning back around. In abject panic and¡­ And cruel clear focus. Like his mind finally caught and cleared away the fuzz that had been clouding his reality. Like it was something he knew, but couldn¡¯t remember. Like a hand had come down to wipe away the fog, but only made it worse.

    His father¡¯s light brown hair and green eyes burning toward him in desperate fury, pivoting and reaching out for his family too far away.

    His mother closer, reaching for him instinctively. Dark brown hair flowing behind her, and shared hazel eyes staring out as if this is the last time she will see her son.

    All the while the tendrils kept tearing through the air further.

    The left bursting out and striking the Peirces, their car shattering between them. The right slamming through her porch¡¯s awning and into Mrs. Buchanan, blowing out her windows and adding thunder to this too slow hell.

    The left hit Mr. Thomas as he recoiled from the shock, almost prone and pleading. The right wicked and chaining through the Maltsburgers on the other side. Then splitting again, one tendril tearing away down the street and the other¡­

    The other slamming his father in the side.

    The collective flashes washed away the street, Seth¡¯s town, that smoke, his life. Yet the arc impacted as if it were a wanton blaring train no one couldn¡¯t see. And stole away those features in pure plasma cruelty. Before he could even make it another desperate step.

    And still it arcs.

    Whiting out the rest of the world from sky to lawn. And chaining toward his mother with no care for even this moment of clarity. Light haloing around her as the tendril bared its hungry teeth, striking her in the back and bending her upward. Forcing her teared up eyes away as everything disappeared in the blinding light enveloping her. As even her face disappeared from his life.

    As adrenaline churned and mind realizes all too much what was occurring, and yet refused to let Seth move even a muscle. Even as that final rippling, jagged tendril left his mother¡¯s blown out and indistinguishable form, and stretched out toward him. He couldn¡¯t move, he couldn¡¯t breathe. Only be there, forced to watch as it grew slower, watch it arc off densities in the air as grim inevitability burned the world into his brain. As it went into overdrive out of reflex and spite, trying to keep it like it never could before. As it came closer and closer.

    Until there was nothing at all.

    The world falling away. No blinding heat, no feeling of impact. Just a total loss of sensory input and necessary reaction. Replaced, consumed, by a darkness eating away at the edges of everything. A darkness encroaching upon all he could see, could feel, could know. His mind, being blotted out, torn through without regard or care.

    Taking what little he had.

    The candy and toys his neighbors used to give him to make him happy, the dead animals he used to cower from at the edge of the forest, the annoying way his mom forced him up in the morning, the way his dad ruined breakfast every day. The¡­ the¡­Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Every emotion, every tiny memory, every¡­

    Every memory he had.

    All of it being ripped away like haphazard threading. Defiant holds trying to grip but kept fading away, the blurry fuzz of failed recording filling every void in that blotted path. Leaving him nothing¡­ but their absence.

    Their sucking void, their knowing loss, their known destroyer. Nothing but loss, and knowing it was lost. Leaving only that which it caused. The one thing that exuded from that swallowing abyss. The one thing it shared without cause or concern. The thing it left behind in its wake of nothingness. A burning. A blinding! An all-consuming-

    ¡­Light

    A sudden new light, flaring into being irrespective of this void. Countering the darkness like heaven come to spare, overshadowing everything trying to take from him. Shattering even the white out of the real. Scorching the sky back to known across the town, streaking as if it had no care for physics or grim perception or loss of there in. A massive bolt of lightning tearing over rooftops and blurring out all but its magnificent fury. As if aimed with purpose and wanton disregard for that dared spread darkness. With direction and condemnation of its burning siphon.

    It flew straight for Seth.

    Crashed into him with force enough to slam the world back to what it once was. Snapping that abyss to cowering recoil. Colliding with power enough to blow both the front door and the closet door off their hinges. Both smashing through the storage closet like a freak hurricane, sending everything falling from its shelf or rack. An avalanche of disuse burying Seth in a mountain of coats and cleaning equipment until the only darkness surrounding him was the real and true article.

    A pain insurmountable, existence overheated and burning its wrapper. The world refading away more physical, concussion and agony over existential loss. But before his consciousness could drift away in sympathy, Seth could see that dim light once again. Finally through with its moment of blinding hell. A pinhole in the mountain of clear blue sky, fading away. Diminishing more and more before it all¡­ faded too¡­

    *rRr rRr rRr*

    To the alarm clock ringing off Seth¡¯s barely asleep gid.

    An empty feeling permeated but familiar and hardly a worry. Understood. He didn¡¯t dream, or he couldn¡¯t because of what happened to him. The less visible scars. But it wasn¡¯t too bad, it wasn¡¯t like he remembered what it was like to dream anyway. So there wasn¡¯t anything to miss. Easily backfilled by what was on his mind before he slept. And, for as much as his bed was comforting in this small disheartening introspection, he was still way to giddy to stay tucked in.

    No sense being late to your last day at work after all.

    Creaking up, he couldn¡¯t help trudged to the bathroom though. Sweeping up a prepped shirt along the way to cut the chill. General Advance leading a tank parade across his chest, because business casual wasn¡¯t his style. And it got in the way most of the time. Not a lot of dry cleaning in the area for some reason.

    His apartment, though small, wasn¡¯t as dingy as the exterior made it out to be. New appliances and furniture existed alongside drab yellowing wallpaper. The fixtures in the bathroom were much the same, slightly disintegrating molding and stained ceramic clashing with clean metal and modern efficiency. Seth had the money to burn on things he could get himself, and had plenty of pestering laden know how from the Garkah on caring for metal, but in turn he cared little for aesthetics or stuff he¡¯d have to call out for. Or spend hours doing when it barely mattered.

    Blankly staring into the mirror as he brushed his teeth told him he was still the same as before. Still that same kid. Just taller. And with the complete white out that was his hair. Frazzled and thick and refusing to go back to the brown it used to be no matter how much it was cut or grown out. An annoying reminder he¡¯d always have, but still he shook that thought away to regain his smile. Though his skin was also still pretty pale just by proximity.

    ¡®I¡¯m inside too much. But that¡¯s at least changing today.¡¯

    As he left the bathroom, he scooped up and hobbled into his set aside cargo pants, heading for the kitchen a foot at a time. Just a single left hand turn away in this one room apartment. He didn¡¯t need much space anyway.

    But, as he continued his morning, a distant boom rattled his only window. He didn¡¯t pay it any mind though. It be on the news in short order, and usually wasn¡¯t worth it. Probably just yet another idiot cropping up and getting beaten back down. And sure enough the echo of the alert system started up in its wake, warning everyone to steer clear. A slight judge at the timing guessing it was in a central district, but that only narrowed it to 50/50 between commercial and residential.

    He listened as he pulled out butter, bread, and a cinnamon shaker for a light breakfast. He liked his sweets maybe a bit too much. Muffled words came through from the alert, but he could make out ¡®park¡¯ inter mixed with the din. So there was the answer, Raffle¡¯s Memorial, aka the Fight Park. So an idiot with some sensibility. So the odds were closer to 70/30. Way too common a spot and way too prepared for it. The place even had unofficial seating if you were lucky to be in the vicinity when things went down.

    As he put the bread down in the toaster he heard another boom, this time it was a little closer, and higher up. A sonic boom.

    ¡®Someone was out and about this morning. And now it was paying off.¡¯

    Then something softer, a droning in the siren echo, the jet whine of one of the League¡¯s transports flying up and over the city. Seth smiled wider. The odds just hit 100, this was a villain.

    ¡¯And worth the detour.¡¯

    The toaster popped as a voice tried to rise from the silence. Before the lightly browned bread had a chance to fall it was buttered, dusted, and hanging out of Seth¡¯s mouth as he was pulling on an overstuffed backpack and slamming out the door to his buildings central stair. No time for a sit down, he had miles to clear.

    Sprinting down the two flights was too slow, so he mounted the banister and slid, munching on his toast for the first length. Only lurching to a respectful stop to allow his only other neighbor to get by.

    ¡°Morning Ms. Mahan!¡±

    Seth squeezed by his built yet kindly, and literally blue haired, grandma of a neighbor as she climbed up the stairs back to her room.

    ¡°No sense in being in such a hurry dearie. If you¡¯ve seen one fight you¡¯ve seen them all.¡±

    ¡°I know Ms. Mahan, I¡¯ll be careful¡±

    Seth returned to speeding away and careened out the door, skipping the last few steps of the building¡¯s stoop by kicking off over the edge into the garage area.

    He didn¡¯t even make contact as his garage door unlatched and got flung open to his arm whamming up. If it¡¯s conductive, its fair game for a bit of sudden and very conspicuous electromagnetism. Finishing his toast, he put his pack down and quickly grabbed up a needed peripheral. A loose suit covered in sockets. A connector suit to slip into so he could snap into the empty skeleton of his armor. He needed to give the illusion he was taking his powersuit for a spin.

    Zipping up to it, he popped a button on the left side shoulder bracket of said empty skeleton, and let it flower open so he could step in. Magnetic rings snapped into the connectors with pleasant metallic pings, joining the movements of the two together. It couldn¡¯t get skin tight over his clothes so his moves weren¡¯t going to be very precise, but he didn¡¯t need precision. Also he forgot his shoes, so this was a nice compromise.

    A heavy roll caged foot lifted and a smooth whir resounded before thudding the concrete. Nice easy moves, but only the precursor set up. He carefully lurched around his central crane and scooped back up his bag. Stomping the frame out of the garage and making sure it locked up behind him before he prepped for takeoff. The joints whirred and whined smoothly as he tested them, stretching his arms and reaching about as far as he could go. Tightly wound servos resisting with mediated rhythm. Sockets clanking their limits. Pistons moving inline like tendons and keeping the weight even. Articulation sliding nicely. All set, he decided to put his foot down. Crunching asphalt under three hundred odd pounds of titanium set to sprint into the fray.

    Seth eyed his surroundings, mind revving and pathing what was oncoming. The road was clear ahead, but downtown wasn¡¯t going to be, so he¡¯d need to use the rooftops. Which meant he needed some more power to-go. His eyes closed, his will given the reigns. The soft inaudible buzz of the powerlines running parallel over him rising to a closer decibel. One being ever so slightly tapped at the connections. So the tree wouldn¡¯t be drained of all its sap, but the nectar could flow. The buzz becoming more audible, louder as the air fought to not ignite in plasma pathing. But Seth got all he needed, and could feel it race down every nerve in his body.

    As the asphalt under his foot crushed to dust and all that metal and meat fused together burst out into the open road. Swinging to align with the flow of traffic, and flooring the accelerator right into the driveshaft.

    The Garkah had taught him a hell of a lot. How to push and pull electricity, to use it and only lightly abuse it. How to focus that uptake internally rather than just externally. To almost use electricity like it was muscle and tendon, as fuel for everything he could do. And the effects stuck all too well. He didn''t know everything, but he certainly wasn¡¯t complaining about that. What he was decrying about though was not having a face shield. Because the wind was not a fan of his as he picked up speed. But beggars can¡¯t be choosers when you¡¯re bounding hundreds of feet at a time.

    He stormed down the fairly empty industrial street, exoskeletal feet keeping him from tearing the soles of his suit up, but were doing a number on the roadway. When he had enough speed, he put his foot down again and launched upward toward a low building, crunching one last bit of asphalt but clearing the lip of the roof and continuing on. All that weight clanging and bending the metal copings the League had mandated be installed on most buildings. It was better to have a single hardened piece of metal take the brunt than risk raining shattered concrete on people. Also it¡¯s easier to repair and clean with the right super. And really helped beat the traffic.

    A relative small leap from the roof of an outer office complex forced him back down to concrete, the suburbs not mandated as tightly. But he was back up as he hit the first shopping center made right off downtown, the distance between roofs waning quickly. At least horizontally. Vertically the variance started getting tedious. A clear path forward soon required jumping entire intersections, or three whole turns to get around the increasing skyscraper grade.

    When Seth finally had to climb, at least the metal coping extended down the corners on most of the buildings. Better to have maintainable metal than shattered windows. In all honesty this city was designed from the ground up for hero work, and practically required supers to keep it running. Especially with events like this. The booms were still resounding from the park, but it seemed whoever was up was already there.

    Reaching the top of a middle weight corporate office, Seth could see his destination. A big circular park ringed by heavy duty high-rises. The business district core, and the main draw point for whenever a villain decided to go all out. And, from the smoke and dust, it looked like that¡¯s what¡¯s happened. Which meant the park was going to need to be replanted¡­ Again.

    Jumping those last few bounds across brand name headquarters and backend analyst bureaus, he found his position. One of the buildings just off the ring, some CEO¡¯s helipad offering the perfect vantage. Close enough to see without technically being inside the police line flashing below. And not on top of the final set of towers that were basically just concrete blocks set up to keep the worst hits from spilling out. Because for all his bravado in doing this, he wasn¡¯t about to set up on a sacrificial building meant to fall in on itself. Strength and speed are nice, but he can¡¯t fly.

    Glancing at the still starting action, he unpacked his lightly wind shorn bag, pulling out a smooth hunch of metal. A recon suite he had¡­ borrowed¡­ from work. Macro zoom cameras, thermals, inferred. No night vision though, but that was usually already available. Audio capture antennas, interception receivers, even separate earbuds. But most of that was just excess here. All he needed was the camera and antenna. Because he was going to have to pay for this somehow.

    ¡®Kaysha appreciates a since surprise every now and then.¡¯

    Snapping it onto the shoulder of his exoskeleton, it tapped into the wire framing and socketed nicely. He pulled up the scope from its brace and brought it over to his face. And slotting the provided earbuds in for the antenna. The hud inside it adjusted before his eyes, a small glitch or two signaling the Garkah were tapping in for the show as well. And the earbuds blocked out the ever present din of downtown for them. So¡­

    ¡°I should scold your shirking of responsibilities. But at least you are getting practice on your inertia control. And firsthand intel has been slim as of late. Just do not forget you have a time limit.¡±

    ¡°Eh it¡¯s his last day anyway. What are they going to do? Fire him.¡±

    Speaker and Threat were always there to counter each other. But they both knew this was rare enough to warrant a bit of fun. Because this was Seth¡¯s other hobby, fight watching. Amateurs and professionals alike ran into the fray to just catch a glimpse of real fights like this. The official stuff just never cut it or was edited to high hell, and the odd tournament had limits and standards. How was he going to know how to fight when it was finally his chance? How else was he going to learn what it took to be the hero he needed to be?

    ¡°Who''s up to the docket today anyway?¡±

    The unit zoomed quietly as the elevation provided an unhindered sightline between those faux skyscrapers. The scene waiting for them almost a clich¨¦. A blasted apart battlefield of dirt and buckled concrete. A billowing aftershock framing up it. Several heroes lined and facing down a villain almost twice their size. Couldn¡¯t ask for better. Seth could even pick out a few names he-

    ¡®Holy shit!! They didn¡¯t just send whoever was on call. It¡¯s the Elite!¡¯

 Chapter 3: Poignant Portent and Differed Severance

    The League of Supers. An organization so storied and ingrained into society you¡¯d almost think it was always there. Watching over society and give people with powers purpose and responsibility. Bringing peace with its first act and order with the second. Collecting up all the world¡¯s heroes under one big banner beholden to none but the people they protect. And fighting villains, catastrophes, and whatever else the universe deigns to throw at them whenever duty calls.

    But not all is equal. Not everyone can punch a meteorite or bend a man¡¯s spleen till he puts the building he just picked up back down. So their roster is broken up into tiered squads. Letter graded as a means of quickly verifying experience, competence, and whether they were able to handle the jobs ahead of them. Most climbed that ladder quickly, leaving the lower E ¨C D teams little more than entry level positions or jumping out points for those who got in but couldn¡¯t manage once in.

    The largest groups sat in the C bracket, and handled daily occurrences and most beat patrols. Just being in the League was enough to say you were capable, but not everyone was cut out for the heavy combat situations. That was floor for B squads, teams that could rapidly be deployed to combat more damaging threats. Still fairly populated, but definitely stronger overall. They still patrolled as well, but would be called in at a moment¡¯s notice to interdict villains or prevent disasters from spreading.

    The A¡¯s were the bottleneck of the ladder, heavy hitters the lot of them and more than able to solo most threats. But only so many heroes were strong enough to make it that high. Yet the ones there were the best the League had on hand at any given moment, and were expected to drop everything and drop a threat before it dropped on everyone else¡¯s head.

    But the Elite, oh they were another level entirely. The best of the best barely cut it, they were the premier heroes that Kadia and its surrounding regions had on offer. Similar cream of the crop groups led other areas, but most fell short. These guys and gals were so high on the charts that letter grades didn¡¯t matter anymore. Nine strong, though only six were here. The rest more than likely still manning The Hill or out on other assignments. Each was an expert in their own field or element, being chosen and uplifted only really when someone retires or proves they fit the bill better than the current member. But their leader remained clearly defined, the blazing sword Eschenwald seeing to that.

    His name, his hero name at least, was Erdwut and along with an almost annoyingly stoic demeanor he wielded Eschenwald, a sword made seemingly of ever shifting molten lava. Also, if it wasn¡¯t apparent, he preferred the Germanic knight motif and wore modernized and matte black plate mail with a dark green and red embossed tabard. Also he never wore a helmet, allowing his almost concerningly long black hair to flow back behind his head.

    On his left was¡­ was Aegis. She hadn¡¯t changed much since Seth had seen her last. Or at least her hair hadn¡¯t, he couldn¡¯t see much from back here. He¡¯d been able to view plenty of her fights like this, but he still couldn¡¯t help feel apprehensive. Her suit barely ever changed, like a lot of heroes these days. There was a large surplus of armored modular costumes from the¡­ the crisis. Hers was recolored white with dark orange bordering. A touch nicer than the one she¡¯d rescued him in, but little else had changed other than what a few years will do to a person. But also she seemed rather annoyed, a noticeably anxious tic waiting for action in her left hand, flicking at some kind of brace around it. It looked like an arm blade or something, but it was pointed back and tapered inward rather than out.

    ¡®She got some new kit?¡¯

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly been a bit, maybe she wanted to diversify. That or someone¡¯s been shoving her into certain aesthetic choices.¡±

    Next up was Ziyou, the team¡¯s martial artist, emphasis on the artist. She wore a short sleeve armored red and gold leotard, but her dense sleeve tattoos made it seem tailored otherwise. She had moderately spiked up black hair and was stanced ready to fight, though that was just her default state. A fightoholic if there ever was one, but always one to keep her full power hidden. So Seth¡¯s focus was mercifully pulled away from the past and toward watching her for any hint of what she could really do.

    ¡®Come on come on come on!¡¯

    ¡°A ¡®watched clock¡¯ does not speed up the course of time.¡±

    ¡®Don¡¯t care Speaker. Wanna see.¡¯

    Starting the right half was Technomancer. Not quite a controller of machines, but naming motifs don¡¯t always have to give everything away. He was unimaginably smart and basically ran the League¡¯s R&D division in Kadia. Decked out fairly heavily, he was wearing something akin to a space suit but colored sepia brown and black. The big thing was the spider like backpack he used. Four mechanical limbs each sporting either a sensor array or some kind of support weapon. He also never wore a helmet, but made up for it with a visor with several different scopes ready to be swapped in. He also has short brown hair, if that matters.

    ¡°Why is that one here?¡±

    ¡®Heh¡­ Yeah, why is he? Maybe they just want a larger show of force?¡¯

    ¡°Nah, he¡¯s just here to watch. His foots just itching to leap back a step.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    Next was Maglev, though like Techno it was more like he controlled metal rather than magnetic forces, but he liked to keep it ambiguous. Too many common working supers to be compared to. He was the only one wearing a cape as well, or more over the only one who could get away with it, but his suit proper was rather plain comparatively. It was navy blue with grey steel highlights down the extremities, and a magnetic force symbol embroidered on the cape. Strangely it didn¡¯t flow, it just wrapped widely around him like a menacing cartoon villain. He also has short black hair with lines shaved into the sides.

    ¡°That one unnerves me.¡±

    ¡®Why? The magnetic symbols just a lie after all.¡¯

    ¡°We have a saying of our own. One who is too steeled is usually the most brittle.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s acting too cool.¡±

    Lastly was Makani Samurai. As different as the name sounded he was actually an incredible swordsman. His suit was a cut down samurai armor set made from carved driftwood, giving off Polynesian vibes, and accentuated with green baggy robes underneath. Again, no matching helmet, but his dark hair was tied up short in a wolf tail. His sword was hilted but he kept a hand on it. And rest assured he was probably smiling.

    ¡°I like that one.¡±

    ¡°Of course you do. You are so similar it hurts to know.¡±

    ¡®Am I missing something?¡¯

    ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    Opposite to all this massed hurt was a villain known as Terrorfirma, and judging from his outfit he just broke out of prison.

    ''...again.''

    ¡°At least it explains why they sent the big guns after him.¡±

    If his name didn¡¯t give it away, he could control earth, but that was only half the equation. The product of two villains from the old golden age who ended up a little too close, Fatesear and Quaker, he was a considerable opponent. Getting devastating ground pounding from his dad, and some long range clairvoyance from his mom. He could predict disasters and major events a good bit ahead of time and capitalize on them, or cause them himself. And judging from the lack of a park, and several cracks in the periphery buildings, he¡¯d probably predicted up one hell of an earthquake.

    His uniform was bright orange but with indicator stripes across the middle chest and arms, as was typical of anyone locked up in Omni-Max.

    ¡®The prison for everything.¡¯

    One big brown line for ground type powers, with a moderate pink psychic band above it for the limited future sight. The tubes and ancillary pumps on the suit meant they were keeping him sedated, or had tried to. But the real worrying thing was his expression.

    ''How the hell is a dude called Terrorfirma scared like that?''

    Seth flipped a volume dial down to get the long range microphone up and finally get in the action. And hear for himself what-

    ¡°bzz¡­you listen to me?! You have to listen to me!! I can¡¯t stop seeing it¡­ I can''t stop FEELING IT!! It¡¯s like pure hatred¡­! It¡¯s like it resents every being born! It hates everything!! It wants to destr- ¡­No¡­ NO!! It wants to eat...! IT WANTS TO EAT EVERYTHI-¡±

    ¡°ENOUGH!!!¡±

    Erdwut wasn''t enjoying the monologue and leveled his molten blade with quieting intent. It looked dull and more solid though. Giving Speaker a reason to make this a lesson.

    ¡°He is holding back again, watch this carefully.¡±

    Aegis stepped up, flicked her arm brace hard. And it¡­ it unfurled into a round shield.

    ¡°You¡¯re going back to prison Terror! We don¡¯t need to hear another self-perpetuating prophecy from you!¡±

    Her tone was as harsh as her stance. Meanwhile Samurai stepped closer.

    ¡°Besides, you really think this is how you get heard and understood? I actually kind of liked this park, you know!¡±

    Terror turned his head down, massive hands barely leaving the sides of his head.

    ¡°You don¡¯t believe me¡­ YOU WON¡¯T BELIEVE ME!!!¡±

    He balled those hands like he was going to start ripping his hair out, sending everyone bracing like this wasn¡¯t the first time.

    ¡°FINE!!! THEN I¡¯LL MAKE YOU BELIEVE ME!!!¡±

    Because he almost immediately reared them back and slammed all the way down! Shattering the already broken ground, as a shockwave precipitated from his arms and down into the ground. Seth grabbed the lip of the roof before-

    *BOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

    Before the entire ground around him heaved like a wave. A cracking burst throwing concrete and dirt up under monumental stress, and carrying that wave along at speed. Because normal tsunamis weren¡¯t terrifying enough.

    But all these gathers heroes reacted like it was just another Monday morning. Aegis whirled around and took Ziyou by the outstretched hand, swirling up a few feet into the air, Techno activated a jetpack on two of his arms and lifted off. And Maglev floated up nonchalantly with Samurai hanging off his cape.

    ¡°You¡¯re paying to get this retailored if it rips.¡±

    ¡°Oh stop being dramatic, we all know it¡¯s metal.¡±

    Erdwut though didn¡¯t move, he just pulled Eschenwald in and pointed it down, prepared to meet the wave head on. With all the stoicism of freaking volcano, he drove that sword down. The ground melted as the wave splattered molten rock around him. Like a defiant lighthouse over the seas of hell. The wave continued on, rumbling the nearby buildings. Shaking them but not toppling anymore. Scaring the shit out of Seth though. He¡¯s tough but falling off a building was still frightening.

    Aegis moved first, flinging Ziyou around and releasing her toward Terror like a catapult before looping back around to jet with her. Maglev spun up like a top before releasing Samurai off in Terrors direction, flinging several steel rods out from under the cape in pursuit. Techno stayed back and up. Support arms squirmed robotically, measuring relative velocities and waiting for a chance or need to support. And Erdwut¡­ He just started walking forward through the melt field he created.

    Ziyou hit first, Terror hardly having time to pull his hands out of the ground. He blocked just as she pulled around, slamming a kick against his thick guard before twisting again and again and again, kicking like a combine harvester chopping wheat. Terror was recoiled from the barrage as Samurai slashed in, blade turned around so he won¡¯t just cut him in half. The slash slowing his momentum enough that he just slid past Terror off recoiling from the last combine kick. When suddenly that bulky menace was pulled to the left like he was just slammed in the gut. Next came a whirling flying sweep in from Aegis on his back right, shield bashing his legs out from under him. Seth catching her expression at last, and wincing at the cold frustration it bore into the world. Then came the Maglev rods, each bending in flight and slamming around his extremities. Making terminal his titanic fall back first onto the ground.

    Terror¡¯s head rebounded off the shattered earth, but he was never know to go down that easy. He tried to pull himself up, but Maglev¡¯s power was a heavy force to fight. His situation was looking hopeless, but he was also incredibly vindictive. A hand started reverberating, massing all the power he had left. He was intent on shaking this place to dust and taking as much as he could with him. But as the reverberations rose up his arm, an Erdwut shaped shadow loomed over him with matching Eschenwald held high and flat. Solid molten rock slammed down on Terror¡¯s head like a metric ton of bricks. Bouncing it off the cracked and churned earth like a paddleball, teeth flying loose all around. His head finally falling back in a real loss of consciousness, bloodied and out cold.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡®That¡¯s the Elite for you, efficient and badass.¡¯

    ¡°And full aware when to restrain themselves. Remember that.¡±

    The action done, and not wanting to get caught behind the police line, Seth started packing up the scout suite. Though Threat interjected before he took off the earbuds.

    ¡°Did Aegis seem angrier than usual? She seemed more level during that solo-¡±

    *brr*

    ¡®Hmm.¡¯

    Seth¡¯s phone was ringing from his backpack pocket. He pulled it out, it was work and-

    ¡°OH SHIT I¡¯m late!¡±

    He franticly unplugged the buds from the suite as he stuffed it back in his pack, careful not to crush everything else inside it. Replugging them into his phone as he ran the cable out and zipped everything back up. And finally answering as he hurriedly walking to the opposite lip of the roof.

    ¡°H-hey Mitch, sorry got caught up testing the new frame.¡±

    He could feel the skepticism from the other side of the line.

    ¡°Then why do I hear jet wash in the background?¡±

    Seth stopped, took a noise canceling earbud and turned to face the droning League transport making a landing run on the park, the crew inside dead-eyeing him as they passed. He smiled and waved a slight hello before breaking for it and jumping away.

    ¡°You went to catch the fight didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Seth bounded down several buildings to a more covered path back out of downtown. Garkah making sure the gain on his mic was in level with the onrushing wind, and the deep thuds of his landings.

    ¡°M-maybe? But hey at least the scout package worked out great.¡±

    Seth could tell his ¡®official¡¯ supervisor Mitch had his face in his hand.

    ¡°How many times have I¡­! *sigh* Just get here already, the meeting is in an hour and I don¡¯t trust you to be prepared yet.¡±

    Seth got back down to more even leveled sprawl and continued leaping back to the industrial sector.

    ¡°Heh, Jokes on you, I¡¯ve been prepared for this meeting for a while now.¡±

    Mitch sighed again on the other end.

    ¡°Just hurry up.¡±

    And hung up.

    Seth continued on at speed, only checking behind him to set his mind at ease. He¡¯d been chased off a few times before. Landing back down to street level, he powered into traffic just so things stayed less conspicuous. At least harder to see at a glance. Barreling into the industrial streets, Seth dodged around a cargo semi-truck as it pulled out of one of the depots. A little more asphalt turned to gravel and those metal feet were sliding into the yard of his work before the driver even knew he was there.

    United Armors, a once small time maintenance and aftermarket upgrade house for the sector turned underdog powerhouse of the entire powersuit industry. Seth hadn¡¯t done everything to get it there, but between his powers and the Garkah scientists in his head he had definitely given them their edge. It had taken a bit to even get there in the first place, but being the most senior employee had its advantages.

    He basically solos the entire maintenance floor most days, fixing suits faster than the dedicated machines of their competitors ever could. He also designed and created new suits for their in house bureau when orders were slow. But he¡¯d always been a little at odds with the upstairs corporate office over that. Apparently working there since he was fourteen was too long, or the new executives just saw him for his thread bare CV. The whole not having a degree thing was a bit of a pain. But then again there wasn¡¯t much they could do to stop him. He had stocks. Enough to take up a seat on the board as the head of maintenance.

    Mitch, United¡¯s COO and Seth¡¯s only real supervisor, was leaning against the main floor¡¯s doorframe. A completely unsurprised look stared back at Seth as he scraped to a halt over the yard¡¯s hardened concrete.

    ¡°¡­Meetings in 50, don¡¯t be late yada yada, I know you¡¯re not listening.¡±

    Mitch turned around, heading inside and back to said upstairs office, leaving Seth to stomp in behind him and berth his frame into a waiting workstation. The floor spreading out full of them and waiting for maintenance requests to come in. A looming two story office hanging above the floor for the less oil and metal stained work force. Pulling the recon suite out and plugging the exoskeleton into diagnostics, he secreting the suite back to the materials section he borrowed it from. A small alcove hidden below the offices that was both the bane of joy and the most desired place on the floor. Because it meant you weren¡¯t erroneously compared to Seth¡¯s ludicrous output.

    Though him coming in without shoes certainly wasn¡¯t going to help his image. But thankfully the connector suit had zippers, so skintight slippers it was. All done in less than two minutes, and not wanting to waste time doing nothing, Seth turned to the wall of waiting repair booths. While the maintenance floor had plenty of empty berths, it still become too crowded with orders over the years. So after a while the floor expanded up the wall to save space. Several recesses were built out from the original wall and more repair and maintenance berths were put in. Seth scanned about the frames in need, looking through the lists and picking and choosing the ones he thought he could get away with fixing one last time.

    Someone¡¯s personal model in for basic run down.

    ¡®Nah too simple. Don¡¯t want to step on any toes either.¡¯

    A yellow checkered industrial model that got pushed too long without maintenance.

    ¡®Don¡¯t have time for that.¡¯

    Some old military model with¡­ no arms.

    ¡®Yeah that¡¯s not happening.¡¯

    Ah, a security model with some light spalling and stripping on the shoulder and a lot of servo malfunctions.

    ¡®That''ll do.¡¯

    Seth stepped up to the repair wall, calling the service lift down. The unit was three levels up, but the booths were set in the wall deep enough so it was more claustrophobic than acrophobic.

    Model S2-10, security series two iteration ten. The shiny chrome body job made it rather distinct from the rest, a blue series of stripes on the chest denoted its purpose along with its model number. Better to have a bright and shiny guard out front than something less conspicuous. Or terrifying. This series though had systemic issues. Seth was only allowed to design the frame rather than the full suit for this one, and so corporate had skimped on the materials. So the other designers have been playing catch up ever since to work out how to keep them running. He was also pretty sure this was intentional so the designers were kept busy and on payroll, but who knows. Office politics weren¡¯t his forte or given a rats¡¯ ass about. The fix was easy enough actually, but needed some serious hardware to get done. Or just one expert super.

    He pulled the suit¡¯s primary release latch just around the collar, opening the main compartment like a human shaped lotus. Reaching inside, he pressed another button on the inside frame, the same place as his own. But this time the suit closed back up all but the chest and the outside paneling opened up instead. The outer joints and hinges all over the suit popping open to reveal concentric circular modules, the servos. It was easy to see some of them were already cracked, the stresses of use wearing down the cheap metals until they started to break up in their housings, causing undo resistance with the bearings and ultimately their destruction.

    Seth pulled one of the offending servos out, a hairline crack had started from the outside edge. Pulling the casing apart to reveal the bearing motor inside, he could see the damae was limited at least. He put it back together and set it down on a welding table behind the berth. The only way to fix it without straight up replacing the servo was to reinforce the housing, and that was easy with an arc welder, some special clamps, and an adjustable magnetic smelter. If that was even a thing. Because he already had everything right in his hands, so why bother.

    Flicking his right hand into a concentrated form, index and thumb ahead of everything else, he focused power into his fingertips until it was arcing between them occasionally. Pressing the servo down with his left, he did the same except poured it into either side of the crack in the housing. Feeling the metal recede ever so slightly from under his fingers, as he pushed the crack together. Then, he increased the outflow in his right, bringing it close and letting it arc into the crack until it was melting into an orange and red glow. The power from his left spreading deeper, gripping tight to the relatively conductive metal and keeping it together. Keeping it from flowing into the bearings while it fused. Once it was done and cooling, Seth stopped and wiped his thumb over the line to scrape away the excess. No fear of burning his hands on hot metal, at least not anymore.

    All in all it should hold as such, but it needed more to actually keep going. Seth put both hands to it, focusing harder on it until it got hot enough to fully glow. Softening it. Then he pulled all but one finger away, swirling the last one around the housing. A slight focus, an imparted flow, a magnetic field for the housing. Meaning even if it cracked to bits it would hold together, he just had to make a repellant field opposite of it so it didn¡¯t stick inside the suit.

    Each servo received the same treatment, even if they weren¡¯t cracked. The Garkah had taught him a great many things about his power, but some things he learned all on his own. A few too many magnetized cutlery and fried phones certainly taught him to control that.

    The blue flashing of Seth¡¯s arc welding lit up the booth as footsteps echoed onto the maintenance floor. Familiar, dismissive steps, it was Mitch come to drag him away. Seth peeked out from behind the frame before he could say anything about the flashing.

    ¡°It¡¯s time! Get down here!¡±

    He flashed a thumbs up and left the last servo on the table against the wall. Mitch turned to leave but spied one of the floor¡¯s arc welders at a workstation and turned back.

    ¡°Were¡­ were you just welding up there?¡±

    Seth turned to look at the softly glowing line in the last servo he just welded, then turned back with a false puzzled face.

    ¡°No.¡±

    Mitch mirrored his puzzled look, but shook it off and turned away again. Seth released his false posture.

    ¡®That was close.¡¯

    He hopped onto the service lift and set off to the meeting, grabbing his still rather laden backpack on the way by.

    ¡®Moment of truth.¡¯

    The boardroom wasn¡¯t much, though it didn¡¯t really need to be, the company was always pretty small. Little more than a designated projector room, with a simple oval conference table and chairs spread out and designated for the various departments. The current CEO Terrance, COO Mitch just taking his seat next to him, the Head of Sales David, Head of Procurement Kaysha, the ¡®Official¡¯ Design Head Kenneth, and now Seth.

    He had worked his way up to the design bureau in the first few years of his career. With a bit of help from the Garkah feeding him upgrade and tuning advice. By eighteen he was the de facto lead designer. At least while the old founder and CEO was still around. But times change and leading positions have standards like degrees and experience¡­ And stock valuation tied to name recognition. It helped that the old CEO left Seth enough stock to keep him at least nominally on the board, if only so he could maintain his autonomy. He was nice like that, the new corporate CEOs weren¡¯t. But, whether through annoyance or acknowledged incompetence, they never stuck around long.

    Seth put his pack at his feet, preferring to let the song and dance of business play out before letting everyone know what he had in store. Terrance straightening up first, preferring an orderly process of events.

    ¡°Now that we are all here, we can finally start. David.¡±

    The mildly balding man stood up and moved to the projector at the end of the table, Mitch flipped a switch against the wall to close the blinds and kill the lights.

    ¡°Our current quarterly projections¡­¡±

    ¡®Eh¡­¡¯

    The meeting proceeded with little info that Seth didn¡¯t already know just from watching TV, being right in the middle of it all, and having those analysts pulling data from all over. Sales were down again, some new regulations were looking to cut it some more so stocks were set for another tight year. The current policy of taking in other brands suits for repairs was covering the current revenue decline, but only just. Contracts were starting to dry up as super labor initiatives were hitting a new peak, and cost per hour calculations were not in their favor. There was some kerfuffle about the latest model being bottlenecked but¡­

    ¡°Seth?¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡±

    ¡°The new model?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, just finished the preliminary runs. The recon unit as well and¡­¡±

    ¡°We know.¡±

    Terrence interlocked his hands and leered at Seth, as Kaysha mouthed a ¡°Thank you!¡± for the little surprise he left on the suite¡¯s hard drive. A kindred soul stuck in the c-suite. And smothered by Terrence trying to keep order.

    ¡°We need that unit to keep this company afloat, if it even lives up to what you say it can do.¡±

    Seth grimaced slightly, but was expecting this.

    ¡°The units done, all that¡¯s left is manufacturing the plating and the drive system, all of which is ¡®outside¡¯ my purview for this. Though, if you¡¯ll take it, I have the specs and plans for the rest.¡±

    Seth pulled up his pack, unzipping and pulling out a dense folder labeled Series 4. Kenneth leered at this as Terrence turned his nose down.

    ¡°We don¡¯t need you doing everything again, just stick to your assignments and stop wasting company time.¡±

    ¡°You say that like I didn¡¯t do this at home.¡±

    Mitch sighed as the rest of the room grumbled.

    ¡°Seth, you need to let other people do the work. We can¡¯t run a company of just one employee.¡±

    Seth grimaced again, but relented.

    ¡°Fine. Then I guess you don¡¯t want the rest of Series 4 iterations,¡±

    Seth pulled out another folder, slightly more packed than the last.

    ¡°Upgrade notes for Series 5,¡±

    Another folder.

    ¡°Preliminaries for Series 6,¡±

    More folders.

    ¡°And all the iterations in-between.¡±

    The last of the folders plopped down to silence, though several stacks were labeled repair and maintenance notes. The room stuck staring while Kenneth was visibly mortified.

    ¡°What the hell!?! Why¡­ why am I even here if you can just crap out all this on a whim!?¡±

    Seth straightened and pulled out one last folder, thinner with a letter on the top.

    ¡°Because¡­ I¡¯m not going to be here for very much longer.¡±

    Mitch and Terrence both reeled in shock. Seth slid the folder over to them. The letter on top was of resignation, while the folder were his stocks.

    ¡°Wha¡­ You¡­ You¡¯re just leaving like that!? What about two weeks¡¯ notice? What about-¡±

    ¡°Hey, you all always wanted me out, and it¡¯s not like I¡¯m leaving you hanging.¡±

    He put a hand to the stack of folders.

    ¡°If you guys use these plans effectively I¡¯d say you can get a good¡­ five more years out of the company. You know, before the industry collapses.¡±

    David leered over.

    ¡°The hell do you mean by that?¡±

    ¡°You just finished a presentation on OUR slow decline in sales. How do you think everyone else is faring. And that gloom ain¡¯t going away anytime soon. These units will keep you all competitive. Hell, ahead of everything else by far. But the industries on its deathbed. Super labor is flooding the market, the League is churning through recruits and pushing them into work programs. The only future I see is either a graceful severance or falling into the villain markets, and you DO NOT want that.¡±

    The room was dead silent, but visibly irritated.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you do, what you think, or even if you use the plans I¡¯m leaving you. But I¡¯m out of here. It¡¯s been fun, great even. I couldn¡¯t have done all this without you, but I¡¯ve got my own plans.¡±

    Seth stood up and pulled his expended pack on.

    ¡°Here¡¯s hoping you do the smart thing.¡±

    And walked out the door to the shocked faces behind him. Mitch ran up and followed him out into the hall.

    ¡°What the hell?! Seth you can¡¯t drop this kind of bomb on us! Do you have any idea¡­?¡±

    Seth didn¡¯t stop walking out the offices.

    ¡°I told you I was prepared. You have everything you need, you just need to actually hire new mechanics and you¡¯re good.¡±

    Smiling all the way down the stairs, he stopped once he reached his station, unlocking his frame from its berth.

    ¡°Then where the hell are you going if this isn¡¯t enough for you? You¡¯re still under a non-compete clause.¡±

    ¡°Phh ha you think I¡¯m switching to someone like SynDef or Malachite, they make up most of the crap that I¡¯ve had to repair here. And again¡­ they¡¯re worse off.¡±

    Seth loosed his frame from its berth, hitting a latch on the inside back causing it to retract inward, arms and legs folding in like a ball. But he didn¡¯t even let the frame hit the ground. Muscle and energy denying gravity its due course before he had it hucked over his shoulder, all three hundred pounds of it. Mitch sure as shit wasn¡¯t expecting that.

    ¡°Heh¡­ Don¡¯t worry, this is just something I need to do. Debts aren¡¯t going to pay themselves.¡±

    Seth waved back and trudged off the floor, barely encumbered by the frame. He finally had some freedom, now he just needed to get the suit put together. It was time to get to some real work.

 Chapter 4: Silk, Dust, or A Thousand Pounds of Metal

    Seth berthed his exoskeleton back into his personal workshop with a weighty reverberating thunk. All that conductive metal, various linings and gels, and ancillary wiring already piled high on either side of him. The culmination of ten years of design work and planning was finally upon him. The door to his garage was shut tight, couldn¡¯t have anyone know just yet and interrupt what he had to do to get it all together. Also battlesuits weren¡¯t exactly legal to just make on your own.

    A few magnetic latches and a rattling hoist, and the skeleton was thoroughly set. Everything ready, he backed up and stretched out his hands. Focusing, concentrating power into them. Power enough to destroy, to over energize and melt, to magnetize and ruin. But also to create. Electrical arcs started racking between his fingers, ionized air particles beginning to glow around his arms. In one swift motion, he pulled his hands closed, locking in the amplitude so it was constant and known. It was mostly for show, but it had at least some purpose to it.

    He picked up a block of conductive alloy, the heavy metal weighing down his arm, and moved it over up to station. It reacted almost instantly to the power exuding from his hand, visibly shrinking and becoming denser and denser. Soaking up the electricity he¡¯d offered it, used it to become almost crystalline in strength. The flaky brittle exterior that so many passed off as a flaw was it key strength. Melted together in grinded powder, the mixed together conductors were subjected to extreme electrical currents as it cast. The result was a raucous storm of sparks and ruined molds, boiled layers only just staying together, but also pathways between those layers. Ones that, when offered what Seth gave off, turned the whole of its atomic structure into both battery and extension alike. And with his other hand he pressed down on a corner of the shrunken bar, and the metal gave way like clay.

    The Garkah had devised this stuff long ago, but had moved on from it. Made it a common sight. An alloy that showed the true extent of their abilities, yet remained strong when allowed to settle in with its feasted upon hoard. And oh boy was it greedy. Though that was their society in a nutshell, so it held no surprises. Metal was a literal part of their bodies, nearly flowed under their touch if they were skilled enough. And they had made far more stalwart amalgams in their heyday¡­ And near their end.

    Within a few minutes Seth moved his hand away and the metal bar was now shaped into a plate, the top plate of the helmet. Elongated and flattened, with two cut outs for it to fit onto a hinge. But he took the plate to his workstation first, it needed more layers and additions. Namely the ones from those stacked up boxes.

    He¡¯d ordered out for two extra layers, one a ceramic filler mixed with a heap of ferrite shavings, and the other a protective and adaptive gel so the suit could fit tight without chafing.

    The ferroceramics, something Seth came up with after getting a rather in depth military contract, acted to dissipate kinetic energy impacting the suit. Shattering like pottery instead of letting the force through. But the fillings were heavily magnetized before mixture, resulting in that shattered plate reforming to a degree, meaning it could continue to act as ceramic plating without the need to replace it. The gel layer was full of ferrite much the same, but to a finer degree. This allowed the Garkah to manipulate the gel layer as needed, so Seth wouldn¡¯t get crushed should that theoretical impact be too extreme. And to keep it snug, if not skin tight.

    Lastly to go into this plate was a view screen and vision system wiring bundle, a much smaller and simpler set of eyes than the recon suite he tested before. No sense limiting his vision just because he had to wear armor. A bit of hardened wiring sparing it from the inevitable overload it would endure. The plate completed, he slid it into place on the helmet frame¡­ On his workstation, not on his suit. This frame looked almost nothing like the one still on the exoskeleton, almost snout like and with hinging sockets for a lot of other plates.

    Work on one plate done, Seth moved on to the rest. Each plate formed by hand to the desired shapes printed out on the station¡¯s surface. Each needing to be at least close to exact before being fitted with layers, and either cushioned or wired up depending on where it went. A painstaking process, but a fulfilling endeavor. The cheek plates slotting into their lotused frame, the neck layers bents at just the right angle to slide smooth over each other and yet articulate fully. The small fiddly extras that slide into place out of the extra shavings, slotting where the top plate meet the main skeleton in excess cut outs.

    Last to go in were the eyes, heavily plated glass with the main cameras formed to the slit wide sockets. A little more aesthetic than functional, but he could see through them if all else failed. The helmet done, he lifted it up. It was heavy, really heavy, but he grabbed it by the inside collar with one hand and took it over to the exoskeleton. With his free hand he twisted the frame¡¯s helmet and pulled it off, tossing it aside like a burned disguise. A meaty clang signaled the real helmet falling into place, snapping it onto it rotation joint. A perfect fit, but was only the first part down. A whole body was left to go.

    Seth worked for hours on end, shaping metal, fitting, layering, creating a suit like nothing the world had ever seen before. Sure it had seen great models and daring feats, heroes in full plate do tremendous things. But this was his, and it would be a true extension of what he could do.

    When the plates were done he moved on to the servos he¡¯d ordered alongside the layers. Magnetic levitation servos, electromagnetic bearings that could hold up all this massed metal with barely a hint of resistance, while being damn near whisper quiet. Each needed to be crafted by hand from the parts ordered, though that didn''t have much meaning anymore. He couldn¡¯t trust overseas manufacturing, but neither could he trust local assembly.

    Even a single speck of that ferrite dust could disrupt them, so it was all on him and the Garkah to put them right. To make sure they ran smooth and played their full part in the whole of the suit. Acting as gateways between those capacitor-like plates. Taking in almost as much power as them, but using it rather than storing it. And there were a lot of them. From the main rings around each joint, to the tiny disks in each finger, even to the ones hidden deep in between armor plates.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Oddly, there were a few things like that all around the suit. Expansion joints that went farther than needed, overlapping plates that didn¡¯t seem necessary, transforming sections and hinges to everything inside, even retractable claws. The Garkah said it was an eventuality, a battle mode of sorts. Seth just saw it as disparate pieces, yet knew their significance. Knew what it meant to them. A familiar face to change perceptions when the worst came about. To see it doing good rather than¡­ what they did.

    The last addition though was practical, but still odd. A port, mechanism, and piping for a fire prevention system. Run all throughout the torso and extremities so he didn¡¯t suffocate on flame retardant. Seth tested it with his workshop¡¯s fire extinguisher, tearing away its hose and plugging the valve right into the port in the left wrist, firing it with a just managed hiss. It filled the small pressurized pipes that were its only storage, waiting to be released at the squeeze of a hand. The Garkah were the ones to require this addition, seeing the limitations of Earth¡¯s conductors and their tendency to meltdown if too much energy was put through them. And in battle Seth was going to be needing and output a lot of energy. Safeties in place, the suit was finished in its assembly, except for one final touch.

    Looking out at his work, Seth felt an itch. An aesthetic need to put something right. He stepped up and pressed the master release button. Panels opening heavy but prepared for their new weight. Seth already had his connector suit on and fully fitted, no baggy clothes to misalign his movements. He snapped it into its ports and locked the two of them together at long last. The panels closing over, sending him into darkness and metallic air for a brief second before the view screen flicked on. The onboard computer, or better yet the designated Garkah analysts who tapped into the suits hardcoded systems, scanned for defects and ran the small vents to clear the air up. Various diagnostics ran through from within the makeshift control room they had set up in his mental spotlight. A common feeling of all sensors green and clear coming through. So Speaker gave the go ahead.

    ¡°The suit is perfectly functional, all systems are working better than expected even.¡±

    Threat stepped on to the control room floor, feelings in sync with Seth¡¯s.

    ¡°You and I both know functionality isn¡¯t everything. Gotta make sure this thing looks amazing after all this work.¡±

    ¡®My thoughts exactly.¡¯

    Seth stepped off the berth with a tremendous unwieldy stomp, rattling the work lights and tools hung all around. A careful passing of all the excess materials and plating, a slow clearing of a space in the center of the garage. Each step and lean moving nearly a full ton of weight around like it was nothing, joints gliding along without strain but from muscle beneath it all. A deep focus needed to keep it all from overwhelming simple strength, but was little more than training weight for the power coursing through Seth¡¯s body.

    But¡­ the suit was odd looking, the shiny titanium frame bordering each plate clashed against their matte exteriors. So Seth and Threat decided to test the suits mettle¡­ err¡­ metal. And see just how worthy he was of having their power.

    From his central point, he focused, not on his hands, not on his body, but the whole of the suit surrounding him. The iron particles in the gel, the ferroceramic plates, the main capacitor plates over them, everything. The flow of energy from the Garkah controllers to the suits systems, the flow from him to the capacitors. Years of training and lectures paying off as his senses tightened down those lines of electricity. Feeling their ebb and flow in frantic order, like blood and nervous signal wrapped into one. Before all of it fell onto those aesthetically pale plates, each unrefined section, each part of this expansive battery. Each separated and divided.

    ¡®Not anymore.¡¯

    Seth doubled his focus in a flash down those plates, his will becoming electricity and heating them to a steaming disinfecting. Controllers monitored their hardcoded sensors made sure the suit wasn¡¯t about to meltdown.

    ¡°We will exceed the baseline heat tolerance in 10 seconds. Make this quick.¡±

    ¡®Only need 5.¡¯

    With little warning Seth¡¯s full power tore across the suit, danced across its outer edges like plasma fingers shaping it further. Arcing surges blurring out his garage for all its used up need. Plates spread as if they were under enormous pressure. Magnetic pull or focused might no longer matter in their distinctions, this was his power to wield, his will made manifest. The frame disappeared under reforming metal, joints covered in extending plating, borders lost to smooth angular surface. And last, a light grey sheen brought to the surface of the pliable metal, polished in scoring rake till that matte lost out. Though not quite to reflecting gleam or chrome exuberance. Just enough to say this was his, this was him.

    A cloak of heated air and steam the only by-product of his exertion from here on out. The suit was done, and ready for a real fight. Heavy gauntlet crushing tight their new splendor, metallic scrape and slam scratching at the surface, but reforming under directed familiar drive. It was a true extension now, his and his alone. It was time for Seth to use all this power for good. It was time for him to join the League like he¡¯d wanted. Since that day so very long ago.

    Or¡­ well tomorrow was the day to join the League. That tight fist slumping a little, Seth finally feeling all the weight bearing down on him. This suit had no motors to carry this bulk around so it was all him moving it. And focusing that much energy around was taxing to an extreme he barely ever reached. Not to mention it was already dark outside.

    ¡®Wait, why can I-¡¯ *crash*

    The garage door just fell in like a crumpled tissue trying to stand up. In fact a lot of metal in the garage was pulled and bent inward toward him. All his focus and effort apparently not at focused as he thought. And he probably overdid it a little.

    A straining but smirk filled retreat back to the berth, what was left of it, and he was hitting the primary release latch around his neck. The whole helmet rising up slowly so as not to catch and rip anything off. Though it still could fold up and over his back if he hit a separate button inside. The rest of the suit opening up to a short puff of more heated air. A hot box of ozone and searing metal. But it was well at truly his, even as he stumbled out and rolled as much muscle as he could for relief.

    A careful hand pushed the crumpled garage door back in line, trying at least a little bit not to send it screeching for mercy. The lock was toast, but it was fine. Someone would need a heavy life crane to get his suit out. Sorely eking in to the night, he climbed the stoop back into his building, slowly ascending the stairs to his door so Ms. Mahan would be disturbed. He pulled into his apartment and pulled off the connector suit, judging a few of the sockets just in case they¡¯d melted a little. But the soreness was getting to him, so he left in for later. He was already set for tomorrow, so the bed was too inviting. Catching him as he crashed into it and let the future lull him to sleep.

    A future¡­ smothered in his past.

 Chapter 5: Where it Started and How its Going

    *Hassshh*¡­jish¡­xish¡­xing¡­xike¡­wake¡­*

    *wake¡­*

    ¡°Wake¡­up!¡±

    ¡°WAKE UP!!¡±

    Like it was his first time ever, like there was nothing before but all after, Seth shot awake. Surprise and shock in equal measure, blank memory and yet residual adrenaline running their courses. Until both were stifled by the weight pressing against him. A comforting feeling. A familiar feeling.

    The closet, the mountain of clothing burying him. Nothing had moved, nothing had changed. The light of the outside world still shined through its upward pinhole. Though shifted from the dim blue of dawn to the burnt orange of approaching dusk. He¡¯d¡­ fallen asleep? Been out for a long while. A faint recollection held, a want to sleep in fulfilled. But now the will to get up was finally there. Yet¡­ his body refused to budge.

    Not from the weight of the coats, the shirts, the pants, and everything in between. But from the weight of itself. The weight pressing him down was his own. So sapped and weak, he couldn¡¯t even free himself from a few layers of clothing. Though the vacuum on his foot really wasn¡¯t helping.

    But still, this weight was comforting in its own right. Surrounded by the softness of the forgotten, and with no energy to expend, that will to be productive was waning hard. So Seth just felt like going back to sleep. Back the rest he was denied before¡­? Something. What woke him up before?

    But as soon as he sunk his head down into that confused drift, he regretted it. For every coat and jacket and discarded piece of clothing in this closet hid something.

    A hanger.

    The cold metal poke sprang him out of his drift, jabbing at the back of his head like a sickle. And bring attention to all the other hangers in this mountainous pile. One was hooked around his jacket sleeve, one was poking him in the ribs, a further two were hooking his pajama pants, and finally one threatened his face if he were to ever rise out of this twisted pincushion of a cradle.

    Trapped, tired, and barely able to¡­ to remember what happened.

    ¡®What¡­ happen?¡¯

    He remembered getting out of bed, walking around Tlatoani, seeing his parents. But it all felt jumbled. Fuzzy. Like¡­ like he¡¯d never remembered stuff before. Like this was all he had. He knew he had more, knew there was more. Growled at the emptiness he shouldn¡¯t have. He tried again, strained to find it, but all he got was almost literal static. And¡­ words? He couldn¡¯t understand them and¡­

    *Haassh¡­ecsh¡­ecoutez¡­liutez¡­listen¡­*

    ¡°LISTEN!!¡±

    Out of the mental fuzz came a voice, one he could understand after it passed through several layers of static and random sounds. One of them sounded like Spanish, like a radio was dialing through channels. He looked around his hand-me-down tomb but saw no source.

    ¡°Lisshh¡­ Listen!¡±

    He frantically searched, whipping his head from every glinting hanger to too small graphic tee, to coats older than he was and every corner of that only hole in-

    ¡°llllisten¡­ to¡­ Me!!¡±

    Suddenly Seth¡¯s head felt as if it were being held in place. Like large hands were wrapped around his head. His eyes defocusing, as if trying to see someone close up. But there was nothing there, no one there. Just the empty space colored dusky orange.

    ¡°ssssSorry, you were scaring us a little.¡±

    The voice, clearer and softer, spoke like it was trying and calm him. Coming off jaded, guilty, yet still sincere. If failing a little.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we aren¡¯t here to hurt you.¡±

    The voice was so low, almost inaudible. But was the only sound there even was with the world so closed and deadened by fabric. So it was all Seth had. He tried to ask who they were, wanted to scream for help, but¡­ but¡­

    ¡°h¡­¡±

    He couldn¡¯t. It was like he knew what to say but couldn¡¯t remember how to say it. Like he couldn¡¯t speak with his own mouth.

    *hissshh*¡±¡­Oh, that¡¯s uh¡­ complicated.¡±

    But¡­ the voice responded anyway. Like it didn¡¯t matter, like there were no barriers between his thought and this strange voice holding him still.

    ¡°Oh yeah, ugh sorry about your erm *hhissh*¡­ voice. We had to¡­ borrow it. So we could learn to speak to you. Don¡¯t worry, we can give it back to you. It just might be¡­ a while. Each of us needs to use it to learn and there¡¯s a lo- *hsh* *sigh* Just don¡¯t worry, okay.¡±

    Seth¡¯s vision refocused and his head seemed freed from its phantom grasp, but he knew deep down now where this voice was coming from. It was inside his head.

    ¡°Yeah sorry again, we needed someone to take us in, but we weren¡¯t expecting to all be in just one¡­ *hsh*¡±

    The voice responded to Seth¡¯s thoughts, his feelings, but also to someone else. He couldn¡¯t understand them, but felt their apprehension-

    Wait, he could feel a lot of things. There was fear... directed at him. There was guilt. A lot of guilt. And-

    ¡°Heh, yeah. *hish* Cat¡¯s¡­ out of the bag? What¡¯s a cat? Anyway, yeah, what you¡¯re feeling is everything we are. Call it a side effect of what happened- *HHHSSshhh* WE are a part of you now, kind of. And, by extension, you are a part of us, kind of. It¡¯s just some of us are a little concerned what this might cause and want to keep separate. But I think you need someone to talk to, or at least someone to help you understand. And really, we are all in this together so leaving you out of this like some kind of¡­ beast of burden? Your sayings are weird. It¡¯s only going to make things worse for all of us. So¡­ So what do you saaa- oops sorry. What do you think? You okay with us... being here a bit?¡±

    Seth felt a numbing, the other emotions ebbing away. Like they were lessened so he could think. He didn¡¯t know what all of this was, who all these people were. Or even what they were. A small want to panic trying to unravel all the progress made but¡­ But of everything he felt, none of it was hatful or angry. He thought of why they were here, what they needed from him, but couldn¡¯t feel anything extreme. He couldn¡¯t remember what happened, how he got buried or why he was so tired, but he felt as if these people were all affected by it as well. Like what was supposed to happen didn¡¯t and now they are all stuck. Just like him. Or at least stuck with him.

    Sympathy, guilt, and¡­ hope. That he would accept this strange situation.

    He thought again, this time with focus, this time directing it at the others now seemingly camping out inside his head.

    ¡®o¡­ o¡­ Okay.¡¯

    Words forming where he couldn¡¯t say aloud. The numbness falling away as direction became clear, replaced by a rush of the stifled emotions. Relief predominantly among them. And a smile almost outright felt by the one closest to him.

    ¡°Thank you. And here, let¡¯s see if we can¡¯t get you out of this pile.¡±

    At this Seth felt an odd tingle, an almost electrical buzz through his entire body. And with it, the weight dragging him down lifting off. In fact, he felt lighter than ever. All the tired ache in his muscles falling away, like they were swelling and relaxing all on their own. All the cold pokes just becoming mild annoyances. All the stuff piled over him just nothing at all. He moved to lift the top off his thrift store sarcophagus, but despite his now revitalized body, he was stopped. More appropriately snagged by the ever present hangers.

    ¡°hrrrmmm!¡±

    Strength wasn¡¯t much without leverage.

    ¡°Oh, yeah, here I think I can get those for¡­ Wait why¡¯s that-¡±

    Without warning that tingle returned and spiked. Every hair on his body stood on end. And all those twisted hangers seemingly receded into the cloth walls. But Seth could not only feel their growing absence, but also their movement. Like he could feel every one of them, even the ones not close to him, even the ones that stayed up on their racks. Like that radio wasn¡¯t just metaphorical and his sense of touch was out of wake as well. But, in that same instant he felt them, they not only receded but shot away at speed.

    Simple metal forms turned ballistic projectiles, repelled violently away by force completely out of nowhere. Imbedding them into the walls of the closet. The vacuum pinning his feet included, smashing plastic bits apart as its metal core impacted deep. But¡­ but now that he was free¡­ the only thing Seth could feel¡­ Was a searing screaming pain!

    One of the hangers had hooked his thigh on the way away and gashed it across. Blood splattering his pajamas in frantic beats, as cold replaced what should be warm!

    ¡°*HHSH* OKAY!! That was NOT supposed to happen!!¡±

    Reeling, curling up in squeaking muted pain, he threw away what clothes he could grab at. Digging desperately out and away while the gash in his leg yelled for attention. Ripped edges demanding restitution for the loss and taking it out on him. But Seth couldn¡¯t even vocalize any of it, only managing hollow wheezes and streaming tears. Once his wound was uncovered he saw more blood than he¡¯d ever seen, his grey pajamas now soaked and tattered, and the gash¡­

    The gash was gone!?

    ¡°There¡­ huh that was close. That was apparently a very bad artery to hit. Also didn¡¯t think you¡¯d take to the power so¡­ easily.¡±

    The gap in his pajamas, frayed and rippled, now only showed pale skin between dark red spread. Still covered in loose blood, but no grievous wound that had been demanding what he couldn¡¯t offer. Seth was speechless¡­ err¡­

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s one of the perks of being *hhsshhs*, get to heal pretty easy. Even force it with enough focus at it. It¡¯s just a lot harder to numb the pain. But don¡¯t worry, we can teach you- *Hhsh* Yes WE can- *hshshhh* You saw¡­!¡±

    The voice receded as if stepping away from in front of him, like all his attention was taken up by whoever they were. Leaving Seth to poke the now closed wound. Probing for anything to tell him he was dreaming or that he was ever hurt so badly. Except it was just his leg, fully healed up if not better. Just the shock and residual sensations left to know he was even hurt. Leaving him with nothing soiled pajamas and the wider world to take in.

    Boxes on shelves had overturned, poured once vacuum sealed stuff out like dump trucks to a pit. The racks lining the walls were almost barren¡­ And bent away in places. The walls were all skewered with hangers, most so deep in that barely a corner stuck out from the cracks and holes. Seth turned around to look behind him and saw more violent hanger-wall interactions, but what dominated the back wall was a massive crater caving it in. The one¡­

    The one he made¡­

    As he was shot back.

    As he was struck by that lightning bolt.

    As his mind faded away.

    As he was watching-

    ¡®MOM, DAD!!!¡¯

    He shot up, ducking past the handle of the vacuum that was still sticking out of the wall, climbing over the discombobulated doors that leaned every which way. He though he heard that voice return, try and tell him something, but only a whisper came through as his own fear buried the emotions desperately trying to get through. As he finally made it to the door frame he¡¯d frozen at.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Outside the sun was setting, hanging off to his left, still lighting up his street. The burnt orange light had darkened, but all he could see¡­ all there was¡­

    Was nothing.

    Where his neighbors, friends, his parents were stood, there was barely anything even signifying they were ever there. Just empty streets, grass and asphalt, homes and¡­ And a red scarf caught on his front step. Blowing in the wind. Blowing away from the sun like it was a stellar wind. His breath caught in his throat, he could barely process what he was seeing, what it meant. But in that moment, Seth saw what was truly left.

    That wind carrying tatters, barely pieces of cloth wisping past. Pools of what were once pants and shirts in places it couldn¡¯t touch, pieces draped and caught on every edge broken and blown out of his neighborhood. On the slinters, the glass, the holes, the burns. Every shattered window, every broken car, every devastated doorway. Everything facing that wind. That hot oppressive wind.

    He turned to it, to wish it was the sun just shy of the trees. But there was no such light shining to warm his face. Only a wall of black lit red. As if the horizon was on fire, and he had a front row seat.

    As all that strength given faded away to crushing weight once again. And dropped him to that catching stoop, scarf scooped up and hugged for all the warmth it still had. So little in spite of that burning horizon. As time failed to hold him. And everything collapsed in on itself.

    Seth stayed sat on that front step for what seemed like hours, head sunken into dampening folds of his mother¡¯s scarf. The winds had died down as the light faded. A light drizzle starting and sapping everything left away. But the fires on the western horizon still burned. Still lit it with lapping inferno and gritty rain drops.

    But he didn¡¯t care, he couldn¡¯t care. He¡­ he couldn¡¯t even cry. For his mom, his dad, his neighbors, for anything. Stuck, just sat there face down in that scarf feeling nothing when he should be feeling something, anything. Desperately wanting to just disappear into the folds and never come out. Because he shouldn¡¯t be feeling nothing.

    The drizzle continued, the pattering of drops across the dead town the only sound left to it. No crickets, no birds, nothing but rain. A slight gust and shift of the wind, and for a second the drizzle subsided to silence. Long enough for that voice, that thing in his head from before, to try calling out to him. To tell him it was okay, it was all okay. But the rain stifled them before it could reach anything but that strange emotion sharing. All of it lost to the pattering.

    But¡­ but the event was enough to snap him out of this muted and numb sorrow. To take in the change of day at least. To see the sun had gone down and the world was moving on without him. And to notice the growl of his stomach against inadvertent neglect.

    He was hungry. Very hungry. So, left with nothing but himself, he got up from that step with effort enough to sink a battleship in his wake. Turning about to get out of the hot rain beating against his scalp, and heading back inside. Heading toward the kitchen with nothing but a cramping stomach guiding him on.

    The rain was softened by the home, but still reverberated through it. Mostly because the door was now permanently open. But the rumble of his thorough emptiness would have drowned out everything anyway. So that not even those internal feelings could get through to him.

    Once in the kitchen though, he saw what was left of his parent¡¯s morning. Cold coffee, cold over-steeped tea, and all the tools and fixings for waffles. Seth hungrily shuffled over and reached up to the counter he just barely peaked over. Pulling down the waffle iron and hugging it close with all the strength he had left. Setting it on the floor so he didn¡¯t have to reach, forgetting it had a plug but who cared anymore.

    Then he grabbed at the mixing bottle left beside it. A familiar smell flared that growling pit, demanding he open it already. Inside he saw the distinct sparkle and swirl of brown sugar in the batter. His parents knew he liked it, even when they messed it up and added too much cinnamon or cranberries or just other stuff that didn¡¯t belong. But¡­ but they only made it right on special days so¡­

    ¡®What day is it?¡¯

    He still couldn¡¯t remember much, like half of his mind was just a blank. But he still knew enough. Looking toward the fridge he saw their calendar had fallen from it, as had all the magnets keeping it up. It was the Heroes of East Asia edition, though he knew next to nothing about the region beyond what the first few months had on them.

    His parents liked to tell him all about who was on display, what their country was like. It was kinda cheesy, but he knew them by heart that way. Though the heroes from all these different countries got mostly overshadowed by the more local stars. Hard to forgot what you saw on TV just yesterday.

    The calendar though was splayed every which way, so he got to peek at the ones they hadn¡¯t gotten to yet. Like Japan and Korea and some places called Mainland Taiwan. But despite that, the days were all marked down so he could see which pages to ignore for now.

    He found July, the calendar showing a propaganda poster of Major Nguyen, or at a bunch of him, lifting a stereotypically American tank from over top of a family. His mom had said it was a different time or something, but he didn¡¯t know why that was. Vietnam sounded so nice, if a bit hot. The days on the calendar proper though were barely marked two weeks in, but¡­

    But he¡­

    He could see what was written on¡­

    On the last date.

    The current date.

    Saturday 13<sup>th</sup>

    *Seth¡¯s Birthday*

    The calendar slipped from his hands. Hungry strength slipping from his legs and everything else. He fell to his knees still half stained in hours old blood. The gravity of his whole world was coming down upon him. The meager sliver that was left of it. He¡¯d lost his parents, his town, his piecemeal happy life that seemed made of Swiss cheese. All of it was gone. All of it taken away¡­ on his birthday. Why¡­

    Why¡­?

    ¡®WHY!?!¡¯

    Without warning the lights in the kitchen started flickering, practically strobing. The waffle iron left unplugged on the floor started heating, smoking, melting in on itself. The fridge shook and rumbled, the stove tops lit up and burned, the oven garbled its counters and overheated, and the coffee maker sputtered itself apart. Silverware became a symphony in their drawers, handles and rails shaking with them. The sink groaned and leaked and sprayed as its heads came free. Outside the window the entire town began flashing in course. Car alarms blaring, entire houses flickering in the dark ashy rain. Sirens for disasters warbling like they couldn¡¯t hold their failed duties.

    The streetlights went first, shattering in sequence away from the home, filaments exploding with too much power to hold behind glass. Then came the cars, their batteries running off and melting down as their lights shared their fates. Transformers on their poles soon flashing in spectacular overload across the town, the entire grid rerouting backwards into them without care for what they already contained.

    The first exploded, thundered against the dark in green arcing fire, igniting farthest away from this gradually emptying town. The rest following suit, detonating in sequence and lighting up the storm and ash coating the sky. Splaying their powerlines in arcing catastrophe. Concentric rings flowing back toward their only accepted output. Toward Seth.

    His knees charred the floor below him, a burgeoning grimace trying to break through his enforced emotionless hell. As he just stared down at that now charring calendar caught under his fallen hands, eyes unable to look away from its message even as it burned away. As his stained pajamas and failing jacket burned with it. The dead magnets strewn across the floor revived and crawled toward his legs. The barest amount of emotion soon forcing its way to the surface. His teeth gritted, his fists clenched across blistering linoleum. His thoughts spiraling completely out of control. Spiraling down to inscrutable emptiness!

    Seth was losing it, the transformers on his street were popping and now the power sockets were burning, plastic covers lighting on fire and drywall curling back in pain. The final transformer outside his house finally exploded sending a shower of green sparks dancing across the lawn. The sockets finally gave out and shot pure streams of electricity straight out of their melting cooper toward the swirling field forming around him. The magnets, the burning calendar, the once cold drinks, everything not nailed down in the kitchen was churning around him like a maelstrom. The table, the chairs, the slag that was the waffle iron. Plastic and wood caught and burning around screws, the drawers disgorging and sparking their clashes into the whirling metal storm like an out of control microwave.

    All as Seth clenched tighter, now bleeding from his palms. His teeth almost cracking from the pressure subjected to them without will enough to care. Everything was lost, everything was gone. He was all that was left and barely had anything to show for it. A life full of holes, full of darkness and nothing! The only thing he had, the only thing he was allowed, the only thing screaming in the beat of his heart in his ears-

    Was finally snapping all of it apart.

    He snapped, his teeth snapped, his palms snapped, and the sky snapped with him. From that pitiful light drizzle outside came a lightning bolt straight through the house. Tearing through the roof and his parent¡¯s bedroom, burning a hole straight to the kitchen. Straight to the only thing left in his entire world.

    ¡°AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!¡±

    He yelled, yelled like he¡¯d never done before, the lightning screaming with him, channeling straight into him. The kitchen burned, was blasted apart. The windows blew out, and the vortex turned into shrapnel. The power tearing through him denying that emotional dam, refused that muted sorrow. A path burned parallel like his nerves were on fire. Like he was on fire. But nothing could be as bad as it already had been.

    The lightning subsided first, plunging the world into violently drained darkness. Even as the last dregs of Seth¡¯s throat sputtered his defiance to the oncoming silence. Then he fell, releasing and dropping down into a curled up ball in the now dark and decimated kitchen. His eyes forced closed, his palms bleed dry, the floor a smoking crater of overcharged wrath.

    The rain was stopped and the town gone silent. The dam broken open, in spite of whatever put it there. As a single tear streaked down his face in some horrific pyrrhic victory. As that silence was refused in whimpering sob. As he was finally able to cry for his destroyed life.

    And as the blasted world he was left with faded away to-

    *rRr r-*

    The alarm clock blaring for barely a note before it too was silenced.

    Seth felt like he was fully awake, or better yet like he could barely stand to sleep in the first place. The nothingness of his nocturnal life barely leaving a thought behind. He was too excited to feel bad about it. What was a dream anyway? But still, his groggy eyes felt watery. So maybe there was something. Or he really was just tired beneath the excitement. Because joining the League of Supers was about the only thing he could call a dream in his life. Or better yet, a promise.

    And now. Now he was really doing it. He¡¯d had to cut things close to the start of their application deadline, basically their start date, but materials take time. And the serendipity of it all seemed to like him.

    He was up and his bed made in short order. A plain grey t-shirt and fresh khaki cargo pants slipped on in a snap. And actual shoes put on so he wasn¡¯t wearing connector slippers like yesterday. A good few torn pairs forcing him to choose heavy duty work boots over simple tennis shoes. Though his spares were packed as well, along with plenty more he could want along with him.

    A rucksack lying next to the door, stuffed full of everything he had. So not really much other than clothes and souvenirs. If he was ever coming back here it wouldn¡¯t be for a while, so the last of his food had to go as well. A loaded down slice of toast with peanut butter and banana already getting eaten. And his application form for the League¡¯s recruitment course spread out on the table in front of him for review.

    Some of the info had to be fudged a little, all the files on him were in limbo since the orphanage closed. But he wasn¡¯t a complete ghost. Plenty of tax forms to say he existed at least. But a good bit of his records were cobbled together from what he could apply for once he actually turned eighteen. Which wasn¡¯t a whole lot, but being an orphan was the poor man¡¯s version of cutting red tape.

    Seth Tarrow. Age: 24. Hair: white. Eyes: hazel. Blood type:

    ¡®Eh¡­ unknown.¡¯

    Height: 5''.11'''' Weight: 178

    ¡®ish.¡¯

    Address: 20090 Mako Rd. Apartment: 304. City: Kadia

    ¡®Yadda yadda, nothing I can¡¯t talk out of if it came to it.¡¯

    Mostly why you want to be a hero stuff and description of your power set. He¡¯d gone with simple super strength and speed, with a bit of containment leaked in so he could justify the suit. Static discharge was a common enough by product to warrant, and aesthetics could cover the design. And this recruitment course was months of work just to see if you¡¯re even capable. Plenty of time to prove his worth before anyone really knew his full strength. And eventually started asking questions. He needed to show he wasn¡¯t like the rest¡­ wasn¡¯t his parents. He could control this. That was the entire idea behind the suit after all.

    Fed and ready, Seth set out to grab said suit. Taking on last look over his dingy apartment for everything it meant. Stepping out and locking it up for a hopeful good. And ending up with Ms. Mahan on intercept course, climbing the stairs again after getting her mail.

    ¡°Morning¡­ Ms. Mahan¡­¡±

    Seth wasn¡¯t good with actual goodbyes. He met her at the landing to her apartment, shouldered rucksack making it obvious he was leaving for a while.

    ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Oh! Just go follow your dream already!¡±

    Seth went flat.

    ¡°What? You thought you were sneaky about it? Well ¡®Old Ms. Mahan¡¯s¡¯ been around the block more times than you could imagine. Seen enough young kids go off to do good in this world. Seen them get the shit knocked out of them sure, but you can¡¯t keep em down for long. And let me tell you something¡­¡±

    She squinted close, her oddly blue eyes more apparent.

    ¡°You¡¯ve gottem beat in more regards than you know. So don¡¯t let anyone tell you otherwise, you understand. You deserve this chance. Now go and beat the crap out of whatever they throw at you. And come back a hero, I don¡¯t want to be the only one living in this dump.¡±

    Seth shook off the sudden cascade of unexpected motivation, he knew she was keeping quiet but this was something else. He nodded and turned down the stairs, a hell of a smile knocked onto his face.

    ¡°And if you get the chance¡­¡±

    Seth turned back as she was closing her door.

    ¡°Tell Aegis to stop holding back so much.¡±

    Seth froze.

    ¡®Wait, how does she-¡¯

    But she slammed her door shut and broke his questions apart. He shook the feeling away, he needed to focus. Storming outside, he skipping the stoop again and flinging the hastily repaired garage door up without a second thought. The full suit was hunkered down in its berth, ready to be picked up and hauled all the way to The Hill.

    And that¡¯s exactly what he was going to have to do. The bus sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to handle this much weight. And it was one thing to storm across the city with an empty suit frame. He couldn¡¯t get away with that in a fully enclosed battlesuit. Probably get arrested in seconds and have to deal with explaining things way too early. If they even believed him. A few too many villains had  found powersuits useful for evening the odds, so sentiment wasn¡¯t what it used to be.

    He stuffed his rucksack into the torso and folded the whole suit up, the chest cavity staying spacious enough while the arms and legs scrunched tight. Reaching around, he grab the whole thing by hold at the scruff of its neck, straining just enough yet still tossing it over his shoulder. Thudding the air as too much weight found its seat. One last look back and his garage was shut tight for the last time. And a new journey just starting. Something he just kept ended up walking, for some reason.

 Chapter 6: First Steps Usually Have More Grandeur and Less Traffic

    ¡°Welp¡­ today¡¯s the day.¡±

    *bzzbz* ¡°Wait, seriously? You¡¯re calling in the favor now!?!¡±

    ¡°What, you thought this it was going to wait till after you graduated?¡±

    *bzzbz* ¡°Wel-¡±

    ¡°Well suck it up little missy. I¡¯ve been watching him for decade and change. All you have to do is manage a few months.¡±

    *bzzbz* ¡°But it¡¯s¡­ Ughhh¡±

    *bbzzz*

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You won¡¯t have to push things. Just do what you do best and don¡¯t single him out. Not like that was going to happen anyway little miss people watcher.¡±

    ¡°*bz*ery funny. I¡¯m throwing th*bzz* stupid radio away now!¡±

    *BBZZZzzzzzzz*

    *click*

    The dark light of massed screens and curated curtains barely cast her silhouette out the window. Watching one of the greatest purposes of her life disappear down the street he¡¯d chosen out of everything he could have. All that she¡¯d done to help from the shadows. All the strings and records she¡¯d pulled to keep him hidden. To let him have a life. And yet he was still off to choose for himself. Her heart ached, but it was all she could do. And it was fun, hadn¡¯t had a good mission like this in years. So to see it end was fulfilling in its own right. But looking down on the hand drawn picture in her hand, it all felt surreal.

    Tents only just colored and shaded but exceptionally detailed, boxes stacked just high enough to sit on should the need arise. And two figures having found that need. One suited in grey, topped with tan and brown streaks and smiling. Practically giggling despite the grim context. Despite it almost being the last time she ever would. And the other, drooped low under a baseball cap only just able to keep back his over grown brown hair. A smile all the same as hers, but weighted heavily beneath all that was upon him that day. It was the first day they met, the last time they¡¯d seen each other. So hopefully it was time to rectify that disparity. Because it was time for her to step up to the plate.

    <hr>

    Sidewalks creaked and buried hollows echoed under foot. People dodged and gawked out of his way. So one even tried to thank him for his service. All the while his arm burned a little beneath expending stores of electricity. And knees weren¡¯t liking the state of things either. Well, what did Seth expect? Carrying over a thousand pounds of metal wasn¡¯t going to be an easy jog. But it wasn¡¯t too much of a problem. He was going to a training course for hero recruits. This was probably going to be his life for a few months. Though he at least hoped to be wearing the suit rather than hauling it around. And at least the weather was pleasant.

    Kadia, both its immediate limits and its surrounding region, were the picture of a moderate sustainable metropolis. Spreading out over the foot hill hemmed bay that made up the end point of the roaring Terrace River. Downtown radiating out from a couple of purpose built districts. The park that was destroyed yesterday was the business district. Lots of names on buildings too high to really care to look for.

    The main portion of the residential areas bulged out of the central district. The one with The Hill at its center. Skyscrapers rising up higher the closer you got to a district¡¯s center, and then flattened out inversely. Plenty of glitzy penthouse suits looking out to the less developed shoreline, mixed in with stacks of apartments of every worth. Living in the city was downright enjoyable if not just relaxing.

    The only dingy spot on the map was the industrial district that clogged up the east side around the bend in the river. The current slowing and allowing ship traffic to enter more easily from the sea side. And most of the run off and fumes stayed on that side of the city as well, ocean winds pushing it over the ridge beyond it. Though it wasn¡¯t like there were full on refineries here, just general manufacturing and processing. The steel furnaces were about as bad as it got.

    And speaking of bad, that was about the worst things were most days. Just some ash on the wind. That was thanks to the League¡¯s decades of peace keeping efforts and community programs trying to keep the city just as prosperous as it was¡­ well just. Not a minute goes by where there¡¯s not a hero stopping something from getting worse. Thefts were down year over year, petty crime not too necessary when you had welfare programs keeping a roof over your head and your family fed. Violent stuff never increased but it certainly never lasted long. The occasional bank robbery or villain attack getting called out, cleared, and dealt with before anyone really got hurt. And healthcare was top notch with the right supers on call. The greatest recurrent threat, aside from Terrorfirma yesterday, has just been seasonal forest fires. And all that does is keep some of the lower tier heroes busy for a few months out of the year.

    So, the city was quiet. Just the usual din of commuters and traffic accentuated by intermittent crowds that thronged the occasional street market or shopping center. High rise and deep built parking garages kept the traffic congestion to a nice minimum. So much so that whole side streets were repurposed on set days of the week. Like farmers markets with less produce. Seth had gone to a few looking for any pieces of kit that could catch his eye, but it was mostly knickknacks, junk, and souvenirs. An¡­ unfortunate lot¡­ of souvenirs.

    He stopped coming to them after he saw a stand selling jars filled with... with black dust. They barely knew what it was. No¡­ no they knew and didn¡¯t care. It was an oddity, a think to take with you and remember what happened. To forever know what happened. Ignoring that that dust was all that was left of his-

    ¡®Hrrgggrrrr¡­ huh¡­ huuuuuuu.¡¯

    It was done, it was long ago. They were gone, so it was better to remember them as they were. His hand gripped tighter to the handle on his shoulder, feeling for something in his bag sequestered away. That better reminder. A better worry. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    And maybe a helpful reminder of the present to worry about. Because the people going about their own days¡¯ were watching him deal poorly with his. Stuck out of his pace and shaking away from the past. He heard a few assume him to be a hero given the ridiculous weight on his back. Some worry they more were about to thank him kept his head down as he returned to trudging toward the Hill. Those misunderstandings quieted as soon as they understood it was a suit hucked over his shoulder. As they saw its face to face.

    Powersuits had been losing favor in the public eye ever since some idiot in another city went on spree of robberies. Tearing through shops and banks like they were paper bags. Weaker villains always found them very enticing as an equalizer. And apparently quite a few wealthy scions saw them as an easy means to clout and hero-dom. Though that was the realm of the more high class brands, the stuff that never graced United Armors even at its height.

    Seth never had time to correct all the misunderstanding, nor really the will. If they wanted to be ignorant, that was on them. And applications closed less than an hour before the training class started up proper, so he had to keep moving anyway. Luckily he wasn¡¯t stopped by any actual heroes, or the cops. Hauling a legally grey battlesuit through downtown would still have been an issue, just one with an easier means to explain.

    Thankfully the street market had offered a nice bit of cover along with its pain points, and it flowed right into that central district¡¯s main thoroughfare. A long stretch of open walking path, softened asphalt, and brickwork. Almost an open air mall but with less shops and more offices. Super labor wasn¡¯t going to coordinate itself, and it paid to be the first place to catch you should you fall from the great height at the paths precipice. Because Seth had finally reached The Hill, and realized he had forgotten the other issue awaiting him.

    The Hill was the League of Supers¡¯ main hub for the entire Kadia metropolitan area and surrounding areas covered by smaller League outposts, meaning this base held sway over practically three states worth of territory. It boasted several hangers for both VTOL transports and road worthy armored vehicles. It also had several levels worth of barracks, labs, armories, and evacuation shelters should the worst come to pass. But at its precipice was the main hall, consisting of the training barracks, logistical command, and the main arena. The main training ground for all the heroes that worked out of the base. Except when it was time to infuse some new blood.

    The only issue with all this awesome was that all of it was built into an artificial mountain dominating an equally massive plaza in the center of the damn city. And the only official entrance was at the top. Up a horrendously long staircase. Escalators and service lifts flanked the stairs sure, but it was a requirement that most heroes had to climb it.

    ¡®Or, well, that¡¯s what the sign in front of it says.¡¯

    Also those escalators sure weren¡¯t going to handle all of Seth¡¯s weight and the service lifts were for official cargo only, so he had little choice. He had to get climbing. All nine hundred and fifty seven steps.

    Starting up, it was clear this was a task in and of itself. Climbing several hundred steps was arduous enough on its own, but the armor was not helping in the slightest. And by then had gotten really heavy on his back. A bone in his collar felt like it was trying to mutiny, along with the shoulder blade but in the opposite direction. Completely abandoning all the other bones beside it and with all the weight on them. The muscle was just too far gone to complain.

    Each step got tougher and tougher with the elevation, knees already whining feared for their anthropomorphized lives. The only thing keeping his whole body together was all the electricity he¡¯d kept stored up, even suckling from the hour/watts he¡¯d poured into the suit. But that was not long for this world.

    On the way up, Seth passed a few ancillary heroes making their own climbs and descents. Supporters that filled niches or just staffed the facility with people of ability. They thankfully ignored him huffing his way up, or they just couldn¡¯t care about another recruit trying to join. Though from the occasional ire and glare Seth could feel between lugs, some were more skeptical of him. And his suit.

    He kept going. Heroes had a lot more reason to hate powersuits so it was understandable. They were basically their only competition, if they even managed. But Seth couldn¡¯t will himself to defocus and distract away the strain. By the last third he was just about climbing on all fours¡­ threes, struggling for every foot up. His carrying arm was metaphysically in tatters, his knees were coughing up their caps, he was surprised his shoes were holding up so well. Nearing the end though something snapped and the pain fell away, replaced by just a magnanimous sense of doom and weight. Seth picked up speed before he could collapse in on himself or worse. Fall backward. His muscles were actually starting to fray, his bones were creaking, he felt dry for some reason like all the water in his body was used up. But fuck it, he¡¯d been through way worse hikes!

    When he finally reached the top he dragged himself upright and gave a haggard-

    ¡°YEAagghhAHAG!!¡±

    And almost falling over as the suit dragged him back. But a torturous stomp forced him back forward, narrowly snapping his shin in the process. Too close for comfort and but at least a helpful burst of adrenaline. A few calming wheezes, an almost chilled grip on the door handle, and he was passing through the glass fa?ade of the main entrance with all the energy he had left wisping off of him.

    The foyer of the hall was a godsend of AC and inspiring atmosphere. Spacious tiled floors flanked by statues and displays to various heroes and events. Even some villain trophies sprinkled in. A bronze bust of Dr. Macroscopic, the founding force for the super healthcare industry. A gaudy ¡®statue¡¯ from Ms. Maleficence¡¯s lair that was little more than an abstract mental cheese grater of colors and lines. An auspicious painting of the Kashmir Peace Accords, basically the founding of the League as an autonomous force. They even had rough painting of the villain known as Gold Breaker standing over what was left of the doomsday device called the Tombstone. All as he yelled out his condemnation of the villain organization that made it, the Terror Matrix. So all sorts of records and relics from the League¡¯s escapades scattered about here. And this wasn¡¯t even their main headquarters.

    But at the center, standing over the almost quaint quartz reception desk, was the main memorial piece. A massive marble statue going all the way up to the ceiling depicting several heroes, both powered and unpowered, standing upon a wall in defiant celebration. Standing atop ¡®The¡¯ Wall. Seth didn¡¯t stop to admire, he didn¡¯t even really notice it. The only thing he could care for was that desk. And hopping he was on time.

    Lugging his armor over to the crystalline desk was a final hurdle of terminal agony and dying out adrenaline. Yet the receptionist, an almost out of place woman with straight red hair, paid little mind to his plight. Her face was stuck down in a tablet, reading something good enough to keep her attention from her duties, good enough to not care for the goings on of superhuman day to day. Good enough for Seth to trudge in exponentially haggard sway all the way to her desk without notice.

    But just as he reached it, the daring dark edges of his vision took hold, and his legs gave out en mass in twisting spiral. His back hit the desk face, but the suit slammed down facing it, springing out of its compact form with a massive startling bang. Finally getting the attention it deserved as her ¡®Receptionist Felicia¡¯ placard bouncing off her counter. Lurching her out of her tablet and face to face with a towering metal behemoth staring down on her. Until her fright was broken by Seth¡¯s shaky hand reaching over the counter and slapping his application form down on it. Broken from her momentary terror, Felicia pulled herself up and looked down over her counter. Down at the passed out and propped up Seth against her desk, smiling from ear to ear. He¡¯d made it in time.

    He just¡­ needed to rest a little bit.

 Chapter 7: Introduction and Introspective Collectivism

    A grit in the air, overly clean yet suffocating. A pile of ash and char rubbing against skin. Against the side of his face. Irking away fatigue and ache trying to stay a consciousness cast inward. Freshly collapsed and dry eyed.

    Seth was awake, but he almost didn¡¯t want to be. Almost wanted to stay half buried in this pit, letting the darkness swallow him up and take him away for good. But he was refused quite vehemently by a burning light he knew wouldn¡¯t allow it. Because it meant the world was still turning despite his pain.

    The sun shining through the shattered windows proving too powerful to ignore. Like his mom had been training him to never sleep in again in his life. Though, it was less like he slept and more like he cried himself into unconsciousness. A threating precedent already pulling him back as he thought of her, of his dad, of everyone else. But, despite the dried up tears trying to return, things felt¡­ better. As better as his situation could allow them to be. As better as the ache of living could be fought by¡­ He didn¡¯t know why he felt better. Just that he knew.

    He started up, pushing up to kneel in the burnt scar he made of his kitchen. And rubbing that grit from the side of his face. It was quiet again, peacefully quiet, save for the- *THUNK* disintegrating hole in the ceiling. Seth rubbed his head with muted grumbling, hurriedly getting up to avoid further head trauma. But still, it was quiet enough that-

    ¡°You are finally awake. Good.¡±

    The voice returned but¡­ different. More polite, professional, but really dismissive.

    ¡°Your little outburst¡­ forced my hand¡­ so I will be taking over being our liaison. Not that ~Threat~ was not doing his best. But you cannot take the soft approach with this much power at the disposal of a mere whelp.¡±

    The voice seemed to talk through him, caring little for what he felt, but¡­

    ¡°I know all too well what you are feeling. All of us know it. But right now we need to keep you from losing control again. And keep you alive. I did not agree to this divulgence, but still he was right. We are part of you now, your fate is ours.¡±

    The voice paused, something deeper than Seth could feel forcing him down.

    ¡°...And I fear our fate may yet be yours as well. But that is not a concern at this moment, as I believe someone is still quite hungry.¡±

    Seth snapped to realization at the oppressive growling of his stomach, and the dry bloat of his tongue.

    ¡°Maybe if you had not turned your kitchen into a smoking crater you would have actually tasted those¡­ waffles?¡±

    Seth looked around at the charred and stirred results of yesterday. All the wood and plastics were scorched to black and white. The cabinets were blown in then out, squashed into their walls and violently disassembled. What appliances even looked like appliances were covered in molten slag. But at least the fridge still looked intact-

    *thump* ¡­*CLANG*

    The door fell away from the burned refrigerator revealing its fourth degreed contents. Bleeding a sigh out of him as he shifted away, shuffling toward the pantry that was thankfully sequestered away down a short hall beside the laundry room. The door was ajar, but most of the jars and boxes were at least still on the shelves. Rather annoyingly as the stuff in his reach was unappetizing or just¡­ healthy.

    ¡°You do not get to pick and choose what you survive on.¡±

    The voice interjecting at his thoughts and reprimanding his childishness only added to the disappointment. All the while they seemed to ignore that he was still ten¡­ eleven?

    ¡°What matters right now is what can be prepared! What can be saved and rationed so you can survive the longest. Though at the moment sustenance is necessary to make up for your lost meals. So maybe something dense is called for.¡±

    Seth eyed the cookie packets on the upper shelf, just out of reach.

    ¡°No!¡±

    He sank down further into his dour then looked lower. Most of the jars and cans were ingredients, so not very appetizing.

    ¡°Almost, but too singular.¡±

    His eyes focused, looking at every can individually before-

    ¡°There, that one should suffice.¡±

    ¡­It was a can of refried beans.

    ¡°I believe what records we have captured say that such a paste should be quite dense and filling, while still being nutritious enough to warrant it as a full meal.¡±

    Seth glowered at the idea of eating an entire can of refried beans for breakfast. But¡­ wasn¡¯t fully against it. He eyed up again to the high shelf, looking for chips.

    ¡°Hey, luxuries can wait, you need food that is¡­ HEY!!¡±

    He¡¯d stopped listening and realized there was a step ladder in the laundry room next door. Now with beans and chips to dip in them Seth¡­ realized he didn¡¯t know how to cook. Also the stove top had melted down. And the microwave was scattered across the Maltsburgers¡¯ side yard.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to teach you how to light a fire aren¡¯t I?¡±

    The voice sounded exactly as if it had its palm in its face. Seth looked around at the charred kitchen he¡¯d made, the devastation that his emotions had caused. Remembering it too clearly to not be forced down, but still defiantly shaking away those thoughts. And instead feeling a rise out of it, pull him up. Something almost approaching pride in being able to do this. To¡­ to have an actual superpower. He had a superpower! He could be a hero!

    But then, looking at the plasma scorched pit he had made, some hope and bright fighting the dour, he thought slightly of¡­

    ¡°Ugh! To use the power for something as trivial as cooking is¡­ Oh, sorry *hhsshish* I forgot you were with us. *HHsshhss* But¡­!¡±

    The voice seemed to growl slightly at its situation, a decent number of other voices outside Seth¡¯s focus denying this one¡¯s sensibilities. Like they were some kind of noble stuck in a refugee camp.

    ¡°Very well.¡±

    Seth felt a familiar prickle run down every part of his body. Not quite across his skin but throughout it, as if his nerves were just booted up for the first time. Quickly it focused to just his hands, pins and needles becoming a slight warmth radiating against the cold air drafting through to him.

    ¡°We are locking your control of the power until we can be sure further ¡®incidents¡¯ will not arise. But we can release some of it to facilitate¡­ trivial matters I suppose. Sooner or later we will see about teaching you proper discipline.¡±

    Seth looked down at himself, down at his hands. It was like a cross between a static tingle and when he felt flustered. Not automatic, but like his blood was rushing to them. Except it wasn¡¯t his blood. It was power. Electricity. He could feel electricity silently arc between his fingers. This was real, this was him. He had powers, he could feel it flex with his fingers. He really was a super, he could be just like all the heroes he¡¯d seen on TV. The dour was well and truly broken and smile was actually pulling at his face. But the voice cleared its throat with deliberate force, snapping Seth from this awestruck upward spiral.

    ¡°Take the container in your hands. Hold it tight, but focus your attention on where you make contact with the metal.¡±

    He readily did as he was asked, putting his chip bag down and taking the can in his hands. An unstoppable force of giddiness driving him onward. But stopping short as he realized that if he was about to heat a can with his bare hands.

    ¡°Oh, your people are not very heat tolerant are they? Having no scales will certainly not help your predicament. But do not worry, if your focus is correct you will not burn your skin. We can heal you if you accidently do at least. Think of it as a learning exercise. Besides, we will need to teach you to heal yourself at some point as well.¡±

    Seth furrowed his brow, but continued on. Gripping the can in both hands, trying to make sure he was actually touching metal around the label. His pinkies hooking the uncovered bottom, his thumps pressing down from the top. A little awkward, but it felt right. And as he focused, the warmth in his hands increase little by little.

    ¡°Now think of the contents of the container, as if you are looking through it. As if you were forcing your fingers through it until they touch. But without-¡± *POP*

    The can¡¯s lid exploded open, narrowly missing Seth¡¯s thumbs. But instead shot hot steam and bean paste out at an angle. Thankfully away from his face.

    ¡°Huh, he was right. You are taking to it easily. That or your people¡¯s metals are just as accepting as ours.¡±

    ¡®...Or it was just a pull tab.¡¯

    Seth was starting to get use to thinking rather than speaking to his new ¡®friends¡¯. A thought passing his mind rather pleasantly as he scooped a bit of paste up in a chip. Though coming about out of place just as quickly as it came.

    ¡®Why¡­ do I see you as friends, I barely even know who you are?¡¯

    ¡°We can discuss who, what, where, and why later, your survival takes precedent¡­¡±

    The voice paused for a solemn moment.

    ¡°But we do owe you this. And¡­ it will be the first debt paid.¡±

    Seth resigned the weird though, but still asked.

    ¡®Can I at least know your name? You called the other voice Threat but I don¡¯t-¡¯

    ¡°Wait. You understood that? Were able to parse some amount of our language in return? No? *hsh shehhsh* Collective meaning¡­? Wait, I believe I understand now. ~Threat~ as a name is known by everyone here so there are no contradicting perspectives. So its meaning is not obfuscated by all of us having our own interpretations of what it meant by it.¡±

    Seth rubbed his head with his first bean laden chip stuck in his mouth. This kind of neuroscience is way above what should be expected of an eleven year old.

    ¡°Sorry. If we all think the same way about something, its meaning might be clearly translated to you, since we are all in agreement about what that thing is. And¡­ huh. And we all know quite well who and what Threat is. Though that can be said just as easily of all of us.¡±

    Seth could feel a deep seated ire from the voice, but equally felt them keep it in check. Like they something had made them angry, but wanted to leave it in the past.

    ¡°At any rate, we will have to wait for everyone to get done learning your language before we can even begin with ours. If you are even able to understand it at all. But names should be an easy starting point. The nature of our collective being what it is¡±

    The voice felt somber for a moment.

    ¡°It may sound awful, but most of us cannot remember our true names. We have been together a drift so long that we have all but degraded to calling each other by our respective titles due to our¡­ unique state of being. We failed to give much thought on preserving them. Huh¡­ Another thing to add to the list once we are able to reconstitute ourselves.¡±

    An almost collective pang of sorrow and guilt swept over Seth from the voices. He didn¡¯t understand what it meant, but it sounded like they weren¡¯t like this originally. Though it made sense for why they were riding a lightning bolt into his head.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    ¡°Do not worry, these are things long in the future. And the existential questions that arise from such talk are not conducive to survival¡­ Though if you wish, you may call me by my title as ~Tlatoani~ ¡­What?¡±

    ¡®Oh! Ugh, there¡¯s a¡­ hero that I like. He¡¯s Aztec themed and his name means Speaker and¡­ I guess maybe now I¡¯m ob-fu-scating your meanings.¡¯

    ¡°¡­Parsing this mess of a brain is going to be agonizing, I can feel it. Let us at least alleviate this a little bit. You may call me Speaker. I am the elected leader of the group you are now harboring. But, as the name suggests, I am merely meant to represent them at large. A long list of transgressions and calamities though have transitioned my role somewhat, so I have become the de facto leader in a more direct regard.¡±

    Seth swallowed the chip he had been munching on and bowed slightly.

    ¡®It is a pleasure to meet you Speaker.¡¯

    ¡°I do not know whether to feel patronized or happy that you finally found some decorum. Never mind. Survival, focus, now.¡±

    Without much more thought, Seth set about following Speaker¡¯s instructions after gobbling up half the can of pasted beans steaming in front of him. His lips were salty and felt a bit heebee. So water was very much first on the list. Grabbing empty water bottles from a corner cabinet that had survived being scorched the night before, he filled them with water from the bathroom tap. After chugging the first bottle full when Seth realized his thrst was far more than he¡¯d felt. The salt stinging his dried up mouth certainly not helping. Though it was odd he didn¡¯t immediately catch the sensation.

    Next came storage. He grabbed his school backpack from his room, as well as proper clothes since he¡¯d been still wearing the same blood stained and scorched pajamas since yesterday. A graphic t-shirt with a younger looking General Advance charging through a brick wall and a pair of jeans. Oddly though, he realized he had his mother¡¯s scarf on. Somehow how having absentmindedly put it on last night and spared it from the heat and fury there in. The chill of the intruding morning completely invalidated against it, but still he felt like he would be too cold without it.

    He stayed just a little while longer holding it, trying to hold on to the memories he had of it. Of his mom. Of her spool it around him as she wrapped it. Smelling a little of motor oil for some reason. But that was all he could get. All he could manage. So with proper clothing and everything else he needed from his room, Seth went about grabbing every usable and storable piece of food left in the pantry. Preparing to¡­

    ¡®Why do we need to stay somewhere else? I like my bed.¡¯

    ¡°There is a smoking hole through the roof and the front door is off its hinges. Not to mention you shattered most of the windows and very nearly lit it on fire! It is no longer a sound or insulated structure. Do not worry though, we should not have to go far. Your village has plenty of houses we can use. And appears quiet bereft of¡­ hrmm.¡±

    The voice stopped itself, redirecting Seth out the tossed aside door as it gave off a wary concern. Focusing toward some of the other voices outside Seth¡¯s focus to do¡­ something. It didn¡¯t matter. They were right, he couldn¡¯t stay. So he set off into the emptied town, leaving his house behind like it would be the last time he¡¯d see it. Photos still on the walls as he walked through the doorframe a final time. A few faces in them¡­ not so blurry anymore.

    The town proper was in a horrid state, mostly due to how the sky looked with smoke discoloring most of the western horizon an ominous red hue. But the winds were chasing those away little by little, so the other half was at least blue. Though every house Seth passed contributed to the gloom. Shattered glass and scorch marks from that chaining tendril¡­ The same one that.

    Seth shook the fate of his parents away, there was nothing for it now. Nothing he could do. Though he was concerned that more of the broken glass and splintered wood led outside rather than in. That the few cars on the road looked¡­ broken out of. That the few exceptions were banged and dented as if pushed aside. Reaching the downtown area, things were a little better. Because most of the windows were blown in for a different, more knowable reason.

    Close to the center of town, at the intersection of Main and 15<sup>th</sup>, the source of all this destruction stood. Still smoking from its landfall. It was an almost perfect sphere, at least from what could be seen of it. Chunks of meteoric rock and melted on metal jutting from various areas. Fused on tagalongs from who knows how many asteroid belts. A surface a matte black, but with distinctive lines crossing it, almost like circuitry. And a heaping dose of ominous guilt coming up from the voices as Seth stared.

    ¡°Our ark. The deliverer of our salvation and the spreader of our sins. It was how we arrived here, and how we became what we are¡­ It is best that we not linger here, we can talk someplace¡­ safer.¡±

    ¡®But¡­¡¯

    ¡°I know¡­ but we need suitable long term shelter before nightfall.¡±

    ¡®But there¡¯s nobody here?¡¯

    ¡°¡­That is what worries us.¡±

    A small tinge of collective apprehension kept Seth company as was continued forward. Like them being aliens was the least important thing right now. It seemed cool, but he couldn¡¯t make it feel cool. Like he should be looking over his shoulder or keeping an eye out for something. Anything. But things stayed quiet. Empty. His pace only slowing down when he set about scrounging around a grocery store. Speaker wanting to make sure it was still viable so Seth didn¡¯t have to start dragging carts around full of food before they went bad.

    He was only truly stopped when he came to the outskirts of town, at a small mattress store he remembered getting his bed from. Mostly because it was fun to jump across the rows when his parents were talking to the owner. It still had all of its windows, even if they were covered in sales numbers and logos. It definitely had more than enough beds. And, like he even needed to be coaxed to do it, could be fortified a little¡­ But¡­

    ¡®But from what?¡¯

    ¡°With any luck, nothing at all. We are making countermeasures on our end to keep anything away. To feel for anything that may come our way. But for now just keep quiet when doing anything.¡±

    ¡®Okay, but-¡¯

    Seth was interrupted. Stopped cold by a low thunder rolling in from that red hued west. It was distant, but it was there. And it was unrelenting. He stared off down the road that led out of town, fear coloring the barren road with every roll as that thunder. That sound, like a battle far and away, buried what remained of his small pride.

    ¡°Do not worry, with everything still usable around here, we can stay for a long while. We can wait for rescue¡­ And never have to deal with whatever that is.¡±

    Seth kept looking, listening to the thunder. Listening¡­ as it died down. Down to nothing. Sending the world back into quiet, dreadful, silence. Leaving him with himself again. Shaking him as went inside. To prepare for a foreseeable future he didn¡¯t know if he wanted to see. Shaking him¡­

    ¡®hrmmm¡­¡¯

    Awake.

    ¡°Y-you okay?¡±

    It was a hand shaking his shoulder lightly. The world still a little dark around the edges as the fair voice came in. Trying to sound deeper than it was. Was probably the slight headache being rubbed at, or because another gulf of time was just washed away. Whatever the cause, the effect was Seth getting roused back to the foyer. No more than maybe a minute of unconsciousness, otherwise there would have been more of a response. Or they just know all too well and don¡¯t care. He was hauling quite the load around. Was sitting by its feet looking up and smiling at its sentinel like stature. A dose of pride to go along with the wakeup call.

    ¡°I¡¯m good¡­ I¡¯m good. Huuoo that was a lot of stairs.¡±

    The voice over him patted the shoulder it was holding, an odd mannerism for how dainty it felt. Trying to act tough? He rubbed his eyes to clear the darkness, but he knew the natural progression of this all too well. And it seemed like they weren¡¯t sticking around to let him know who actually cared that a guy passed out in their lobby. Because it sure didn¡¯t sound like Felicia was helping.

    ¡°Yup, you just got to get used to it. Can¡¯t just let anyone in, they gotta be tough. Hope you can handle it, because it ain¡¯t gonna getting easier!¡±

    They trailed off around the desk still at Seth¡¯s back. Heading off into the Hill¡¯s main hallway as he put a hand to it and pulled himself up. A full body shack loose of the lethargy and breath over full to burn it away, he¡¯d been rendered unconscious way too much in his life. But at least he could see again, and the world really hadn¡¯t gotten too far away from him. The half frightened look from the receptionist saying as such.

    ¡°You¡¯re ugh¡­ good to go ahead to. It¡¯s the door on the right with the sign.¡±

    ¡°Thanks¡­ And sorry. Seriously that¡¯s way too many steps.¡±

    He says, as he reached over and goes back to hoisting his near ton worth of armor and metal over one shoulder. Tiles below him creaking slightly under the undue load put upon them. But he still smiled as he walked off toward door. Toward whatever the League had in store for him. And for quite a few others.

    The door was to one of the side locker rooms for the arena, given up so the trainees hoping to get in could prep themselves. Getting dressed in what costumes and armor they had or just psyche themselves up for what was bound to be arduous. It looked like maybe a dozen other applicants had signed up ahead of him, though he didn¡¯t really want to try and start counting the second he walked in. But what he saw off hand, there were only a few heavy hitters in the bunch that he knew of. The kids of high class heroes always wound up in the spotlight, whether they want to or not.

    Seth headed off toward a less crowded section and dropped his suit off, no sense leaving it in the middle of everyone¡¯s way. But he still had to prep like everyone else. His rucksack was left in an empty locker, only pulling out his connector suit since that was about all he needed. And it seemed like skin tight or near to it was the norm as he headed off toward the showers to clean off the hike here. Nice cold water to ease the heat away. And thankfully private stalls to keep the eyes away. Toweling off and zipping up into his suit, he headed back. But could no longer avoid catching sight of his competition. And they him.

    There was a guy sat on the immediate bench still prepping, wearing a full leotard that very professionally hand stitched from the look of it. Like the seams were invisible almost. But alongside that it had oddly thick red threading sewn throughout it. His motif was obviously fiery with flames strewn across his suit, but that threading just kept standing out, especially as it wrapped around his arms exponentially until ending at his wrists with what looked like full cordage made out of it. As for him, his hair wasn¡¯t quite red but close to it, but his eyes were definitely red. And glaring at Seth as he passed. Almost causing him to run into another trainee as he looked away quickly.

    She was a fairly tall girl in a green and white motif, with emphasis on the green. Like a poison dart frog with a similar pattern. Her suit was old in design though, bulky and fit just enough not to hang loose. Like the one Aegis wore, so probably surplus from the inordinate amount made for the war. It had a laser symbol on the shoulder with an even more obnoxious green standing it out from the suit. And with stitching almost abhorrent compared to the other guy¡¯s. Her hair was blond but with¡­ green streaks.

    ¡®This girl loves green for some reason.¡¯

    And her eyes were¡­

    ¡®Oh thank god their brown.¡¯

    She wasn¡¯t paying Seth as much attention, seeming to be psyching herself up rather shakily as he rounded her pacing spot.

    Halfway to the suit Seth caught sight of one of those major names he knew, and the son of Makani Samurai, Kaze. His motif was nearly a copy of his father¡¯s, driftwood armor in a lightly plated samurai format. But his was only half, a single pauldron on the left side and only the shin guards on his legs. His clothes were similar, baggy robes Seth couldn¡¯t remember the proper name for that were half open revealing his right shoulder. His hair was cut short and black, and his eyes green like his father¡¯s. And he was also minding his own business, meditating or just waiting patiently on a bench just shy of the door leading out.

    The last obstacle between Seth and his suit though was a guy flinging a¡­ box cutter? No, more like a long razor blade with a handle. He flicked it up and caught it, absentmindedly staring ahead with a pissed off look on his face. But it had that unmistakable hint of internalized fear to it, like he was in over his head. His suit was ramshackle, baggy dark orange cargo pants with dark red holsters crowding all over it and a basic black t-shirt. Each of these holsters had another razor knife stuffed into it. He also seemed to have fingerless gloves on, a single large gash on each palm marring what already looked pretty worn out. His hair was brown and slightly long, but cut into a sensible fauxhawk with short sides. His eyes were a dark blue and, once they saw Seth, glared with disdain¡­

    ¡®And fear. You can¡¯t hide that buddy.¡¯

    Seth paid little mind, he expected this honestly. Can¡¯t go around town with a suit of armor like this and not after all. Thankfully mean looks were the only things he was on the receiving end of. It seemed like the fear of getting kicked out for starting a fight was keeping people in line. Or at least quiet. But that made sense when all they got were basic rules, none of them knew anything about what they were walking into. Just that you needed an acceptable uniform, a cool head, and that whatever was ahead was infamous for a concerningly high failure rate. At least given the amount of labor services there were outside to catch them. But no matter what that meant he¡¯d have to do, Seth was ready for it.

    He stepped up to his suit, tucked out of the way next to the laundry hampers. Stepping in at last and feeling it conform to him like the dream they¡¯d designed it to be. Snapping connectors marrying purpose, Panels clunking and locking closed, pressing gel layers easing the confines nicely, swiveling joints and servos matching every motion in gliding softness. He closed up tight, but kept the helmet open. Joins disconnected as it folded back behind his head in flat disassembly.

    ¡®Don¡¯t want to set some kind of edgy precedent.¡¯

    Despite the weight of material, the suit didn¡¯t bulk up his profile, looking more compact than most would expect. That is, probably expected by the other trainees. Those glare coming in doubled as they saw fully what they were set to fight alongside. But that was their misunderstanding to have. He continued to ignore them and instead stretched and made sure every joint and servo had full motion. No doubt adding more unnerve as all that metal refused to whir or clank despite how easy it moved. An actually nice enough silence.

    ¡°Careful, too much showing off and they might feel jealous. Or scared.¡±

    ¡°Keep them at a tail¡¯s length if you must, but these will be your colleagues soon. The right impression will be paramount. So what awaits you all should be met with them in mind. Better to earn trust early that way.¡±

    ¡®Well then we¡¯ll just have to hope its team oriented. Because I doubt any one here has-¡®

    The door to the arena broke away the silence. A dark figure stepping, practically clanging, into the room in front of everyone. He was wearing armor, full medieval plate from head to toe, but it was matte navy blue. And holy shit, Seth knew him. It was Mediknight, he even had the red crosses on his shoulders and helmet. He was the Elite¡¯s healer, though he only ever left The Hill in dire circumstances since he headed the medical ward onsite. But¡­

    ¡®Why is he here!?¡¯

    ¡°We¡¯re ready for you.¡±

    The locker room reeled at the sound. His voice echoing out of his armor rather monotonically, like he¡¯d done and seen this before and wasn¡¯t expecting much from these trainees. Or he just didn¡¯t care in the first place. He was always known for his poor bedside manner, but his healing abilities were second to none. He could radially heal a considerable area just by standing there, repair limbs with nothing but his hands. It wouldn¡¯t be surprising if he could bring the recently deceased back to life if he tried hard enough.

    He turned back out the door, letting the trainees come to their senses and funnel out into the arena. The light from outside washing out everything beyond. Seth waited until everyone else was out, knowing no one wanted to be in the way of all the inertia it took to move this suit. But also he wanted one last moment of peace. The regrowing quiet enough to let Speaker and Threat say their peace.

    ¡°Seth, you have striven for this moment, now it is time you showed why you deserve this power. Go now, and see if we deserve to have our sins forgiven!¡±

    ¡°Yeesh, way to lay everything on top of him. You¡¯ve got this brother, don¡¯t let anyone tell you otherwise. And don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll be right here if you need us.¡±

    Seth smiled, feeling the pride of his more assured friends radiate up to him.

    As he stepped out the door onto the beaten sands beyond.

 Chapter 8: First Days Can Be Hard On You

    The light of midday could only blind so much before allowing all the splendor it hid through. The arena was massive, bigger than you¡¯d think an already stuffed complex situated on an artificial mountain would be, but¡­

    ¡®Damn is it big.¡¯

    The stands were the obvious cut back, only five rows of simple stone seats, but the central area was expansive. At least a full football field if not more. Lines denoting various sections ran all over, so multiple different groups could train or operate without encroaching inadvertently. Even a track marked out around the outside. But all of that stopped around the center of the whole thing, as if something refused to be marked there. There were several doors around the periphery as well. Massive garages and storage rooms, or various other locker rooms both personal and public. Even a main entrance on the east side for ceremonies.

    There was a booth that loomed over that side too, reflective and probably plated glass windows obscuring its contents. But it was sure to be the main hub for the arena¡¯s plethora of systems. Like the roof that was opened up to the bare sky. The skyscrapers of downtown just barely peeking over the rim of the retractable shutters. And, if Seth had heard right, the floor. It looked like it was just sand. But it was heavy, compacted, and almost didn¡¯t even give a centimeter of depth despite Seth¡¯s crunching weight. He was sure it was ferrite, or something similar, just waiting for the signal to change. Because there was no way they would have someone redo all these lines every day. Because this place had seen action inordinate.

    The walls on all sides were marked and beaten. Cracks filled in but still so very visible. Craters left barren so all would know. Even the occasional full rebuild. All of it surface layers of sandstone, but reading like a tapestry of conflict. This was a real fighting arena, a gladiatorial pit. And Seth really regretted missing out of seeing the fights held here. But well¡­

    ¡®Where was the fun in seeing them hold back all the time.¡¯

    The section he and the rest of the trainees headed for was off to the side, close to the south wall. At its center was a tall man with his back to the approaching trainees, Mediknight having pulled off behind them to observing. The man wore what looked to be a modified military BDU, camo exchanged for simple light grey. It had no tactical vest, but instead looked to have plating under it similar to the standard surplus uniforms. But what drew Seth¡¯s attention was a shoulder patch with a sonic wave form on it. It was Parasonic, another of the Elite. Seth hadn¡¯t seen him much in the fights he¡¯d watched, but he had a reputation that couldn¡¯t be ignored.

    The trainees slowly walked toward what was clearly their new trainer. Some with similar hesitation to Seth as he cooled his smile and kept straight, others with more general hesitation at the imposing figure that seemed to ignore their approach. The air surrounding him oozing contempt, a little bit of pride, and, as far as Seth could tell, someone a little too into military cosplay. Which was right up his description. Before the trainees could near he though, he-

    ¡°LINE UP MAGGOTS!!!¡±

    ¡®Ok, he may be playing it up a little.¡¯

    The trainees winced back and looked at each other, a few spotted a half buried line in the sand, pointing it out and aligned themselves to it. Seth hurrying up all the way to the right end as everyone shuffled about and locked in place.

    ¡°I SAID LINE UP!!!¡±

    The trainees recoiled and looked at each other in confusion, Seth looked down at his feet in line with the others despite the obvious extra metal over them. It wasn¡¯t him. He looked down the line and saw that the razor knife user was too far forward, basically not even on the line anymore. He leaned over to get his attention, as did several others who spotted him. He looked back and forth, confused by them all pointing him down to look at his positioning, before reeling up even more confused.

    ¡°How could he-¡±

    ¡°I DON¡¯T NEED MY EYES TO SEE YOU¡¯RE OUT OF LINE!! NOW CORRECT IT!!!¡±

    He quickly shuffled back in line, thoroughly intimidated into submission. As was everyone else. The fact he was turned around didn¡¯t seem to matter in the slightest for how loud he was. But despite that the arena went back to calm.

    ¡°Now then!¡±

    As if all the bluster and boom was unneeded, he turned, revealing glaring greyed eyes under his short brown hair. That glare scanning down the line over each trainee, not showing a single hint of emotion, even when he got to Seth¡¯s metallic carapace. Satisfied, he began walking over to the left most trainee, obviously intent on inspecting each of them more closely.

    First up was a grey haired boy wearing another of those surplus super suits, soft grey and blue in color.

    ¡°Alright son, tell me your name and your power.¡±

    The boy tensed in response, the faux drill sergeant¡¯s gruff yell thoroughly replaced with a smoother more relaxed disposition.

    ¡°I¡­ My name is¡­ My name is Aquanaught sir! And-¡±

    Para audibly slapped his face with his hand, dragging it down slowly, almost wiping away the improvement in his demeanor before snapping back to it.

    ¡°No, I mean your real name, though your hero name sounds like you¡¯ve got it down.¡±

    The boy hesitated, but reaffirmed.

    ¡°My name is David and m-my power is I can control and create water.¡±

    ¡°There, not so bad. Now, since you control water and are still WOEFULLY unprepared for the hell you just stepped in, I¡¯m going to call you Waterboy from now on. Ok?¡±

    ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°Ok!¡±

    Well this was going to get ugly. But if childish nicknames were the worst he had then good. But this was really starting to be confusing. Seth expected Parasonic, the Elite¡¯s hardassed guard dog and defacto head of security, to be the bane of ambition not confidence.

    Done with his first trainee, Para continued down the line. Next up was the girl with what could only be described as a green fetish.

    ¡°Same thing miss, name and power.¡±

    ¡°M-my name is Marketa but you can call me Zeleny if¡­¡±

    Para stopped her with a hand up and disapproving look.

    ¡°Zeleny? ...I¡¯m just going to go out on a limb and say you shoot green lasers somehow. Am I wrong?¡±

    The girl looked down in mixed embarrassment, tapping her index fingers together.

    ¡°I shoot them from my hands.¡±

    Para sighed and muttered something dripping with disappointment.

    ¡°Welp, I¡¯m going to call you Green Thumb and be done with it.¡±

    Zeleny looked up in slight resentment, but deflated before she could say anything.

    He continued without a second thought. Next was another girl who wore a brick red tank-top and the bottoms from a surplus super suit colored the same with beige accents. Seth was surprised he didn¡¯t see her in the locker room, mostly because she was absolutely built. But despite her obvious strength she was actually shorter than Zeleny, her medium brunette hair stopping a good foot below her.

    ¡°Name and power.¡±

    He was already over formalities.

    ¡°Maya sir. I can control various building materials.¡±

    ¡°¡­Building materials? Little lady there is a brick shit house joke here, but for the life of me I can¡¯t get over this. Why are you here? You can get a job in an instant with a power like that. Why-¡±

    Maya almost snarled.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a damn builder! My entire family is nothing but builders! I want to be something more than just my family¡¯s next in line!¡±

    Para reeled back.

    ¡°Well¡­! Combo Breaker it is then.¡±

    Maya didn¡¯t look thrilled, but she seemed to expect this.

    ¡°Name and power!¡±

    He was picking up the pace, already at the guy with the homemade flame suit next.

    ¡°Name¡¯s Kabar, and I can generate extreme heat.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    Para seemed unsurprised.

    ¡°So what, are you going to bake your enemies into submission by hugging them with your toaster coil looking arms there?¡±

    Kabar smirked and chuffed slightly before letting those same coils loose to fall at his sides.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m going to burn and beat the shit out of them with these flaming whips of mine.¡±

    In that instant the gaudy red threads lit up, igniting into full flames across his suit and down to the loose lines at his sides. Maya and the trainee on the other side of him pulled away as the heat got too intense. Para seemed impressed, maybe.

    ¡°Well now. You have some ingenuity then¡­ I¡¯m still calling you Toaster though.¡±

    And just as quickly the flames were snuffed out with Kabar¡¯s ego.

    ¡°Name, Power, come on we are still not even halfway through.¡±

    The guy he was rushing looked still overwhelmed by Kabar¡¯s flames, but quickly steadied himself. Besides, Seth knew he¡¯d faced worse than that.

    ¡°My¡­ My name is Jacob and I can make and control ice.¡±

    His suit didn¡¯t give off any hint of this, but it made sense. It was a modified firefighting suit, in that it was recolored to have blueish grey fabric on the hazard stripes.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Jacob Whalen by chance?¡±

    He froze as Kabar turned up an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Para smiled, sinisterly.

    ¡°Your mom¡¯s one hell of a firefighter you know that. You¡¯ve got some shoes to fill Snowcone.¡±

    Kabar just turned back forward and chuckled to himself. As Jacob drooped in disappointment, looking like he had heard that nickname before. Seth had seen his mom work too. She can turn a whole apartment complex from a towering inferno to an ice castle. After everyone was out of it anyway.

    Para continued, though didn¡¯t stop as he passed Kaze.

    ¡°I already know what you can do.¡±

    ¡°And I expect no special treatment from you Para-sensei.¡±

    ¡°Oh believe me you¡¯ll get none, I assure you¡­ Your dad would kill me if I did.¡±

    He kept on going, not even bothering to ask the next trainee her name and power. Just stopped and stared down at her. Blond waves reeling back and revealing green nervous glances. Her surplus suit was baggy, almost a size too big, but was darkly camouflage, tiger striped, and cut off short at the extremities.

    ¡°Uh¡­ My name is Tabatha. But my friends call me Tabby.¡±

    Para glared down at Tabby without changing expressions.

    ¡°Ugh I-I¡¯m able to mimic various cat species both in ability and form.¡±

    Para turned his head for a second in contemplation before immediately shaking the thought away.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky Tabby, you already have a fitting nickname. But don¡¯t wear that luck out, understand?¡±

    ¡°Crystal, sir!¡±

    Para continued on again, still silent, but looking grumpier by the second. His next victim was the razor knife wielder, who was very much trying not to look intimidated.

    ¡°My name is *ghf* is¡­¡±

    He was deflating rapidly.

    ¡°Razor sir.¡±

    Para looked down at him in unsurprised disappointment.

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°And¡­ I can make these awesome knives from my hands.¡±

    Para remained unimpressed.

    ¡°So are you collecting them or do you just not want to part with what is basically your weaponized bodily secretions.¡±

    ¡°GAH! They¡¯re not¡­! Ugggh. Making them is a process so I prepare beforehand-¡±

    ¡°Whatever Butterknife.¡±

    Razor¡¯s pride was visibly shot down in the prime of its desperately delinquent life. And Para just kept walking like this was well and truly his job.

    Next up was a girl¡­no¡­ A woman wearing an absolutely glistening red dress, her long and light red hair flowing almost unnaturally in the¡­ not wind. Para immediately popped the illusion, literally with a flick to the woman¡¯s head revealing a mostly normal girl with at least similar features, though no fancy dress or flowing long hair. Her suit was skin tight though, a drab beige with barely noticeable padding in the needed areas. Her hair was very short, but still a light red.

    ¡°Heh¡­ My name''s Alex and I¡¯m a doppelganger.¡±

    Para glared down, but more softly than before.

    ¡°Trying to win favor with looks is going to cost you, and I don¡¯t think you can handle it if all you can do is play pretend.¡±

    Alex smiled a bit at this.

    ¡°Well it¡¯s a good thing I can copy powers if I try hard enough.¡±

    Para hardened up a bit.

    ¡°Oh is that so¡­ well then I expect you to make my ass look good as I run you into the ground, Ditto!¡±

    Alex¡¯s expression contorted at this, more out of disgust than resentment. Seth looked a little longer at her in his peripheral. He could slightly feel the Garkah muse about the issues her powers represented, but he was focused more on the fact that she sounded just like the person who checked on him in the foyer. She wasn¡¯t good at voices yet it seemed.

    Para continued on regardless, a guy with dark hair, blue eyes, and wearing a simple white gi with barely noticeable yellow accents was next. The guy never moved from attention.

    ¡°My name is Marco sir, I can punch with air.¡±

    Para looked unimpressed again. But Marco noticed this and took a different stance. It was wide and stable but wouldn¡¯t transfer much force into a punch. Para stepped out of the way slightly. Marco pulled his fist in, the air around it visibly distorting. A sudden light jab bahped forward, but the distortion shot away, sending a pocket of air rocketing out. Impacting the far wall, blasting a crack into it and kicking up sand from the floor. Para looked slightly more impressed, but only slightly.

    ¡°Good form, but don¡¯t let it slow you down in combat, hmm¡­ *snap* Polo.¡±

    Marco grimaces silently, but regained his respectful attention as Para kept going.

    Next was a girl with an odd fashion sense. Her surplus suit was cut in two, midriff bare for all to see. But the concerning part was the color, or rather the texture. It was black leather, complete with small spikes on the shoulder joints, and¡­ a lot of added belts. Like too many belts. Her dyed black hair was in twin pigtails as well, just all around adding to the concern presented by the smile she was wearing as Para reached her. He was also visibly concerned, which seemed to only feed into the girl¡¯s beaming smile.

    ¡°Hehe, my name is Cleo, and Iiii control bindings!¡±

    As she said this she struck a light upward pose and several of the belts across her suit came to life. At the same time black leather straps appeared out of thin glowing air around her. All of them wiggling and flailing around looking for purchase on anything they could wrap around. Everyone around her took an immediate step back in unison, even Para.

    ¡°Oh boy¡­ Well, Punk Princess, if you even think of doing what I can only horrifyingly think of you doing with those to me or your fellow trainees, I¡¯m going to take away all your personal clothing and force you to wear a puritan dress. Understood?¡±

    Cleo didn¡¯t change expression, instead she dispelled and calmed her bindings and took on an overtly innocent sway.

    ¡°?I¡¯ll hold you to that?¡±

    ¡°?I¡¯ll fucking kill you?¡±

    Para quickly moved on to the next trainee, second to last before Seth. A guy in another surplus super suit colored plainly, simple grey with darker grey accents. Wait¡­

    ¡®He didn¡¯t really change the suit when he got it did he?¡¯

    He¡¯s at least put a custom patch on it, but it was just an Omega symbol. His hair was somewhat spiked but short and dark. His eyes were almost gold though. And Para was regarding him with some amount of disdain, but still asked in the end.

    ¡°Name and power?¡±

    The guy looked up at him with a smug look.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ May as well stick to the format, my name is Ohmega and I¡¯m a little bit of everything.¡±

    Para was tired of him before he even opened his mouth.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to be obstinate I¡¯m going to-¡±

    ¡°I know, tell my dad. But really, did we need to get to know each other. It¡¯s stupid to think¡­¡±

    Ohmega¡¯s mouth kept moving but no one words came from him. He noticed it and sneered at Para, who had a hand slightly raised. An inaudible tone was drowning out his voice, emanating from that held out palm.

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t lying about being a bit of everything. He¡¯s fast and strong. The main thing is he gets his power from electricity he takes in. Something about absorbing resistance or whatever.¡±

    Para let up on the dampening, Ohm sneering harder but relented back into smug nonchalance.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like any of these losers can really challenge me! So whatever, why not just tell them my middle name and social security number! It won¡¯t help them!¡±

    The lineup collectively glared over at him, but Para held a hand up to calm them.

    ¡°We¡¯re doing this because they all need to understand what they''re getting into, a world that knows everything about them. Where advantage is earned, not had. Where you need to be prepared for every eventuality, even your fellow heroes turning against you.¡±

    Para moved off and finally regarded Seth, standing nearly eye to eye thanks to the suit.

    ¡°Which brings me to you.¡±

    Disdain all too palpable.

    ¡°Step out of the suit.¡±

    Seth hesitated, but knew it was necessary for the lesson.

    He opened up, taking a step back and stepping out of the suit so he remained in line, the suit standing slightly over him but still stood mostly eye to eye.

    ¡°My name¡¯s-¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what your name is. I don¡¯t care what power you made up as an excuse. I don¡¯t even care if you handmade this hunk of scrap. I¡¯ve seen too many of you silver spooned Tinmen to deal with your bullshit in my arena.¡±

    ¡°I-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only going to give you this one chance. Turn around, take your powersuit, and leave.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a-¡±

    ¡°I. Don¡¯t. Care.¡±

    The air pulled taut in an instant as the world closed around the both of them.

    ¡°You walked in here thinking you were ready to be a hero, because you thought you had everything you could ever need. You had money to burn and make all your limitations go away. You had connections to pull to even get in the door. Or you just wasted all your time and energy to get this far with nothing to show you deserve it Well trust me you aren¡¯t ready, you aren¡®t worth anywhere near enough, and your only chance at getting out with what little pride you have intact is to leave. Now!¡±

    Seth met Para¡¯s glare beat for hammering beat in his ear. He wasn¡¯t expecting this kind of hostility so quickly, to be called a pretender to his face off the fucking cuff. But this bullshit was only sinking his feet deeper into that sand. He wasn¡¯t going to be intimidated out of his chance to do something right.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere.¡±

    Gritted teeth bore every syllable. This unflinching moment lingering for longer than anyone could stand, as Seth bristling near to sneering. As every muscle and tightened in the face of someone who knew nothing and cared even less. And yet, Para relinquished first. Straightening back and moving on without batting an eye.

    ¡°Fine then.¡±

    He turned and headed back to his original spot away from the lineup, leaving Seth to deal with the wound up state he was in.

    ¡°Now! As Clarence so rudely spoiled, this was a lesson for the lot of you. Because none of you are expected to pass this course. Some may flunk out today.¡±

    Para turned to Seth to amplify his disdain, meeting a justified glare in return.

    ¡°Some may choke at the last possible minute. Whatever stands in your way, you need to understand that you hold no advantages here, not even over each other. Everyone is going to get to know who their next to, their strengths, their weaknesses, what makes them wet the bed.¡±

    Para turned to David at the front of the line just to rub in the joke.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to learn both how to fight each other and how to work with each other. That¡¯s the nature of this world, constant struggle with forces no one hero can surmount, and constant honing to ensure no one dies fruitlessly on the field of battle. To that end, your first assignment is a FREE FOR ALL!!¡±

    The lineup reeled and roiled at this, some fretting having to fight each other, others basically itching to beat the shit out of someone. Seth just felt his glare widen as his hopes were dashed aside. No hiding strength till it meant something. Para held up a hand one last time to quiet the caused discord.

    ¡°A few standard rules. No excessive offensive powers, can¡¯t have you lighting anyone ON FIRE or something. Enhanced attacks are okay, but nothing lethal. Mediknight can fix a brick coated punch to the gut, but not if it goes all the way through. Crowd control and movement are okay. Yes, I¡¯m allowing you to bind people.¡±

    Cleo clapped giddily at this.

    ¡°WITHIN REASON!! NO MUMMIFICATION!!¡±

    She dejectedly deflated from her elation.

    ¡°Lastly, something special.¡±

    Before anyone could look puzzled, Para¡¯s sinister side bore out, as he boisterously pointed a finger at Seth.

    ¡°The first one to knock Tinman over here out gets special training courtesy of the Elite!¡±

    Seth flinched, senses screaming into prominence. Reflexively turning to see the damn near the whole line glaring back with death in their eyes. A beat of adrenaline and a reach back for his suit was all he got before-

    ¡°NOW BEGIN!!!¡±

 Chapter 9: But What the Hell

    A flash perception slowed the world down, drove Seth¡¯s arm up to shield his head. To counter the oncoming punch already outpacing it. A static sheen and halo, like the shot of a cannon made out of a tesla coil. And the fucker firing it grinning menace upon Seth¡¯s barely managed block. He was thrown out of his slow down, arm buckling into his head and kicking him back to the real speed of the world, footing along with it kicked out from under him. Sent spinning away off kilter and near terminal, sand grinding its way into his fingers as he stopped that fall, balance barely righting as he slide to a stop. All to only immediately need to block again.

    As Kabar came rocketing forward with both feet first. A lassoing rope around Ohm¡¯s waist pulling him back, transferring momentum in seesaw competition. Sandy soles crinkling against guarding arms and all that countering reaction recoiling Seth back again. Except now he had actual footing. Those arms shooting back, repulsing that kick and sending Kabar sprawling backward instead. Finally earning a second of breathing space. A chance to see just what was coming for him.

    See the lineup collapsing, everyone jostling for position, spreading out to get clear angles of attack because of who cares about this being a free for all. They wanted a reward. Only Razor was the slowest on the uptick, renewed confidence getting the better of him or just no drive left. Only to have whatever it was be rebuked as Kaz turned about, meeting razor knife with sword. Words said but only a grimace and shrug seen. So Seth was faced with ''only'' ten other opponents.

    Ohmega and Kabar were getting back up, but the main issue was Cleo rushing in closer. He couldn¡¯t let her tie him down, he had to go on the offensive. He set his feet and bound forward, slipping past a freshly materialized strap Cleo probably thought he would be too distracted to dodge. She wasn¡¯t expecting a head on attack either, with emphasis on head on. Seth bull charged right into Cleo¡¯s bare gut, sending her sputtering back into Jacob and David who had bunched up behind her.

    Only slightly dizzy from the impact, Seth pulled in both arms as Alex and Marco were flanking him now. Alex bringing in what looked like a hastily mimicked air fist, while Marco brought the genuine article. Launching in near perfect unison to the surprise of all but Alex, like she was way too on the draw. But both were still a step below. Seth quickly kicking back, still guarding against what was liable to blow hard. But none of them expected two air fists to over compress and explode! All three were blown off their feet, the wind force ignoring most of Seth''s defense and blasting him onto his back hard. Head bashed whipped into the sand as a hand scraped away, pushing him back upright before he rolled. But he was still stumbling and feeling dizzy now. At least he had distance though.

    He could see Maya compressing sand into stone around her fist and charging past her prone ¡®allies¡¯, while Zeleny was¡­ flying over her!

    ¡®Why the hell can she fly?!¡¯

    She quickly surprised and grabbed Maya by the uncoated hand. Looping up and bringing her up to speed, a flying catapult. Seth wasn¡¯t the only one studying the fight earlier but the issue right now was he couldn¡¯t reorient himself in time, or at all really. He couldn¡¯t move his left leg! He saw Cleo, beaming a sadistic smile from the ground behind everyone, a hand extended and a strap coiled around his leg from way too far away. He was stuck.

    No choice but the risky one, he pulled back on his right leg, a futile hard block as Zeleny released Maya with an underhand swing. Seth closed his eyes, focused his power as safely as he could into his arm. He¡¯d have to eat the tax for it since his suit was too far, but right now it was necessary. Because Maya was rumbling in with a hardened fist for Seth¡¯s head. And he had a feint to blast out of. Counterweighting left arm flung back, his right barreling forward. All to meet that sandstone fist with more power than it expected. A chunky explosion of dust and sandy rocks, and Maya¡¯s knuckles taking only the excess. Enough to send her spiraling past him off her own destabilized momentum.

    There was no time to pull the probably toughened leather strap wrapped around his leg, so Seth dragged his extended right back out through the dust cloud ahead of him, trying to clear his line of sight. Only for a lynx paw to come flying out of the cloud and smack him across the face. Tabby was in the fray now, swinging a big snowshoe-like paw like he¡¯d insulted her to her face. And continuing along with a flying roundhouse like drag and air resistance were suggestions. The summary double batting turning that dizziness into full on daze, meaning there was no resistance left as both massive paws slammed into his chest. The force enough to dislodge him from the strap, and send him flying back even further.

    His back hit sand with a softer crunch, elbows taking the brunt out of instinct rather than reaction. The persisting dust cloud gave him a moment to shake off the daze and stand up, but not long enough to react. A rush of water splashed the cloud apart, and quickly froze as it drenched his legs. David and Jacob were working together, and Seth was stuck in place again. Before he could pull his arms up to crack it though, a shoot of sand came in from his right and swallowed his arm. Maya wasn¡¯t out just yet. And neither was Cleo as she rounded the settling cloud, and whipped his left with a sudden strap around it. No time, no momentum, no leverage or space. And so the real rush came barreling through the last of that cloud.

    ¡°HE¡¯S MINE!!¡±

    Everyone running at him, pushing and shoving. Alex hung off Zeleny. Kabar whipping back Marco and David as he rushed forward.

    ¡°NO HE¡¯S MINE!!!¡±

    Tabby was hanging off Jacob trying to swing him out of the way. Maya and Cleo both dichotomy of emotion yet storming forward.

    ¡°MINE!!!¡±

    ¡°MINE!!¡±

    ¡°MIINNE!!!¡±

    But Seth could only watch as Ohmega flashed ahead of them all, a full punch sparking with electricity reeled in.

    ¡°Mine!¡±

    Fist compacted gut as undo force echoed across the arena. Ice, sand, and leather were unable to hold him down. Rocketing into the wall already bearing enough scars. Soft stone shattered and crumbled in another bass kick, Seth rebounding off and falling to its base. Rubble coming down on him, a hard sandstone beat adding to the crash. Cracking over his hand, knocked it low and darkening this world in more ways than one. Pinning him down for the ill expected count, the fight clearly ended once and for all.

    As the dust settled and everyone stopped their bickering. Waited for the call they all knew the answer to. Para, having moved with the fight, observed the scene with earned arrogance. About to speak up and say it clear before Ohmega struck an even more arrogant pose.

    ¡°Ha! I got him! So who do I get to train und-OMFH!!¡±

    And before Maya body slammed straight into his overbearing arrogance. Para¡¯s smirk more than audible.

    ¡°The school of hard knocks if you think this fights even over!¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Leaving the rest to determine a real winner amongst themselves, he broke off toward the pile of rubble that was now Seth, stopping short and squatting close. Too close.

    ¡°You see kid, I said this place wasn¡¯t for you. You weren¡¯t ready, more than likely you¡¯ll never be ready. Just give up, it will hurt less. You never deserved to be a hero anyway.¡±

    The darkness echoed that word over and over, burning it in with undo cause. Under that rubble he could hear everything. He could feel everything.

    ¡°He¡¯s all yours Medi!¡±

    He was still there, standing unperturbed on the sidelines. Finally clanging in slowly, disappointment laden in his step. He''d had to clean up Para¡¯s messes before. Was that all he was now? Just...?

    Under the rubble there was only that darkness, that pressing weight forcing him down deeper into the sand. The rumble of heavy hits rippling through, the heat of stymied attacks turning about, the clang of metal on metal disregarding what transpired in their absence. But for some reason¡­

    Seth couldn¡¯t feel anything of himself.

    His bones were splinters stabbing at him from all angles, his muscles emptied of energy just to keep up with the bruising, his head was swimming around and around without a course or speed. But despite all this pain, the hammering of his body with every beat of his heart¡­

    He couldn¡¯t feel it.

    Couldn¡¯t know it.

    Couldn¡¯t understand it.

    Because that damn word kept echoing through him!!

    An unmetered pull textured the darkness with its syllables, drew him deeper than even the sand, toward the source of those accursed echoes. A hateful sound too low to hear. A bleeding reverb pouring out over him like so much taken in electricity. His bones healed, his head righted, the bruises ceased, but the pain stayed! Blotted out everything like there was nothing there in the first place! Nothing¡­ nothing but the-

    ¡®Who the FUCK does he think he is??!! He can¡¯t even imagine what I¡¯ve had to go through!! What I¡¯ve suffered to get HERE!!! What I¡¯ve had to FUCKING LIVE WITH!!! What I''ve had to LOSE!!! All!!! ALL BECAUSE OF-¡¯

    Seth stopped himself. Stop spiraling into something he¡¯d only ever felt once before. When he burst that dam and cried for his old life. When he first used his powers to their burning extent. The edge of an abyss was loom before him, pulling at his psyche even in vague abstraction like this. Eating away at it, feeding off of it, off of all that his pain had carried away. He could feel what it gave in trade. The hateful emotions that nearly consumed him seething out, wisping to nothing as he pulled away from it, before it could pull him in. The Garkah had warned him about this, about the power they had to lock away. Why that dam was there in the first place. This was the holdover from when he lost control. And further still from when Threat lost everything.

    A roiling mass of anger and hatred stuffed into a box and thrown into the dark. Passed along with them when they were shunted into his head. Seth stared into it, scrutinizing it. But could only feel its effects and not its form. Could only hear it beat that word out, trying to mask a low hiss below it. A whisper. It was seeping out at the edges of the container it had been shoved into. Amounts too insignificant to keep back wisped off like steam. It was indecipherable, but he could feel it. And somehow he knew just what it really was. He planted his figurative feet at that cavernous hole in his head, focused on it like any other source of electricity before it. A focus that not only extended, but pulled. Dragged this abyss up, closer than it wanted, pulling that whisper for what it really was.

    Power.

    ¡®I¡¯ll show him what I can do! Whether he likes IT OR NOT!!!¡¯

    The rubble shook and Mediknight stopped in his tracks, tension sudden in his undue deceleration. He¡¯d dealt with enough supers to know when someone just pushed their limits, the healing field around him rippling in response before it could even touch the poor kid before him. The rubble lifted and fell away with meaty thunks, alerting Para to what Mediknight already knew first hand. In front of both of them, Seth¡¯s suit stirred. The eyes lighting up with a blue internal glow, signaling something long expected was occurring at last. But before Para could fully turn back to see the true cause, he was buffeted by the kick of sand and air. His turn stopped to shield his eyes. So he could double back his turn toward the fight, yet only watch as that poor kid tore across the sand. A fist raised with all the vengeance it felt like taking hold of.

    Still wrestling with Maya on the ground, barely able to force her away with a double kick at the last minute, Ohm was ready to break free from the sand she¡¯d wrapped around him. But instead he was summarily slammed down upon! Sand and lung aerosolizing, rippling with all the power Seth taken from that abyss. Using all that momentum to pole-vault off Ohm¡¯s narrowly caved in chest. And lock away the rest of his kick off to find the next in need of a beat down.

    At the hint of step, he rocketed off, parting the dust cloud he created. Finding a stunned David caught mid sneak attack with no hope of getting away. Seth pivoting to slid, using his trailing leg to break and swing that inertia all the way around. Slamming into David¡¯s back, flinging him into the cloud, straight into Maya on the other side still recoiling from Ohm¡¯s dislodging.

    His foot dug itself through the rest of the inertia as Seth scanned the battlefield, his perception finding a hold out of sheer glutting overdrive. Jacob and Kabar were duking it out at the far end of the sector, though Jacob seemed like it wasn¡¯t mutually wanted. Zeleny and Alex were flying and jousting, Alex color shifted to red for everybody¡¯s sake. Marco and Tabby were trading blows close by, Tabby still in lynx form. And Razor and Kaz were still meeting blades in the center of all this, undisturbed by the rest of the fighters. So he locked on to Marco and Tabby, planted his foot hard, and launched forward with both fists crossed.

    Razor and Kaz clashed to a standstill, the match up poor but held simply because they were the only ones with sharp weapons. Razor knives losing edges and whole blades to cold folded steel. But the battle was really just window dressing, as both watched Seth burst between the Tabby and Marco out of nowhere and backhanded the both of them away from each other. Razor trying desperately to look like he never even thought about attacking him, slowly swinging back and forth against Kaz¡¯s sword while looking for a reaction from the guy he¡¯d been mean mugging since they got here.

    ¡°Eyes on your opponent!¡±

    Kaz for his part played along, observing the fight more candidly. Snapping Razor back to him so he¡¯d take their fight more seriously. Even as he mouthed ¡°Thank you!!¡± when Seth rounded them to get to the rest of the fighters.

    Another head down bull rush slammed into Kabar from behind. Coming in low and scooped his legs up from under him, and menacingly grabbing hold like he was a human club. Seth bringing him down on Jacob and smacking their heads together, leaving them in a heap so he could move on. Kicking off to the side just as a new round of straps attempted to grab him. He swiveled and scanned around, catching Cleo back over by Para, just as Zeleny and Alex came crashing down in a ball between them.

    His foot set again and shot toward them, barely allowing Cleo to react. Alex tried to lift herself off the ground to get distance, but found Seth lunging alongside, spiraling horizontal and grabbing her by the throat. Dodge a field of straps Cleo materialized beneath the lot of them, locking Zeleny down before she could get away as well. The sound of slapping leather was crescendoed by Alex getting chock slammed into the field, flinging Seth away from it with the centrifugal motion. But not far enough to keep him away.

    Seth bounded back over, aligned with Zeleny in bunching launch. Connector boots planting themselves on her overly green chest. Using her as a backstop to blast closer to Cleo. Seth rocketed forward, sending Zeleny sprawling back in the expanding field. And sending Cleo recoiling in desperate interdiction. Spreading out another field of grabbing straps through the entire ground between them.

    Seth landed running, charging straight into it, no more fear of getting tied down left. Because it couldn''t hope to stop him. They snapped at his legs but snapped in turn, any that were able to grab him were broken like they were never there at all. His left arm locking hard as he screamed into toward his goal, slamming her in the gut and flinging her out of the way. Because he wasn¡¯t about to stop. He couldn¡¯t stop. There was only one way this could end, only one place this power he took allowed him to see.

    Sand burst in every storming step, till he was right at Para¡¯s side. Momentum overwhelming as he launched himself toward his face. Massive right hook charged and unwilling to hold back. His fist slammed Para across his still stunned face, harder than Seth hit the other trainees, harder than he¡¯s ever hit anything. The shockwave alone shook the arena and kicked up a final blast of sand to buffet his defeated opponents. Para sent flying, spiraling through the air. Crashing through the wall of the arena, smashing into one of the ancillary storage rooms with all the prejudice put in.

    This free for all was over, but the war was just declared.

 Chapter 10: Lets Make It A Little Worse

    Dust and sand swirled in aerials. Seethed between his teeth with every hoarding breath. Everyone who attacked him was on the ground, either unconscious or in pain. The only real sound their pained groans. And maybe Razor¡¯s heart trying to beat out of his chest.

    Seth knew better than to hold to this, to stay this way where everything was at his mercy. Heavier breaths fighting that seethe, smothering the fire burning behind his eyes. He flexed his practically steaming right, the pain from nearly shattering it on Para''s face helping center him. A real pain, not a forced incitement from bleeding raw emotions. The pop of his knuckle back into place telling him plain he was in control.

    He straightened up, letting the abyss go from his figurative grip, let it drop back in on itself in that dark pit. He could feel the Garkah¡¯s worry as the power receded, like that whisper was all he could hear before now. But in turn he felt their relief. That he was able to let go when all was said and done. Soon only the softened clank of Mediknight helping those with real injuries was left to hear. Broken wrists, cracked ribs, rampant whiplash. Everything was beginning to settle, and the atmosphere easing to a better tempo.

    Then the hole in the arena crumbled, and that atmosphere rang taut. Para stepping back out, sweeping dust from his uniform like nothing had happened. Seth and those still standing reeled. A lot of power went into that punch, but he barely had a scuff on his jaw. Just a sure fire look of pure death across his face.

    ¡°I can understand wanting revenge on those who chose reward at your expense.¡±

    Para was back right on top of him, staring down with near equal hate.

    ¡°But you¡¯d better realize that starting fights you can¡¯t hope to win is going to get you nowhere.¡±

    Seth could only stare up, meeting death glare with death glare, all his progress washed away in the grinding of the grit in his teeth. He moved first, squaring himself for what was bound to be round two, but Para didn¡¯t make a move. Instead he turned his nose up in smug fashion.

    ¡°Heh, if that sucker punch was the best you got then you¡¯re not even worth the effort. But if your little toy there is what I know it to be, you¡¯d might just give me a good fight. So go get it! And quit wasting my time!¡±

    A confusion melting into sneering indignation, practically snarling at the insinuation. But quickly Seth turned away and rushing to his suit. If he wanted everything, then it was his funeral. It opened like it was expecting him, the release of power he perpetuated started up hardcoded systems. It was made to contain him. Connectors snapped into place, panels slammed closed, shutting out the world with resounding clangs until the helmet closed in around him. Till he was staring through the view screen with all he had, soulless glowing eyes given undeniable emotion through it.

    Para moved to opposite him, right into the circle at their sector¡¯s center, Mediknight having cleared it as soon as he¡¯d stepped out of the wall. The two bore holes into each other until he stepped back up to the edge of the ring, looking to each fighter for confirmation before raising a hand as impromptu referee. So at least they would have an end to this. Tension turned the air thick, sore trainees watched anxiously from the wall. Smug looks burrowing into Seth¡¯s armor amid fearful preparation for the worst.

    Para leveled a hand. Seth ground a foot deep. Mediknight took a step back¡­ and dropped his hand.

    Seth tried to move first, tried to barrel right into him, but found himself unable to even breathe. A numbness, a deadening suffocation, and then a grinding resonance stopping him before he could even make tracks. His ears were drowning, his suit was quaking, his bones were rattling in place. Every fiber of his being was shaking apart. And then the pain started.

    ¡°AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!¡±

    He cried out, but even his thoughts felt like they were muted. He could still see, but it was turning to red on all sides. Distortions in the air, sound waves so intense they were visible, emanated from Para¡¯s outstretched hand. The trainees watching him fall to his knees in seconds with little surprise and barely a sympathy. He had to do something, he was losing consciousness, but there wasn¡¯t anything he could do. But there was plenty the Garkah could.

    ¡®THERE!¡¯

    He couldn¡¯t hope to hear them, but he could feel their response in nearly maniacal application. The metals in the suit heated, power stores pouring and flexing, shifting composition in a flash of forced through control. Matterist showing his deference and changing resonance frequencies. The sound waves deadened, enough for him to move. Enough for Seth to retaliate in force!

    Seth dropped down out of the concentrated sound waves and found his opening. His armored hands hit ground, his legs came up, and a fishtail of sand burst up in his still sonically assaulted place.

    He launched forward with little restraint, the weight of the suit meant to keep his movements dampened to reasonable levels. But he was already exceeding that drag. Closing the distance in less than a second, he skimmed the ground below the continuous blast. But Para would have none of it. He cut his attack and pivoted with equal speed, foot like a sack of bricks catching up with even this speed and slamming Seth across the helmet.

    The weight of his suit denied as he was sent tumbling to the side. He could still claw to a stop but had to push away quickly as another blast smashed the sand that caught him. He rose, sprinted upright as that column of sound followed behind, just barely out of reach as it tore through the arena wall. But he was quickly running out of space, any farther and he¡¯d be subjecting the trainees to the same sonic torment.

    So he skidded to a stop, ducked down below that reverberating column, and doubled back to force a sudden change in direction. The wrong direction. Instead of storming opposite, he stomped his foot down and leapt, cut back over the beam, vaulted backwards as it changed direction to follow his expected movement.

    Sand crunched under loaded metal sole, and blasted away as he rocketed toward Para. Again he was quick to react, cutting the blasts in time to meet Seth¡¯s charge, this time planting his feet and punching down on him. But he was growing predictable.

    That sole kicking forward and spraying grit just short, letting Para swing and whiff his already along punch. And letting Seth¡¯s weighed down arms swing free around it. Clamp down around his outstretched arm so there was only one way to go. And it wasn¡¯t Para¡¯s decision.

    Seth¡¯s foot drew back, pulling his arms hard and swinging Para off his feet. But he wasn¡¯t so helpless, hand grabbing an arm as his weight was invalidated this time. Shortening the air gap between the two and sending those sonic waves straight through the suit uninhibited.

    ¡°RRAAHHH!!!¡±

    Seth lurched back but held on as, pain tensing but only adding more momentum. The gel layer almost denaturing under the barrage, but it would survive. He had to use everything he could muster so he could slam Para down. Kicking up another cloud of sand as he hit the ground sideways and wrenching free of his grip. He kicked himself back from the aerosolized grit with his numbed away arm held tight. He had to rethink his strategy on this. Sonic blasts at range and resonating palms at point blank meant he had to keep moving. Hit and run.

    ¡®Just have to land an actual hiiigggGGHHAAAAAAHHHH!!!¡±

    The cloud parted, blasted away by greater distortion. Para was using both hands at once, doubling the blasts in size and volume. Seth tried to grip his head through the suit, but it was like it was going to rip apart. Cracks in the eyes started forming, he could feel blood running from his ears. And eyes. Yet the attack was unrelenting, he was kicking the volume up with every step. To the horror of everyone watching.

    Seth collapsed forward, still desperate to cover his ears, practically burying his head into the sand. His bones were fracturing, his blood was nearly boiling, his mind was rattling too much to even think of pain. Everything was going black, emptying to nothing again except against its own will.

    Then Para took another step forward¡­

    And that abyss shook.

    Those hands, armor ineffectual, let go of the helmet and were allowed to fall. Before clawing the sand instead. Legs splayed in agony pulled in, slowly lifted the whole up. Joints creaked as their servos rattled at their housings. Plates clanking and scraping as they were beaten about. Para keeping blasts on high, turning the volume up louder and louder. But Seth became unfazed by the assault. As he rose back up to full. Slowly ignoring the pain crashing over, lifting his head to stare it away, and blare what had been wrought. Those cracked apart eyes burning blue electrical damnation. No longer caring about anything but him.

    Almost with no motion, a burst of sand short up where Seth bore down. The whole armor tearing out of Para¡¯s doubled barrage like it was never there in the first place. Appearing to his side and taking a menacing, echoing step. Resounded its fury through the arena despite the deadening sand. Para drawing toward it swiveling him hard with sonic fire rippling around his hands. But his ensuing blast only holed another shoot of kicked sand. Armor already off to his other side, and taking another step toward him. Another deep metal clang resounding through everything.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Para reacquired, caught a glimpse of him again, the armor almost feral in its glare and in the whip of its stance. He drew his hands apart, intent to split fire to meet Seth as he tore away again. But Para was now truly a step behind.

    Plumes of sand were the only thing he saw as they drew closer and closer to his horrified dismay. Only seeing him in flashes, arm raising from its feral sway higher and higher with every echoing step. He couldn¡¯t land a hit to put an end to this farce, and his ire told more than he could hold back.

    He was afraid.

    So as that metal carapace finally flashed in out front of him, as that echo became immediate in its message, Para was finally able to react first. He¡¯d forced his arms around himself, passing a resenance over his entire body like it was liable to tear itself apart. But instead a blast of all over distortion rebounded and kicked the arena in full bore shockwave. An explosion of sound that shook the open shutters above, and rippled the air into deadly waveform.

    And yet pushed nothing but more sand.

    Because that metal menace was nowhere near, the show a feint to wear him out. That arm rearing back at the line of the ring now, the legs spring loaded and ready to blast off, and those eyes burning with unmistakable intent.

    Para¡¯s whiffed last ditch blast leaving him winded and dazed, only just realizing his target was making him the fool. He quickly pulled everything he had into another blast, hands forcing themselves back to battery. But a less controlled sonic boom reverberated the arena before his could.

    The world found itself in a perceptive hold, slowed to a crawl by overcharged senses. Para building a reverb into sheering peaks, distortion curling the air around him like a scythe ready to rend. Seth¡¯s body kicking off with all the force it knew how to muster, titanic weight turned to an unstoppable missile.

    The two set to clash with power enough to end this fight, to shatter air and metal in equal measure, to shatter the arena itself in turn. But something appeared in between them before either could actualize that destruction.

    The eyes noticed it first, a transparent orange shimmer flashing across like a warning. Settling in as perception caught, as overcharged senses were overridden by burned in memory. Dark edges he didn¡¯t even know were there seeping away from his vision. Seth came flooding back and his attack broke, desperate feet trying to pull up and skid to a halt. Mountainous brake force digging ruts into the floor.

    He couldn¡¯t touch it, he couldn¡¯t show this, he couldn''t make the truth know so carelessly like this. Para noticed it last and dissipated his attack, turning to meet a scolding backhand to the forehead. But Seth wasn¡¯t going to stop in time, metal feet cutting gorges in the sand too shallow for meaningful friction.

    ¡®Not like this!! I can¡¯t ruin everything like-¡®

    *CLLLAAAANNNNGGGGggggggggg*

    But that reluctant missile found himself clotheslined, by rounded metal ringing his number. Rebounding backward from an almighty whiplash against immovable defence more than ready.Crashing him into a heavy metal heap back onto the ground. All the power that had seeped in, and blotted out his self, reeled away. Even the abyss had been whiplashed into total submission.

    Dazed, sore, still healing from that resonant torture, Seth could barely pull himself back up. But could hear Para growling the frustration of-

    ¡°What the hell Aegis!?!¡±

    He snapped out, snapped up at this, but was struck by the scene looming over. How much it reminded him of that long ago day, when she had pulled him out of hell.

    Brown and blond hair blended into a tied up ponytail, daze brightened light and shattered optic glass haloing her on his view screen. Like the angel he¡¯d seen her as had returned in force. Maybe with a bit... too much force.

    ¡®Ow¡­¡¯

    Even through the wince he couldn''t help but see her. Still wearing her hair back, but there was obviously a lot more of it. And her eyes were still hinted with an orange radiance as she looked down on him. Her suit really was basically the same, just recolored and refitted to her full stature. In fact it looked like it was exactly the same, wearing and fraying at the seams like it had lasted all this time. And most assuredly she had bulked up since they were kids. Not to ludicrous levels, but her strength was obvious to the casual observer.

    And Seth may have starred a little too long. More stunned by the sudden appearance of the girl who saved his life than her new physical appearance finally seen up close. But Aegis still gave a concerned smile down at him.

    ¡°Sorry, guess I should have stopped you sooner?¡±

    Her voice wasn¡¯t as gentle, but still held a little childishness. She furled her shield up in sparking dismissal and stretched out her hand for Seth to take.

    ¡°Though seeing as the both of you were- hhrrrggg! Damn you¡¯re heavy. About to turn all the trainees to fucking jelly! I had to intervene at some point, you know.¡±

    Para''s scoffed cut the moment Seth was having and drew both of them to Mediknight, having ushered the trainees almost completely back from the ring for their own safety. Both losing some edge and reel as those slates glared back like a menacing den mother. Turning Para back with a bitter scowl.

    ¡°I thought you were delayed by a ¡®pretty serious save¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I lied, I was watching from the booth. I knew full well you¡¯d ignore orders and pull the same shit. Again! So I called it in.¡±

    ¡°You WHAT!?!¡±

    ¡°Say hello to your new co-teacher Para, better get used to not being a douche to these trainees 24/7!¡±

    The reassembling trainees, and the gradually slouching and beaten Seth, all stood even more shocked than they already were. Getting trained by one member of the Elite was a privilege, but three. Yet still Ohm raised his hand.

    ¡°This better not count as my promised special train- GOooh!¡±

    Maya punched him in the ribs for it as Para''s sneer cut him off.

    ¡°Shut up Clarence! Aegis you can¡¯t be serious, you¡¯re going to spread the team thin like this.¡±

    Aegis crossed her arms.

    ¡°Oh NOW you care about the team¡¯s wellbeing. Where was this worry every time I¡¯ve asked for some help, huh? Half the team does all the fucking work around here because you keep stopping anyone with talent from getting through. But, thankfully, command actually cares and is rotating the A and B squads in for fire patrol. So I can do what I see fit. And since you basically picked a fight with one of your trainees! ON DAY ONE!! I¡¯m going to be staying here, keeping you from fucking things up more than you already have. Okay?¡±

    She turned away, instead directing her attention at Seth again, who was now thoroughly frozen in awkwardness.

    ¡°You know, you¡¯re pretty good for a noobie, but in all honesty you really need some work on your self-preservation. Let¡¯s keep to fighting someone who, at the very least, is in your power class.¡±

    Seth was still stunned and pulled in several directions, but shook as much as he could away so he could take his helmet off to answer her proper. He twisted the rotary neck joint and popped it off with a short hiss of heated air, revealing his shocked white hair. Helmet head inside an active faraday cage was a mess to be reckoned with on its own. He noticed and franticly ran his hand over it as he lowered his helmet to his side.

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ try to pick my opponents better.¡±

    He smiled slightly, drying blood trails from his nose and eyes making things seem a little more dire then they really were. Aegis smiled slightly in response, but couldn¡¯t hide the serious concern on her face. But what Seth couldn¡¯t see was recollection. He wiped away the blood he could feel, but stopped smiling when she turned to Mediknight, silently thumbing for him to check on him.

    She didn¡¯t¡­ remember him.

    It had been a while sure, and he wasn¡¯t exactly as talkative back then. She must have just forgot, or blocked out that part of her life.

    ''It was a long time ago, and only really a day. And¡­ and people don¡¯t really like to talk about their service on The Wall. Let alone being on the other side of it. But...''

    Seth was zoned out in thoughtful disappointment, only adding to the concern eking out of Mediknight¡¯s slats as he looked him over. He snapped out of it as that visor dominated his vision. He couldn¡¯t see any sign of real emotion, nothing but shadow between the slats, but he could still feel that he was scanning him. A slight warmth radiating and tingling at his nerves just adding evidence, his healing field was versatile. And worrying. A small tension at the possibility that he could sense what he had, his real power beneath all this armor. But he turned away before Seth could fail the bluff, giving a thumbs up to Aegis as she gathered up the trainees.

    ¡°He¡¯s okay.¡±

    Seth let his breath out and moved to group up with everyone else. Only to be stopped by a plate mail hand across his own armored chest.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do something like that again. I can understand hiding your power away, but you need to learn proper self-control before ever engaging like that again. Take it slow, and calm down.¡±

    Mediknight dropped his hand and moved off. Seth was stuck in place by a fearful beat. That already his hopes were dashed. And yet they remained. A respect fighting, saying that this wasn¡¯t condemnation just correction. There was no hiding anything from a good enough doctor. So having his blessing to keep going was turbo charging to his determination. And told him he had two of the three trainers on his side at least. Speaking of which, the smile squeaking up his face was leered away at Para. Matched and met with disdain as he rejoined the now coalesced and healed up trainees awaiting everyone¡¯s proper introduction. Aegis keeping command as she squared up between her teammates.

    ¡°Okay, now that that is all settled. Welcome to the League of Super¡¯s official recruitment course! At least for now. Apparently ¡®some people¡¯ are saying we¡¯re overstaffed, but I can assure you we still have plenty of openings for the lot of you. If you can manage to reach them that is. To that end, this course will work to get each and every one of you up to snuff and ready to protect this world from anything and everything that may threaten it. From a common convenience store thief, to rampaging genetic monstrosities, to the occasional city busting meteor, or the mundane seasonal disaster. You¡¯re going to learn how to be ready and able to fight each and every one of these things, and worse. And, thanks to my inclusion, you¡¯re more likely to actually pass this course compared to the previous ones. Seeing as Parasonic over here has been making this course into a meat grinder instead of a training camp.¡±

    His sneer only lasted a second as he retook charge.

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me if they can¡¯t keep up, and I still fully expect each and every one of you to fail. Anything otherwise would endanger the League as a whole. The dangers we face as heroes are many, varied, constant, and unforgiving. Even the heroes we have today can¡¯t truly be said to be ready for what may come tomorrow. So I expect you all to fail because that¡¯s a preferable outcome to sending off another group of half-assed recruits to die.¡±

    The collective looks of indignation melted at this. But looks of defiant determination broke the gloom, Seth¡¯s included. Para scoffed in response while Aegis smiled. Mediknight stepped up to break the tension.

    ¡°You will each be given a room on the upper periphery, the rules and regulations for living here are printed on placards in each of them. Read and memorize them. Meals are served in the canteen on the south side based on the time of day. Its first come first serve, so don¡¯t be late. Training starts when your trainers say so. Expect the unexpected. If they say you¡¯re training at 3:00 AM, you are training at 3:00 AM. Personal training times are allotted for any free time you may receive and wish to use productively. The time table is logged on the personal terminal in your room and on the public one¡¯s throughout the hall. Don¡¯t just show up to train whenever you want, you will be leered at and judged an impatient or unobservant moron. Fighting is expected, but rules are in place for this. Set a time slot and fight it out in the arena. No fighting anywhere else. And NO LETHAL DAMAGE. Fight under the allowed rule sets or don¡¯t fight at all.¡±

    Mediknight stepped back, leaving the floor to Aegis.

    ¡°Well, that sounds like everything. So, you two can go now, I have the first actual lesson.¡±

    Para sneered again, but walked off with Mediknight.

    ¡°Don¡¯t spoil them, you¡¯ll only make their failure worse.¡±

    He slammed a locker room door behind them as Aegis smirked at her new trainees. A smirk that gradually turned a little too hard for how much fighting they just went through.

    ¡®Ugh, please don''t make us do laps.¡¯

 Chapter 11: Bonds Better Than Beating Each Other Up (And Other Excuses To Start Running Laps)

    ¡°ALRIGHT MAGGOTS!!! LeETS Get to¡­ Ppphh okay yeah that¡¯s way too over the top. Hehe!¡±

    Aegis took over the course as if she was always meant to. Like she¡¯d been waiting to do this for a while. Smiling wide and just all around being the exact opposite to Parasonic¡¯s permanent scowl.

    ¡°Heheh, okay. Okay. Now, for the next month, all of you are going to be getting stronger. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all been working out to prepare for this. Training on your own and learning to use your powers. And trying to work out how you can use them to ¡®fight the bad guys¡¯. But, a lot of the time, they can be blocked. Or just straight up defeated and countered by all manner of gadgets. And of course others far more trained up in your power class. So, before you even get to really let loose with what you got, you¡¯re going to have to learn how to fight without them. And before that, you¡¯ll be needing to get much, much stronger. But don¡¯t you worry, we¡¯ve perfected the art of bulking up around here.¡±

    The loosely lined up trainees all had their own consternations or lack thereof, but all expected there to be rigorous routines to this course. But what wasn¡¯t expected was her moving back over to Seth.

    ¡°Para never let you say your name so¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Seth.¡±

    Her expression just cemented his resignation. She really didn¡¯t remember him.

    ¡°Cool. But I¡¯m not going to lie Seth, that suit of yours seems pretty important to you.¡±

    Though his worry clouded the disappointment on his face.

    ¡°You were booking serious G¡¯s and standing up to full body resonation in it after all, that¡¯s serious hardware. But, it¡¯s going to make things harder for you in the long run. I¡¯m not saying it¡¯s what it looks a lot like but¡­ Well all the other recruits are going to be carrying around powers they can¡¯t fully use for a while, and to see you wearing that armor is going to cause some¡­ jealousy? Nah they¡¯ll just straight up hate you for it. So listen. For the next month, I¡¯m going to need you to take the suit off and carry it everywhere you go.¡±

    Seth recoiled. Practically gasped. Streets and stairs were one thing, and he''d been ready to train in the suit itself for the longest time. But carrying it!?

    ...He sighed in surrender knowing full well he should have expected this. At least she was trying to mitigate things.

    ¡°I understand.¡±

    He crooked his shoulder, hitting the release button on the inside bracket so he could step out. Turning and hitting the fold lever on the back and letting it crumple into its travel ready form. Though he flexed his arm in remembered strain at the prospect of hauling it around by hand again, so thought a little and turned looking for some small amount of goodwill. At Cleo.

    ¡°Think... I could borrow two of those belts? Or some straps?¡±

    Who in turn smiled a little maliciously.

    ¡°Sure, anything for yoouu.¡±

    He ignored her more than off putting tone and accepted two materialized, and hopefully inert, leather straps that seemed to slip into reality right in front of him. Long enough lengths to knot and loop into backpack straps around the suit''s folded arms. And thankfully strong enough to take the weight as he pulled it up. Fulling looping into it, the weight was obvious for the other trainees. Who seemed to see it as payback for the free for all, mixed with at least one or two bits of empathy. Aegis glared down the malicious and turned back to him.

    ¡°There. I know it¡¯s heavy, but I also know full well you can handle it. You didn¡¯t walk all the way here wearing it after all. And you fought in it like it was just a paper weight. But, speaking of which, if Para gives you shit about it tell me okay. I¡¯ll knock him on his ass so you don¡¯t get yours handed to you again.¡±

    She turned back to the gathered trainees.

    ¡°Now then recruits! Let¡¯s! Get! Running!!"

    ¡®...Huh!?!¡¯

    ¡°What? This is a training camp! What did you think we were going to do?¡±

    ¡®Fuuuuuuuck¡­¡¯

    Seth trudged in behind as everyone moved over to the wall and aligned with the track lines. The sand just a little harder here, but still giving. He was already starting to regret ever coming up those damn stairs as Aegis stepped up beside them and-

    ¡°Let¡¯s go!!¡±

    Somehow... the running wasn¡¯t actually too bad, once Seth got the massive weight over his shoulders set correctly. Lugging around nearly a thousand and a half pounds of metal with what can only be hoped to be non-maliciously attuned straps of conjured leather was at least easier on flat ground. He even kept pace with the groups already forming. Passing poor David, Jacob, Zeleny, and Razor as he stayed metered and they found out the hard way that endurance was expected. No need to use up everything in the first go round. Though he didn¡¯t have much left anyway, so these reserves were coming from the suit more than his own stores of power. His legs though were already complaining when he hit the halfway point. The more competitive and less taxed of the bunch nearly at the second lap. But if this was all there was then-

    ¡°All right!! Warm lap done now sprint!!¡±

    ¡®Oh you fucking¡­ grrrrr!¡¯

    In no time he hit the start line and picked up the pace at Aegis¡¯ goading. And now his knees were threatening full on revolution. A hip socket started wringing dry. And his back was already starting to feel impacted. But, every time he made it under the control booth, a warm current hit him and those pains disappeared. Only to reappear before he made it halfway again. It was Mediknight¡¯s healing field again, he was watching from up there and extending his aura down to the trainees. Making sure they didn¡¯t tear a tendon apart or wear all the cartilage out of their joints. Or pound their feet into disfigured lumps.

    One more pain already making itself known. Going along with the glare coming down from that booth as well.

    Para was up there watching, holding nothing back even through that plated glass. Just another thing Seth would have to deal with of the course of this course. But he could manage. Feeling those eyes on him again at least distracted away the pain.

    <hr>

    The pain¡­ or lack thereof.

    Para rubbed his cheek, feeling that hit again and again. Staring down at the ingrate who struck him as he passed by over and over. Around and around. And each time more and more of the pain coming back. Out of the numbness he rubbed away. There was something about this kid that didn¡¯t make sense to him. And that drove the grind of his jaw adding more understandable pain. Even as it wafted away like sand on a shoreline. Medi¡¯s presence more irking than it should be.

    ¡°What did you get from that brat?¡±

    Mediknight sat watching the screens arrayed before him, watching this new batch of trainees go round and round, hitting his field and rippling it as they left. And also watching several read outs and report scrolls from the lower level medical wing. Judging whether this was the best use of his time. And so far, it was.

    ¡°He has powers. You¡¯re not allowed to doubt that. But what kind¡­ That¡¯s harder to judge.¡±

    ¡°I can doubt him as much as I want. No one comes here wearing that much metal without reason. He¡¯s got strength enough to carry it, but that doesn¡¯t mean shit. Either he¡¯s compensating or he doesn¡¯t even trust himself. So why the hell should we?¡±

    ¡°Because the alternative in indeterminate. At least here we can watch and direct him if he is sincere. If not¡­ Well assaulting a member of the Elite has put more than enough eyes on him.¡±

    ¡°Hrmph¡­ Not enough.¡±

    Para¡¯s hand whipped away from his fully feeling face, as he stormed around and left Medi to his watching. His own plans more important than seeing what he already knew. He had applications to scour and plenty of other failures to form into something that could be called heroes one day.

    <hr>

    Seth burned through the rest of his saved up energy just trying to stay conscious by about lap fifty, even with the stuff he''d soaked into the suit before coming here. Sprawling out on the sand as best he could with his suit still on his back as Aegis finally let them stop. The other trainees at least were mutually exhausted, if not outright broken from the excessive running. The heaving fit that was the cut off for this first session seemed to suck every last bit of oxygen out of the arena. But despite what should have been catastrophic to the trainee¡¯s ability to move, they all still remained mobile. At least as mobile as a ninety year old arthritis victim. Plenty of other trainees had joined him on the ground in short order.

    ¡°Whoo!! Good work you guys! So who¡¯s up for a few dozen squat thrusts to get the blood really pumping?¡±

    At least twelve sets of nearly mummified death glares moaned toward her, the collective wheezing of the damned was all that could be mustered. And she knew that plain as day as her smile wrinkled flat.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m kidding. Yall can go get lunch, it¡¯s about time for it anyway.¡±

    Slowly, very slowly, the trainees stumbled to their feet and shuffled toward the door they came in from. Dead on their feet, except for Kaze, who just walked alongside Aegis as she made sure everyone was able to make it out.

    ¡®Humph. He¡¯s probably trained like this every day. Can¡¯t have fallen too far from his dad after all.¡¯

    The trudge through the locker room at least showered them in Mediknight¡¯s healing field again. Getting a good bit of energy back as they changed out of their costumes. Seth¡¯s back creaking like the bench he dropped his suit on. No will left to keep it out of the way, also all that pain fading away was giving him an unimaginable appetite. He left it there for now, some dread that he was going to come back to it for something worse than running.

    Showered, sore, and back in street clothes, or just in a cleaner version of her suit for Cleo, everyone headed on down the hall toward the south side of the periphery. Toward an emanating smell that seemed to give back what an ensuing soreness took away.

    It was divine, meat seasoned in black pepper and blends. Potatoes boiling in broth and butter. Onions caramelizing alongside it all. And fresh baked bread. A full meat stew platter being prepped before their noses as they made it into the canteen.

    Tables, both round and school cafeteria fold outs, scattered about. Some already filled with other heroes waiting just as hungrily. A window and buffet line, heat lamps and views into the kitchen taking up the far wall. And a single hat running back and forth passed the window.

    ¡°Go ahead and sit anywhere, you¡¯re gonna love Ambrose¡¯s cooking.¡±

    ¡®I already am!¡¯

    No one could vocalize it, but as soon as bowels started being popped out under the heat lamps no one would need to. It was like a home cooked meal from a movie. Except made for a five star restaurant. The bread nearly turned his brain off right then and there. The meat just melted away as he bit into it. The potatoes exploded in as good a way as they could ever. The broth it was all in made it seem like Seth was in a home he never had. Almost falling into a sobbing fit of joy. If not just passing out in the stew like Razor almost did.

    ¡°Gah! Hot! It¡¯s so good but it¡¯s so hot!¡±

    If this was just lunch, what the hell was dinner like?

    ¡®It¡¯s no wonder they fail so many people. They just want to keep this for themselves!¡¯The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The soreness melted with the meat in his mouth, whatever bad memories that tried to interrupt from the hunger were smothered away. This was heaven, just as much as it was hell.

    ¡®I don¡¯t want to ever leave this seat.¡¯

    But he still had to. Once everyone was fed and back to being able to stand on their own, Aegis corralled them toward the dormitories. Up a flight of stairs and above the southern half of the periphery. She handed off each trainee to their respective rooms, giving them some time to rest and get used to their new homes.

    They were fairly small, but not quite broom closets. A built in bed and dresser on one side, sunken into the wall. A sink and enclosed bathroom in the back. Even a fold out desk and chair on the opposite. Seth could live with it, even if he basically crawled into it and passed out on the bed. It at least didn¡¯t have yellowed wallpaper after all.

    Each room also had an aforementioned terminal that popped out of the wall above the desk. Full access to the internet, so the Garkah were happy even if he couldn¡¯t feel it passed the thrum of his over worked heart. Though apparently there were serious security features keeping it monitored and controlled. Can¡¯t have League secrets getting out so easily, they had access to the full schedule and directory for The Hill¡¯s facilities after all. Apparently they ran tours through every other week for the key facilities though, and have quite a few events marked up well in advance. But nearly all of them were blank. Just set dates to expect something maybe. All in all this was probably a life he could still get used to.

    After a short rest of feeling fat and happy in bed, Seth and the rest were called back into the arena. A few of the other sectors were being used for sparring matches and the hits were shaking things a bit. But it seemed like this was just a time for Aegis to tell them what was ahead¡­

    What a month¡¯s worth of super strength training meant.

    More sprints around the arena, all four hundred yards of it in intervals up to seventy five laps. Standard push-ups and sit-ups sets, but wholesale in the hundreds. Weight training in increments from fifty to two hundred pounds. Even full on deadlift routines almost reaching half a ton on their own.

    For half of this first week Para would be tagging in, with all the expected accosting that entailed. His training focusing more on competitive regimens rather than straight work outs. Obstacle courses being his favorite, but some days he would mix things up with full ton block pushes and ''actual'' endurance runs. And, if by the end everyone wasn¡¯t passed out or close to it, he¡¯d make them run it again. With just that knowledge alone the trainees were all left comatose in their beds, only even thinking of moving when dinner was being served.

    ¡®I regret¡­ all my life choices¡­¡¯

    The next day started with a pushup set. Seth lost feeling in his arms after the first fifty, don¡¯t ask about the next hundred. Much of the other workouts were similarly brutal, sit ups at least offered a reprieve, the suit acting as a spotter. But of course to compensate, he had to do an extra hundred. The weight training ended up being just squats in weighted clothing. And Seth already had all he needed to weigh him down, so Aegis let him stay burdened as is.

    But he had the hardest time when Para tagged in.

    ¡®Because of course he was a bitter asshat!¡¯

    He regularly stood on Seth¡¯s block during the one ton block push, using it as a stage to berate anyone who fell behind him. He at least didn¡¯t limit his accosting, but it was annoying to be considered the low point in the class.

    ¡®What normal person could survive all this shit, huh!?¡¯

    The obstacle course was obscene though. The best times got to rest for longer, but much of it wasn¡¯t designed to handle the weight going over it. Let alone what Seth brought along through it. Logs and ropes snapped with regularity. And each time Para hit the whole group with collective punishments, usually devolving into more endurance runs. The idea he favored competition but distributed collective punishments was downright radicalizing to everyone, especially Seth since he was the one most likely to be called out for it. Thankfully Aegis stepped in after the first few sessions devolved and took over the obstacle course. To balance the schedule, Para opted for rock climbing races, the indoor units at least proving sturdier than the wooden obstacles. And at least it was instructive.

    ''Going to have to do a lot of climbing. Why couldn''t the Garkah have given me levitation or something?''

    By the end of the first week, the trainees were beaten to shit. They were allowed weekends off, but everyone used them to simply remain passed out in their beds. Seth using the time to watch TV on his terminal and recharge. Even though he quit, he still liked keeping tabs on the armor industry at large. How else would he be sure that what he left would get used? Also he was too much of a couch potato to really do much else.

    The next week started with more of the same, but... was surprisingly less taxing. Even those that struggled with the training were handling the strain better. It was almost like a normal morning jog to sprint around the arena by the second day. Like an average routine set to knock out three hundred pull ups. Or just a casual attempt on the obstacle course to barrel through it in thirty seconds. They were all still pretty sore though, but the improvement was something else.

    By the end of that second week the trainees were actually set to enjoy their weekend off, though they were evidently confined to The Hill. A lightly organized night out to get to know each other better shot down before it even had time to cook. Apparently the League on its own has serious considerations for security. Though Para was adding his own brand on top. So all they got was a get together in the canteen during off hours, so they didn¡¯t get between official heroes and their own meals.

    Seth wasn¡¯t the biggest socialite, but wasn¡¯t about to not go. It basically replaced their lunch break anyway so if he didn¡¯t go he¡¯d miss out. And he really didn¡¯t like going hungry. And Ambrose was making chicken pesto paninis that smelled like an Italian countryside.

    And, it didn¡¯t really go too bad. Even in the face of how that first day had started. He even brought his helmet to try and dispel some of Para¡¯s bullshit and show off a little bit of his craftsmanship. Though everyone else was kind of expected to do the same in their own ways. And say more than just the minimum that Para let them say.

    ¡°My name is Cleopatra Bradberton, and I enjoy many things.¡±

    Cleo obviously organized the whole thing and so took immediate charge of the format. And apparently wasn¡¯t holding a grudge for the gut shots, thankfully. She seemed to be the creative type and started listing off a lot of stuff she¡¯d done in the past. Band, origami, speed skating? She never settled on one thing for too long¡­ Other than leather, which she learned the full ins and outs of by the time she was six.

    ¡®Why?¡¯

    ¡°I just like it. It feels like me, you know?"

    The worried groans from everyone at least told Seth he had common cause.

    Maya was standoffish by comparison, but relented as everyone started staring.

    ¡°Ughh. My name is Maya Montoya Herrera Guerrera Torres¡­ That enough for you?¡±

    Not quite the full flashbang, but a lot of the stares were withered. Though Jacob seemed to recognize the name.

    ¡°Like the Torres and So¡­ons?¡±

    And then stepped on the landmine everyone was avoiding as she glared at him with just as much malice as she gave to Para for his brazenness.

    ¡°sorry¡­¡±

    His apology stayed the fuse, but it was clear she didn¡¯t like to share. Though that glare moved off of Jacob and landed unjustly on Seth without even noise made. Or more aptly it landed on his helmet. He smirked at challenge she¡¯d silently tried to drop on top of him and handed her the helmet. The disgust on her face said plenty, but the way she nearly tipped over at the sudden weight of it had the desired effect. Driving that disgust into the beam trying to lighten her up. And succeeding.

    ¡°You made this?¡±

    ¡°Yup! Full spec, drive train and all.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ you work for the industry?¡±

    ¡°Not any more but yeah, maintenance over at-¡±

    ¡°Because my family¡¯s been run off sites and muscled out of contracts by too many of your precious¡­ suits!¡±

    ¡°¡­That was probably Malachite. Those fuckers are aggressive. Because they make utter crap that can¡¯t stand toe to toe with actual powers.¡±

    Seth kept his smile in the face of generalized accusation. But that was about all he got before that helmet came hurtling back. Maya sneering a touch lighter for the effort. And for the sprained wrist.

    David sheepishly interceded, and looked like he was about to apologize for splashing Seth and almost ambushing Maya during the free for all.

    ¡°M-My name is David Belus a-and I like swimming.¡±

    Kinda tame but okay.

    ¡°And¡­  I want to¡­ I want to be a hero like my dad! I want to get stronger!¡±

    There we go, nodding heads and meeting smiles all around. Most around. Marco didn¡¯t seem to smile much, Razor didn¡¯t want to be seen smiling, and Ohm was just¡­ Ohm. Though Maya cheered up a bit, so that was a success.

    ¡®Good for him, he definitely needs the help.¡¯

    Jacob even patted him on the back as he took everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°My name¡¯s Jacob Whalen and¡­ yeah¡­ my mom¡¯s the Fire Chief for Kadia.¡±

    ¡°hrmph¡­Not all of it.¡±

    A confused look turned to Razor trying to look like he didn¡¯t just say something under his breath. Only getting shrugs in return.

    ¡°Soooo¡­ I¡¯m hoping to get to her level and help out with emergencies in more ways than just putting out fires.¡±

    A few snickered, mostly Kabar, but his goal wasn¡¯t too bad.

    ¡®But his mom really is a really good firefighter. He is sooo fucked.¡¯

    When you¡¯re in competition with the League for saving people you kinda have to be. Seth had actually seen her once when one of the steel mills had an accident and nearly spalled a line of superheated metal out of its doors. Her truck was on the scene in minutes and was icing over the ever extruding I-beam. And curtailing all the burns a twisted hell spaghetti caused as it whipped around out of anyone¡¯s control. She even froze the steel so cold it shattered so the mill could be repaired faster.

    ¡®So very fucked.¡¯

    Macro was next in line.

    ¡°My name is Marco Smith. I want to become stronger as well.¡±

    ¡®¡­Okay.¡¯

    He didn¡¯t continue, and didn¡¯t budge as everyone stared and gestured for anything more. So Tabby just took the rest of the moment.

    ¡°I¡¯m Tabatha Lyon and I enjoy ballet. And I¡¯m hoping to¡­ get stronger as well?¡±

    ¡®Knew that spin was more than just a roundhouse.¡¯

    A running theme was starting to show, but commonality bred teamwork so no one was complaining. Except Ohm, who was next.

    ¡°Heh¡­ as if I would tell you my last name. Or even need to. My name is still Ohmega to you. And if you have an issue, take it up with my father. Things like to disappear in his presence, so I¡¯d tread lightly.¡±

    ¡®And Para was calling me the silverspoon?¡¯

    He didn¡¯t even say who his father was, so what was the point of all that?

    ¡°Oh. And if you fucking call me Clarence I¡¯ll fry you alive.¡±

    ¡°He also has a brother named Richter in the medical wing. Floor 30, if you want to lodge a more formal complaint.¡±

    Kaze smiled just ever so slightly, as Ohm tried to melt his face off with his eyes.

    ¡°My name is Kaze, my family doesn¡¯t really use surnames. My father and I hope you all become great heroes someday, but also know that the road ahead is rough. Also my favorite color is magenta.¡±

    Tabby shot up.

    ¡°Oh, shit we¡¯re doing colors now! Mine¡¯s sand!¡±

    ¡°Burnt orange.¡±

    ¡°Kabar wait your turn!¡±

    ¡°I like black.¡±

    ¡°¡°¡°We Know!¡±¡°¡°

    ¡®Huh¡­ I kinda like the color of blue.¡¯

    ¡°I¡­ugh¡­ like green.¡±

    ¡°We know that too Zel.¡±

    Kaz was stuck flatly smiling in the middle of the uproar he¡¯d caused.

    ¡°Let¡¯s table colors for now.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, fine. You¡¯re up Zeleny, you were last.¡±

    ¡°M-my name is Marketa Holanova, Zeleny if you¡¯d like, and I¡¯m hoping to be a hero. Like¡­ I believe my mom was.¡±

    The excitement from before died down with Zeleny¡¯s demeanor.

    ¡°I never got to know her, only my dad and his family over in Europe. I just¡­ want to be a hero here. Where she was. So maybe she¡¯ll find me, or I¡¯ll find her.¡±

    Alex, next in line, tried to pick up the drooping mood. With her phone out and translating.

    ¡°Is that why you want to be called Green in Czech?¡±

    ¡°Yee¡­ yeah. That¡¯s what she called me apparently. I don¡¯t know why, but¡­ I like it.¡±

    ¡°¡°¡°We know.¡±¡°¡°

    ¡°You¡¯re next Alex.¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah¡­ I¡¯m Alex Cartwright. I¡¯m from here in Kadia. I hope to be a hero. And my favorite color is burgundy.¡±

    Straight to the point¡­ and yet still kinda lacking. Like she didn¡¯t want to say much more than that. But no one really called her out. Just devolved back into-

    ¡°I like seafoam.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s this shade of ice on bergs that-

    ¡°Neon yellow.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Gold.¡±

    These guys really like colors for some reason. Getting at least a shared chuckle and side eye barrage from the obvious and less expected. Alex might be a bit too good at distracting people.

    ¡®And I swear I feel her looking at me more often than not.¡¯

    ¡°I like rust. My name is Razor by the way. And I don¡¯t hope to, I¡¯m gonna be a hero and yall are just gonna have to deal with it.¡±

    ¡®Please stop, we don¡¯t need two Ohms.¡¯

    ¡°Is that all?¡±

    The circle was coming back toward him, so Seth felt like speaking up a bit.

    ¡°N-no¡­! But I don¡¯t need to tell you everything! ¡­I have other friends for that.¡±

    Better than nothing. At least he had someone to fall back on. Or to. Kabar snickered his place in line and kept the flow going.

    ¡°I¡¯m Kendrick Vaughn, but call me Kabar alright. I¡¯m from here in Kadia, my parents own the suit tailors down on floor 26. And my mom has a running feud with Jacob¡¯s mom.¡±

    ¡°Ugghh seriously?¡±

    ¡°Hey, they can squabble all they want. Doesn¡¯t mean I have to buy into it.¡±

    ¡°Says the guy who doesn¡¯t have an entire fire corps just waiting to rib him for this.¡±

    The light mood came back with smiles at Jacob¡¯s expense. And Seth felt just that little bit more confident.

    ¡°You made your suit yourself, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Kabar¡¯s face rather quickly turned as red as his glare back, but Seth just pointed down to the helmet in his lap.

    ¡°You know¡­ same. And it''s awesome work by the way. The stitching I mean.¡±

    His sneer was withering away that small bravery, but still had an effect.

    ¡°Hmph¡­ Yeah, I made it myself. Who else was going to? ¡­So what, you just made that by hand?¡±

    ¡°Y-yeah. Built it in my garage. I used to work for-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t care. What do you use for padding in it?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ It¡¯s just some ugh¡­ a layer of specialized gel and fabric I-¡±

    ¡°How did you secure it?¡±

    ¡°I stapled it.¡±

    ¡°Amateur.¡±

    ¡°¡­But I don¡¯t know how to sew.¡±

    Seth¡¯s bit of bravery smudged, but he still had to say a bit about himself. Because it was his turn next.

    ¡°Anyway, my name is Seth Tarrow, I¡¯m from here in Kadia too, and I¡¯ve been working on and building suits since I was 14.¡±

    The enthusiasm waned, but didn¡¯t flat line at least.

    ¡°Oh! And my favorite color is blue. But like the blue that electrical arcs sometimes shine at.¡±

    ¡°So just like really bright white blue?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯ve seen it before. It¡¯s kinda green and blue mixed together.¡±

    ¡°I thought electricity was yellow.¡±

    Well, things could have gone better, but at least they weren¡¯t pure hostility anymore. And apparently everyone really liked to take about colors. And had some touchy subjects to avoid. And knew next to nothing about electricity.

    ¡®Seriously? Yellow?¡¯

    The next week flew by, everyone feeling stronger and stronger each day. Even as the training regiments shifted to more specialized courses. Namely those rock climbing sessions. It was touch and go as Para increased the grades, but Seth could manage. The weight on his back did him no favors though. But at least they had gear to keep it, and him, secured to the safety lines hung over the wall.

    Still everything was looking good. No one falling behind, let alone washing out. The general muscle tone between the lot of them was kind of off putting. In that it was way less than expected of this kind of extreme workload. Most wagered all that good food was full of some weird toned down steroids, others just passively thanked Mediknight¡¯s abilities for the moderated gains as is. Speaker seemed to affirm that suspicion.

    ¡°Becoming dense is good, but remember to practice at your own healing. Better to not have to rely on others after all.¡±

    ¡®Don¡¯t you start too.¡¯

    Whatever the cause, they were certainly more geared toward endurance than extreme strength. One session without Mediknight¡¯s healing field told Seth that clear as day. A bad slip from the wall had sent Jacob careening to the sand on his arm, but instead of snapping it apart he just picked himself up and rolled off the discomfort. They were building muscle more like fighters rather than body builders, so it protected just as much as it powered. Their skin was toughening too. Not a single scrape and callous even after pushing all those heavy concrete blocks around. Things still weighed them down, they didn¡¯t all have super strength, but things were looking good.

    Good enough for Para to alter his courses for the last week of the month.

    To everyone''s detriment.

 Chapter 12: So then... Thats Where You Left It

    The sand was starting to feel comforting as the trainees lined up for Monday drills. A nice thing laid out to catch them should they fall. A little growing counterbalance to the outright menace that was Para waited for them as usual.

    ¡°Aright. You¡¯ve all made progress¡­ I guess."

    Though maybe a bit of his edge was lapsing.

    "But don¡¯t expect things to be easy now that you¡¯ve gotten somewhere."

    Only a bit though.

    "Next week you¡¯ll be starting fight training, as well as a little selected coursework. Can¡¯t have you just skip out on a proper education. But this week though, oh this week you''re all mine. To prepare you properly for fighting at the level expected of you, we won¡¯t be doing standard training routines. Instead you''ll be learning to control all that strength you¡¯ve built up. And to start that all off... Aegis!!¡±

    The lined up trainees looked to an opening storage door on the side of the arena. It was large, almost reaching the stands above it, but no one could make out what was actually inside the space. The keen eyed saw a rounded shape matched into the darkness, but could only put real definition to it once the door was fully open and the object started rolling. And when Seth finally saw that matte black exterior roll into the light, he and the Garkah reeled.

    The sphere from the center of his town, the Garkah¡¯s Ark that had fallen on and taken away his old life. The source of the greatest disaster this world had ever seen. But it was¡­ different.

    The melded in space rocks had been removed, and it was visibly scarred from all manner of attacks. Cracks from punches, burns and slightly melted sections from energy attacks, there was even a deep, but limited, gash from a sword. As Aegis somewhat effortlessly rolled it out onto the arena floor more marks became visible, but none of them seemed to be anything more than surface wounds. It finally stopped behind Para, looming over him at nearly three times his size. Seth hadn¡¯t realized it was that big, but it was half buried and in a crater last time.

    He could feel the Garkah scramble for understanding, a few looking for countermeasures if the worst was coming due already. Worry that the League deduced their presence, learned something from the Ark, or worse restarted it. All those thoughts rang away as Para slammed a hand onto the sphere. Resound with a deep metal gong and silencing the trainee¡¯s gossip that Seth was too lost in thought to hear.

    ¡°A few of you seem to understand just what this is, good for you. For the uneducated, this is¡­ was¡­ the source of the Laceroid Crisis.¡±

    Seth was forcibly reminded of the first few months in the orphanage, hearing that name attached to news reports. Hating it. Watching speculations over the cause fill the hours. The classifications of the monsters that were his¡­ Seeing the casualty numbers rise every day. Hundreds of thousands were dead by the end. A globe spanning effort, all the terror and pain, everything the crisis had caused. All of it had stemmed from this massive black sphere. And yet no one could figure out what the hell it was.

    The trainees were visibly shaken up a bit by its presence here, Seth especially. But¡­ but he understood he needed to get ahead of things before his reaction drew notice.

    ¡°Why¡­ is it here?¡±

    The grit on his teeth and warble of his voice turned the trainees toward him, most seeing a similar stare of deep seated dread.

    ¡°It¡¯s here¡­ because no one can do anything with it.¡±

    The trainees turned back to Para, scowling at Seth for interrupting.

    ¡°This accursed thing is virtually indestructible, these marks and cuts are proof of that. They weren¡¯t made by tools or machines. These are all marks from some of the strongest heroes we have left.¡±

    Para rolled the sphere back slightly, the massive weight undeniable as it creaked the floor of the arena despite the sand. An indent that appeared to crack its surface slightly came in over his shoulder.

    ¡°This one was made by Kineticlysm, the force he put out almost leveled the old Terrace base.¡±

    He rolled it again showing a melted blast mark.

    ¡°This was made by our very own Hothead, the temp he put out was measured at just a touch over 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit. This thing could skip off the surface of the sun and still remain solid.¡±

    He rolled again, revealing the gash from before.

    ¡°This is the deepest damage we¡¯ve ever done, and Makani Samurai¡¯s contribution. He studied this damn thing for months, tested every weakness, every attack angle. This was the best he could do. Today we use it as a test of true strength and skill among the League¡¯s heroes. A rite of passage for the best of the best from all over the world. If you can leave a mark on this thing, you¡¯re strong or skilled enough to do anything.¡±

    The trainees lit up at this comment, raised dread melted away by common spite and future recognition. Secondary goals were powerful motivation. A few though seemed to truly relish in the fact that the cause of the crisis was being used as a punching bag. Para killed the motivation real quick.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it. We get enough demands from the other bases as it is. And it¡¯s off limits to trainees¡­! With one exception. Today I¡¯m taking you all up to the mountains, we¡¯re going to find the steepest rock wall we can find and we are going to climb it. First one to the top gets to smack the ball. Once! I sure hope those rock climbing routines stuck, because this is going to be a free climb. No safety, no ropes, just you and the wall. Now come on, transport¡¯s waiting.¡±

    The trainees funneled out, leaving Aegis out of the loop and begrudgingly pushing the several ton sphere back into storage. They followed Para through the periphery of the arena to the logistical side of The Hill. Passing dispatch and command-and-control rooms bustling with support staff. Till leaving through a wide cargo door to the outside platforms, landing pads for the League¡¯s VTOL transports. And in turn led to the only active craft on the deck, that had Mediknight leaving it as they approached.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to do this without me. Can¡¯t be gone from The Hill for very long. Left plenty of canteens for you though, and a few med packs. But do try not to fall.¡±

    He walked off, staying at the doorway to watch the class leave. That empty stare almost feeling worried as Seth moved to board. The trainees crowded in and strapped down into jumper seats on both sides of the craft. As Seth stepped on, it audibly groaned under the weight of his suit. Limit alarms blaring from the cockpit as the pilot winced in his seat. Seth strapped the suit to the cargo hooks in the center of the floor to try and balance out the weight, and calm the sensors, before taking a seat himself.

    Para scanned up the rows and gave a thumb to the pilot. The craft beginning to thunder to life despite the burden, dual tilt-jet engines roared deafeningly as it lifted off slowly. But the noise from the engines disappeared as the loading ramp closed, leaving nothing but the metal reverb to fill the silence. No one really knowing what this was going to really be, and few wanted to test Para for a good mood.

    The trip was quick at least, a bank or two out of the city''s airspace and a bit of acceleration to get them there all the turbulence they had. Also the pilot had apparently scouted the area ahead of time, so the mountains were fairly close.

    ¡°Trust me, the view¡®ll be worth the climb.¡±

    Para glared at him for encouraging his trainees, and answering the silent questions himself as he turned back to the cockpit window, scanning the area around the ascent.

    ¡°Land there, we¡¯ll walk the rest of the way.¡±

    The craft wobbled and pressed Seth into his seat as it turned to land in a clearing. Touching down with a compressing thunk.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay on station if you-¡±

    Para dead eyed the pilot into silence and waved his trainees out.

    Everyone funneled down the ramp as the engines died down before it blew too much of a dust storm into being. But, as he hefted the suit back on his back, Seth could see the area was¡­ kinda odd. Relatively young saplings surrounded long dead trees that still stood at defiant attention. There was no canopy left in the forest here, like a massive fire had swept through years ago. He actually recognized some of the plants, a bush he¡¯d seen in his backyard and a small flower or two that grew like weeds when his dad had made him try at mowing the lawn. It was just a lot more barren than his old home. A lot less dark of a forest. And, as the engine finally stopped¡­ it grew quiet.

    Completely quiet.

    The mountains still loomed over their clearing, but were a mile or so away. A visible set of trails snaking out toward them, just as defiant despite what should be considerable disuse. Para passed the nature observant trainees and headed up the straightest trail to the mountain, everyone filing in behind him without a word. As if the quiet would allow them to.

    Seth felt like this exercise was going to be as odd as the scenery. Para had mentioned they would learn control, but free climbing seemed like too simple a task for that. Though he realized it would be simple for everyone else, the obscene amount of dead weight on his back coloring his expectations.

    Only to have that turn down several more shades as Para finally stopped everyone. At the base of an almost sheer wall of sedimentary stone that curved out around them. Though even calling it stone was too much. There were obvious soft spots in between several of the rocks, and a substantial wash flowed away from its base in browns, blacks, and tans. This wasn''t a wall, it was a landslide ready to happen.

    ¡°We¡¯ll rest up here. Tabby, Kaze, fire wood. Combo Breaker, fire pit. Toaster, fire. Waterboy, Snowcone, fill up those canteens. Butterknife, Ditto, I know you brought food, prep it here, you¡¯ll be sharing it at the summit. Everyone else, butts down.¡±

    Everyone did what they were told, though with obvious obstinance at the continued use of those derogatory nicknames. Maya raised a stone ring to act as a fire pit. The area was fairly barren this close to the mountain and the wind blocked away by the slight divot they had stopped in, but Para seemed to at least subscribe to safe camping practices. Razor and Alex asked Maya for a table for prep work and were quickly given one to cut up the sandwiches they had apparently secreted with them. Though it seemed like Razor was being used more as a mule in this exchange. Half his pockets being turned out with little bagged squares. David and Jacob meanwhile took turns filling and icing everyone¡¯s canteens.

    Kaz sized up a few small dead trees that lined the path behind them and sliced them up while Tabby scrounged up loose twigs for kindling. Kabar poked at the empty fire pit with a slowly burning twig he¡¯d picked up. Once finally given burnables, he ignited the twig and stuffed it into the kindling, using his hands to add to the smoldering spark as needed. The rest of the group gathering around the growing fire. The cold mountain air wasn¡¯t too bad but the warmth made it nice and relaxing. Baring the odd grit in the smoke. Seth sat down, letting his suit fall back like a makeshift seat back so he could lounge. Para leered at him almost immediately for it, so he sat up a bit more properly.

    ¡°Now. You should have noticed by now that the wall behind me is unstable. The connecting soil, dust, ash, and sand between the rocks makes this climb treacherous for even seasoned climbers. It takes more than strength to pull yourself up on this thing. Pull too hard and you¡¯re liable to loose a boulder that will, at best, take you with it. At worst, you''ll be taking out everyone below you. To this end, I¡¯m allowing limited power use, but no pulleys, no flying unless you fall. And no breaking my wall! You ruin it, I will make you drag that accursed sphere around the arena until you pass out or get crushed by it. Is that understood?¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    """Yes sir!"""

    Seth was almost astonished by the unanimous affirmation. Even if he was a jackass, the trainees still begrudgingly respected him. To that end they quickly rested and planned their ascents.

    Kaz and Razor were going to use their weapons as artificial handholds, so had things somewhat easy. Everyone else was left with just their hands.

    Jacob could use his powers to freeze his in place, but was worrying about leaving slick spots for the others. Tabby seemed to have things made, taking on the form of a snow leopard and testing the first couple of handholds.

    Maya tested the consistency of the loose material, outwardly theorizing she could solidify it with a little water. Which David overheard and quickly joined in as support.

    Zeleny tried to cheat slightly by barely floating as she pulled herself upward, but Para spotted and scolded her quickly.

    Before anyone was really ready, Ohm rocketed up the wall. Little care paid for the dangers or the consequences. Marco followed suit, but with more forethought. Both using their powers to add speed and force to their upward momentum, so as to not allow the weak structure to fall out from under them. Alex copied Tabby and gave chase, a red tinted snow leopard looked weird but it was effective. Kabar and Cleo stayed back as the rest started their climbs, taking up the rear of the pack and promising to catch anyone who fell with their lines and straps. No sense winning if someone died along the way.

    That just left Seth to be last, though he was having to alter things.

    ¡°So¡­ does limited powers mean I can stop hauling my suit?¡±

    Para, observing the climbers from below, turned down to glare at him.

    ¡°No.¡±

    Seth¡¯s shoulders dropped in disappointment, but he thought through it again. Releasing the suit from its travel mode, he twisted off one of the gauntlets.

    ¡°How about if get to at least use some of it?¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Just give up and get climbing already. You¡¯re way behind.¡±

    Seth scowled.

    ¡°You and I both know I¡¯m set up to fail this as is. Either I go up without it or you let me use pieces of it. I¡¯m not going up to just fail automatically under weight no one else is carrying.¡±

    Para turned fully to him, meeting scowl with scowl.

    ¡°Fine. If you want to cheat your way through this then go ahead. You weren¡¯t winning this competition anyway.¡±

    Seth turned away, only partially relieved. One small win for another belittling. He took the straps from the suit and fashioned a line to hang it below him by the collar handle, it would be too cumbersome as a backpack otherwise. But not before taking off both gauntlets and putting them on. The gel layer tightening around his hands to keep them there. They would offered traction he didn¡¯t have naturally thanks to their retractable claws. But Seth focused before starting up, making extra sure the gauntlets were locked in place and his hands were strong enough to hold on to what was ahead of him.

    So, with one hand, he raked a low boulder for a handhold until it snagged. Allowing him to pull upward and start his climb one rock at a time.

    But to say this climb was treacherous would be understating it.

    ¡®How something this unstable is still standing is beyond comprehension!¡¯

    Dust and loose pebbles raining down with every foot gained by the rest of the class. Every hold or step up needed three other anchor points to manage the weight, and finding even one was hard enough. What looked like sedimentary rock initially may as well have been a filled in gravel pit that was forcibly turned into a cliff face.

    Thankfully he found some of Maya and David¡¯s quickcrete hand holds, so made better progress than on the path he initially chose. But as he climbed, that began to make itself known. The wind at least was blocked on this slope, but every motion required equal footing to even just progress. His suit becoming more a message against him than a hope for the future. Just deadweight, a stupid idea, too much trouble for what it was worth.

    But those thoughts just wore down the wrong emotions, like the holds getting smaller around hi-

    ¡°FUCK!!!¡±

    A hold suddenly slid free of the wall, loose dust surrounding it slipping the whole concrete block out into Seth¡¯s hand. Thankfully he was at least stable before it tried to drag him back.

    He desperately forced himself forward and slotted the block back in, but saw something strange between exacerbated breaths. Some kind of black dust that hadn¡¯t mixed into the concrete. There was a sorts of sand and gravel and ash and dirt all mixed together in the block, but not this... pitch black dust.

    Seth looked around and saw lines of it everywhere, seams around some of the stones. And on them. Like it had seeped in from above, or rained down over. He didn¡¯t really have time to investigate, his weight was going to weather any holds he held so he had to keep moving.

    Foot by foot he climbed. The claws on his gauntlets allowed him purchase on the larger more stable stones as the hold proved to dangerous. Some of them even had weathered vertical grooves that made it easier.

    But fucking hell was the suit getting heavy! Inordinately so.

    Like all that focusing of power was pointless. Like maybe he hadn''t listened to well to those climbing lessons. He could at least hear celebration from the peak, sounding like Ohm gloating about beating everyone else. He kind of expected that. What he didn¡¯t expect though was Para suddenly appearing right next to him. And climbing up past him barely fazed by the nature of the wall.

    ¡°If you¡¯re this slow with cheats on Tinman, why even bother with the suit. Better to just ditch it all together and start from scratch!¡±

    Seth fought the urge to sneer at him, his balance was a little precarious at the moment, but he still caught the ridiculous speed with which Para clambered upward. Like he¡¯d done this before, grabbing handholds Seth couldn''t even see and moving with barely a single grain falling in his wake. He was a little sure he was the one cheating, but accusations were a luxury right now. And he was only a few yards behind Kabar and Cleo when they pulled themselves over the lip.

    Those last few feet were the hardest though, much of the stable rocks were in pieces, looking almost shattered. And that loose sediment was even finer, running like water when disturbed. So he was restorting to out right stabbing into what solid rocks he could to make progress, every inch a burning struggle on already whining muscle. Like... like they were atrophying with altitude.

    Finally he slammed his armored hand down on the solid plateau that marked the summit, digging metal claws into it for even the slightest grip. Clawing over the lip on all fours, still weighed down and using every ounce of strength he had left to pull up to his feet and hoist the suit up. Before falling into a heaving heap as it cleared.

    He slowly picked himself up, grabbed the suit by the collar and dragging it to a clear spot. The trainees were quiet, exhaustion maybe, he didn¡¯t care. He just found a place and collapsed back into it, leaving the suit to stand guard at his feet as he waited for those probably smooshed sandwiches to be passed around.

    Every muscle, every bone felt stretched near to breaking, and even his power felt drained for some reason. Worse yet, he could feel that dust in his shoes, in his clothes, and despite the seal he could even feel it in the gauntlets. He sat up and yanked them off, but caught sight of the rest of the group before he could flop back down.

    They were all looking out over the landscape below, Para standing ahead of them. And they all looked¡­ tense, despite their exhaustion. Seth struggled up to see what was the¡­ big¡­ deal¡­

    He saw it immediately. How the hell did he miss it getting up here?!

    ¡®HOW THE HELL DID I NOT SEE IT!?!¡¯

    The landscape below wascut in two. One side pure barren wasteland, pockmarked craters and poisoned earth. What tree line remained so very dead, burned, and almost completely gone. But the other side was abandoned by all the rest of that definition. Overgrown concrete slabs and hollowed out warehouses as far as the eye could see. And in the middle of it all¡­ was a wall.

    The Wall.

    Seth''s knees failed as the weight of the past fell upon him. He¡¯d tried to put the worst of the crisis behind him, tried to move on and forget, but those memories were always there. And all began forcing themselves to the forefront en masse. He fought it, thought of all the good already done, all the time since that was better. But nothing could stop what was right in front of him, taking up the world below him for as far as he could see.

    But he could feel Para¡¯s gaze track over him. Justified. He¡¯d planned this from the start, and spared only a small regret at its effects as he turned back and addressed what was now fully known.

    ¡°You all know the stories from that dark time. First Contact, the Signal Massacre, the Longest Day. Well no one tells the stories from this side of The Wall.¡±

    Para moved to face the bombed and once burning landscape on the other inside of the cordon.

    ¡°Up here we didn¡¯t have infrastructure, we didn''t have turrets and soldiers to fill the gaps, nor someone to replace us when the worst came about. All we had was each other, the unforgiving terrain, and an enemy that took everything you had just to hold back.¡±

    He looked down at two indentations, ruts in the plateau that no one paid any mind to. Almost like... boot prints.

    ¡°I stood here 10 years ago. Not much older than most of you. For weeks we were forced to hold this position, your only company the hero to either side, locked to their own positions.¡±

    The trainees looked around, similar plinths stood on peaks that chained down to the real wall below.

    ¡°The only saving grace we had was that the big hordes never came up here. But it still meant we had to fight those fucking things face to face. You know why this wall is so treacherous, it¡¯s because I pulverized it to bury the bastards several times over.¡±

    The past leaked through, Seth putting his hands on his head to try and smother it away, but he couldn¡¯t get the image of the first one he¡¯d seen. Burned practically to the bone, but still dead set on ripping him apart. The look of desperation locked in behind its eyes. Its familiar green eyes.

    ¡°Despite being smashed and buried by boulders and gravel, despite getting crushed to paste and splattered across rocks. They just kept on coming. I even saw them chew and pull their own arms and legs off to get out of the rubble. Every time they just grew back, the sound of it like bacon on a skillet set too high. That sound haunts the dreams of everyone who fought those things. But still, seeing an enemy do everything it can to eat you alive¡­ It adds a lot of perspective to things.¡±

    Seth was trying his damnedest to bury them, to pull back, but he couldn¡¯t stop hearing the screams. Hearing the people who tried to help get ripped apart.

    ¡°Despite how difficult the climb was, they always found a way. Either charging straight up the pulverized rock, or climbing over their falling comrades. So when all else failed, we were forced to fight hand to hand. And you should all know why that was pointless. They tell you to just keep hitting them till they burst, just outlast the healing like a true hero, but the reality is you have to force back 12 for every 1 you can even kill. And the powers they sent up here weren¡¯t making things easy either. Sonic waves disrupted them fine, but my flanks were left to guys with water powers. They did all they could just to force them back every time they attacked, slowing them down in slogs of mud and landslides. But that wasn''t enough. And most of the fire based heroes were assigned to The Wall, because it took priority over everything. So up here¡­ we only had one.¡±

    Seth remembered the smell of the fires, of shrapnel burning through flesh, and of¡­ the dust¡­ caking his hands.

    ¡°She was our saving grace most days. Swooping in to clear our backlogs. Boiling and broiling till there was nothing left but scattering flares and boiling mud. Till she swooped too low. Trying to make sure she was doing her part. Trying to make sure we were safe. One of them leap right off the wall and grabbed her by the cape. Pulled her right down into that campsite we just made.¡±

    The trainees peered over the edge, down at the barren site they camped at, circles radiating out from it that they couldn¡¯t see from the ground. The ground that was rippled like a massive weathered crater. But Seth couldn''t see, couldn''t but see, as slowly he pulled his hands off his head. And felt the grit sticking to his scalp.

    ¡°I was stupid back then. I jumped from my position to try and save her. Blasting as many as I could before we lost our only hope. Driving them off in a rain of sound and fury. All before I even saw it was already too late. She was barely there by the time I had even reacted. Ripped in half and shredded across anything left. Only an arm still left able to move. She¡­ She used that arm to self-immolate, to use everything she was as fuel. To take the horde attacking us with her. I only had a few seconds before she turned herself into a fucking thermobaric bomb.

    "¡­So I climbed. I climbed faster than I ever thought I could. Didn¡¯t look back, didn''t look forward, just let instinct take over and drive me to hell up that wall. I can¡¯t even describe what it felt like¡­ Just that it was.¡±

    ¡°The explosion nearly pulled me right off a boulder before catapulting me most of the way up. The fire she started turned this mountain side into an impassable hellscape. Melted rock into slag and turned trees into pyres. And when I made it to the top¡­ I saw those fucking things suffering. Rolling around in the fire desperate to put it out. Bursting as it consumed them whole. Running screaming in voices that weren''t theirs! But they still¡­! Kept! Coming! They followed me up, burned to the marrow! Snarling with hardly a lung left between them, if even that! I still hear the damn sizzling in my dreams!¡±

    Seth finally looked down¡­ at his numbed hands.

    ¡°So I blasted every single one of them apart. Right then and there. Till their dust rained down like snow. Numbing away everything it touched.¡±

    His blackened hands. Black with that dust. The dust of those dead laceroids. The dust¡­ that used to be his family. Used to be his neighbors, his friends, everyone he just barely knew but-

    All¡­ All their eyes were still staring at him, baring down from all sides. Demanding he see. Demanding he know. But he could only look ahead. Look straight ahead. At hazel eyes crying, staring him in the eye while their body snarled like a starved animal.

    As all that dust fell down upon him. And all the strength he thought he had fell away.

    ¡°Let it be known that this is what will be expected of you as a hero. This is reality for us. You will have to survive odds that will never match up. You will have to learn the hard way that trying to even gain an inch is pointless. That holding the line is all that matters. Because your strength is all that matters¡­ To everyone behind you. To the countless miles behind you that can¡¯t hope to have a fraction of it.¡±

    Seth couldn¡¯t hold out anymore, his vision was blacking, his ears were ringing. He felt Threat trying to reach him. Speaker trying to organize the control room, to stifle memories like it was¡­

    Too late.

    *thumph*

    As it all went out. All his will falling into the ash and dust that caked the plateau. Falling out of this world the only way he could. To spare him from the worse it laid before him.

 Chapter 13: ...All That Had You Tried To Forget

    The town of Frigateville isn''t known for much. Its western neighbor Brighton might be, but who cares.

    Bigger isn¡¯t always better.

    And being situated far enough from civilization to be quaint but close enough to Kadia to at least be a cheap vacation spot, Frigateville thrives in the middle ground.

    With a year round population of around fifty thousand, it is sustainable for how little it may seem to offer. Enough shops to keep a stable variety, plenty of forests to hike and see, and all the quiet comforts of a home away from it all.

    As for the people, most everyone knows each other and help is just a fact of life. And for the safety conscious, almost no incidents have occurred in its decades long history. Not even residually.

    But still, it¡­

    ¡°Are ¡®pamphlets¡¯ always this honest... And sparse.¡±

    ¡®I think? I never bothered reading them.¡¯

    Six weeks. Six weeks had passed since the Ark fell. Six week of almost surreal existence. Six weeks of silence, red hued darkness, scrounging, and living with nothing but yourself and all you carry. But at least Seth had the mattress fort to rival all mattress forts. Boasting two whole stories and even a pillow moat. He had named it Castle Puff and could not but feel pride every time he returned to it after raiding a new home for food and supplies. Whittling away hours with not much else to do but ensure it stood the tests of this time. As well as actually getting to know who all was living in his head.

    He¡¯d just about translated every voices¡¯ title that had sought to make themselves known to him, running a gamut that only a bored eleven year old could come up with. Such insightful things like Concoctor, Matterist, Weaver and Searer. Because being direct was all he had when they described their professions in details that threatened to leak his brain out of his skull. Joining them more mundanely were musicians for instruments too hard to pronounce, metallurgists categorized by specific grades of steel they were specialized in. A hoard of assistants and random passersby that seemed willing to let him name them anything really. Even the occasional lordly claim. A noble title was still a title after all. They were usually left to keep what they had in their tongue though, less they become insulted by the limited vocabulary of a fucking eleven year old boy.

    But, things weren¡¯t going too bad.

    In between the stretches of ceremony and rough lessons on laws of physics that he couldn¡¯t rightly understand, Seth had gathered up every bit of dry goods and canned food he could from what was left of his town. The water system still worked despite the weeks¡¯ worth of negligence, but it was clear it was stagnating and losing pressure. And the power was more of a suggestion than a utility.

    The voices, for their part, had helped ration and plan out every move he made. Not many survivalists were in there, wherever they were in his head. But one Ranger was titled as such. As well as plenty of chefs and a¡­ Gastrologist? That one took Seth by surprise because he didn¡¯t know what that was. But they had all set meal plan up for him, by content and caloric requirement rather than taste. While Ranger had planned out routes to scavenge as efficiently as possible. Seth had to burn through the perishables before they got too warm and molded after all.

    Outside of surviving, they also helped him focus and understand his abilities little by little. As well as focus better on what was slowly becoming his ¡®internal spotlight¡¯. Before, only one voice could be heard at a time, like just a narrow spotlight on a stage. Now it could encompass a few individuals, and no conflicting noise would result. They nearly had a full on control room in there as well, and were¡­ wiring thing into his senses. They agreed a little that it was better for his brain to leave the subtleties for later. When he could pronounce them.

    ¡®I never really knew the town was that big, but then again I¡­ I don¡¯t think I ever explored much.¡¯

    ¡°Not much to see anyway.¡±

    In these six weeks of waiting, Seth was told a little of what had happened. The parts he could handle at least. What they knew at least. The voices, the Garkah as they called themselves eventually, had fled their world because of some horrible force. Or tried to. They couldn¡¯t bring their bodies along, so they took their minds and digitized them. Or something. A scientist kind of voice tried to explain it in detail, but half of it was words with more syllables than meaning and a lot of the rest was hissing and growls. Seth only knew so many words, they still had a lot of translation to do on their end, and their language was apparently stubborn compared to English. The fast he was able to give them names in the end should be considered a miracle.

    Whatever they had done to escape though was interrupted, the thing they were running from catching up and following them into their Ark. That¡­ was apparently how Threat came to join them. The way they explained it, it was like seeing a meteor approaching you. Dreading every second watching it grow larger and larger in the sky. Watching it tear that sky away, decimate the ground, come straight toward you with all the intent to destroy everything you were. But instead of hitting, it turned into a pillow and smacked you in the face. While all the death and destruction that followed in its wake still came along with it.

    It was why the world almost went black for him. The Ark was broken by what had happened, and had spread all that death and destruction through everything it touched. Doing something to¡­ to everyone he¡¯d known. They didn¡¯t know yet what that meant, but they acted as if it was all that mattered. All there was to care about. And told Seth that it was better not for him to ever face it. Ever.

    But they couldn¡¯t ensure he won¡¯t have to eventually.

    ¡°You¡¯d expect to see something on the town¡¯s history maybe. Like a little more about why there was a town out here.¡±

    ¡®Maybe it¡¯s just not old enough to bother. It says decades.¡¯

    Threat, despite what Speaker had said of him, had taken back his responsibility. Had focused on being Seth¡¯s go-to for these weeks of isolation. The guilt in his voice making more sense, but his actions speaking louder. Helping him understand and handle whatever it was that had happened. Helping him grieve for everything that was gone. Everyone that was gone. Like he had experienced something just like this, but so much worse. Leaving him feel like he had to help fill in the silence. Not that Seth was complaining.

    ¡®Or they just want to keep the bulk of the tourists at bay.¡¯

    ¡°Yeah. This place is too small for a real festival. Does it even snow here?¡±

    ¡®Humph. No.¡¯

    Because for the whole of those six weeks, there hadn¡¯t been anything living making noise. No returning birds, no insects calling in the night, even the thunder in the distance had never returned. And it was wearing down on Seth¡¯s resolve. A deafening silence that desperately needed filling. No rescue, no internet, and worse of all even the TV signals were down. Though blowing the entire town¡¯s electrical system didn¡¯t help. But that emptiness was more amenable, given the power that had caused it.

    The Garkah and by extension he, could control the flow of electricity. Usually heating things or powering small appliances. The taught him slowly, but surely. How to move electricity across open air. How to tap into its sources, without burning them. How to feel along the lines as if they were extensions of himself. But all this had limits. The most obvious being there was no more outside power to harness, so the only electricity they had on hand was the buildup from the first day. The stuff he¡¯d somehow siphoned into himself in a fit of¡­ he didn¡¯t really know what. The voices were curating and rationing that build up though, just so there was always a supply and so he wouldn¡¯t be overwhelmed. But it was clear they used it as well for their own reasons most of the time. Their situation wasn¡¯t dire, but rescue was looking to be a long way off.

    ¡°Well it at least confirmed it. There really is only one road in and out, unless you want to walk through the forest for a few days?¡±

    ¡®No! No... I- I don¡¯t like going in there. Let¡¯s just stick to the road, okay?¡¯

    ¡°Okay, okay. Just¡­ don¡¯t expect much better from the roads.¡±

    So time and circumstance demand a change. Seth had finally convinced Speaker to allow him to start moving on, to at least look for help. Brighton wasn¡¯t very far, at least a couple of miles. If they couldn¡¯t find anything they could come straight back and keep waiting. But, really, he wanted something actually complex for once. He still couldn¡¯t cook worth a damn, the lack of proper facilities adding to the issue, and the glut of canned ingredients was making his stomach ache just looking at them. And you can only eat so many crackers and cereal before you feel like you are actively drying yourself out.

    Speaker finally interjected himself into the offhand conversation as it seemed his own preparations were done.

    ¡°The countermeasures are complete and at acceptable levels. This signal should keep back any creatures that happen to get in our way. It was a common defense installation on our world, so should be universally viable. Though I doubt it is strong enough to keep back a *Chohkrrr*, it would seem your wildlife aren¡¯t as attuned as ours. A boon¡­ A hopeful one at least. Speaking of boon, from what amount of the horizon we can see, the fires in the next town have gone out.¡±

    ¡®If only it hadn¡¯t spread and blotted out the sun in every other direction.¡¯

    ¡°Despite that¡­ Keep quiet and keep your eyes open. We can only see what you see, remember. All we have is this signal and hope. Though maybe, if the need arises, the new sensor array Concoctor has¡­ concocted¡­ will be of real use.¡±

    ¡®I still say that thing sounds really weird.¡¯

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s kinda weird.¡±

    Threat reinjected himself into the conversation.

    ¡°Alright! Let us get this expedition started already.¡±

    Seth was prepared to travel for a few days, loaded down with easy dry foods and water bottles. He even scrounged up some survivalist tools and had stuffed them into his jacket pockets. His mother¡¯s red scarf was still stacked up around his neck, providing some cover from the soot gritted the air. He even found a small bed roll, but hoped to not use it much. It had been sitting in a garage a little too long, even before this all started. And so he was set loose early in the morning, what little bit of the sun that could be seen at his back and little bit of hope in his heart. As the silence of his life was broken at last by small shoes crunching asphalt.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    For the first mile or so the road was clear, save for some knocked down road signs. The road to Brighton was a mostly straight shot, but had a few gentle curves that created separated stretches. The forest on either side acted like a natural fence, blocking views of everything within. Like a dark forests from a fairytale. But what few gaps that were present allowed glimpses into even more densely packed forests. Gaps that Seth tried his best not to look into¡­ but failed.

    Many of them looking more like breaches than natural holes. Scratches and torn away bark from something carelessly rushing through them on either side. In fact a lot of the trees along the road looked like they had been scratched up. But¡­ only in one direction. They were intermittent, but clearly kept going ahead of him. Yet when Seth looked back toward town, he saw nothing but untouched trees. It was as if something was rushing away from town, the exact way he was headed. But he had been warned of the danger, he trusted the Garkah had this covered. So he pressed on despite the pounding in his chest.

    The first obstacle came into view as he rounded a lazy corner. A rolled over truck. If it could even still be called that. Which way it had been going didn¡¯t seem to matter as it lay broken and sideways in the middle of the road. As he drew closer he could see the windows were shattered, the body crunched and torn. And the whole driver side door ripped away, with most of the cab along with it.

    Finally upon reaching the wreck though¡­ He could smell it. Motor oil like the stuff his mom used, something metallic and kinda salty he couldn¡¯t place, and death. He knew what death smelled like, it was why he didn¡¯t like going into the forest. Plenty of dead animals had come out of the patch that hugged his backyard, been dragged out into it by coyotes and buzzards. But there was no telling what was still in there. This though¡­ This was different.

    Because at least he could see what that smell was coming from. There was no body here, no bones, no sagging rotting skin. Only dried stains.

    Everywhere.

    The inside of the truck, the outside of the truck, the ground all around the gaping hole in the side. As if the person inside had been¡­

    ¡°We need to keep moving.¡±

    Speaker chimed in before he could linger on that thought. And Seth accepted whole heartedly. Shaking it away as best he could and returning to the road ahead. But that picture in his head still remaining as he passed his town¡¯s welcome sign. He¡¯d seen monstrous villains on TV that scared him, things with teeth and claws. They never showed them in battle, but one time they¡¯d showed a wolf like man shackled and being led away. With red staining them from head to toe.

    He tried to fight that stubborn memory away, one of few but one he wished he didn¡¯t have. But he didn¡¯t need to fight it for long, for the next curve in the road revealed more of the same. But multiplied and worse. Cars tossed to the side of the road, some smashed down right where they were stopped. One even dashed against a tree¡­ Ten feet up.

    The smell was the same. Gas and motor oil like his mom¡¯s scarf used to reek with after working on their car, a metallic tinge he couldn¡¯t escape, and death. Lots of death. Because the blood stains were everywhere. Most still around their cars, but some were in the middle of the road. One wasn¡¯t around anything and seemed different, wider. A deer probably.

    Despite all this obvious death though, he heard or saw no flies, no vultures or buzzards, no coyotes even. And they always made a racket of his fears. This just made it all the more unsettling with their absence. A permanently silent graveyard, soaked in long dried blood. Seth was having second thoughts, compounding fear rising to fight his resolve. But he stifled it and pressed on. Choosing to focus on the road ahead rather than the death around him. He had to keep going.

    These scenes continued all the way to Brighton, but at least the traffic hadn¡¯t been bad. Yet once the town came into view, any bright side was wholly obliterated. Despite the mildly darkened red lighting, Seth could see there weren¡¯t any buildings still standing on the river side of town. Though sparse, he could still see smoke billowing from the far end, but this was only the last dregs of the inferno that had scorched the horizon weeks ago. The rubble that was left of the river side was burned beyond recognition, spilling into the narrow Terrace River and staining it black with ash and debris. The bridge over the river at least surviving, but the trusses were gone from one side. So he had to hurry across like it was a steel groaning tightrope.

    Inside the town, the devastation was more perceptible. Ash choked much of the air, but the ground was only lightly dusted as the wind kept it all moving. The fires had scorched and decimated every home and wooden structure, but the concrete of the center of town seemed to have withstood the inferno.

    What it hadn¡¯t withstood were the holes smashed into almost every structure. A small grocery store had its entire fa?ade caving in, the shoe store on the corner of their main street had an entire wall reduced to a few cinder blocks just barely keeping the roof up. The roads were more of the same, smashed or dashed vehicles permeating much of downtown. Some sticking out of the rubble, some almost unrecognizable as cars. More like melted rusty skeletons. Some of the piles of rubble that used to be building though were widespread, but not as if blown apart. The tops of these piles looking like they were dug out. Like something was searching for what was buried in them.

    The blood stains had persisted despite any caked ash, staining almost every corner of the town that wasn¡¯t burned. But some of it was fresh, or at least not as dry and desiccated as the rest. Meaning¡­

    Seth shakily contemplated all of this, as he fought to keep his resolve. Shutting his eyes to the horror surrounding. Yet only forcing himself to listening to the cracking and falling of rubble, the popping of cinders, the jolting of downed powerlines-

    ¡®Wait, we need that!¡¯

    He snapped out of his spiraling fear and looked around. The jolting was somewhat distant, toward a less obliterated part of downtown, but it was there. He headed on toward it, passing more blood stains, more still fresh. The tinge he smelled was strong through the ashy odor. There was death all around him. But he shook it away. He couldn¡¯t stop, not here. Not this close to-

    He stopped. Stopped not at a sight. Not at a smell. But at a feeling drenched in unimaginable fear. A feeling¡­ that wasn¡¯t his own. It wasn¡¯t his fear, it knew nothing of what he dreaded and yet dreaded something worse. It¡­ was afraid of him.

    Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. Frozen by this sudden terrible new sense just forcing its way on to him, he turned. In an alleyway hiding at the side of a dumpster was¡­ was a man. He was scruffy as if he hadn¡¯t shaved or even had a shower this whole time. A plain blue dress shirt and jeans, torn and frayed and hanging over him. And his eyes were wide, as if he was looking at a ghost. As if his fear was beaming into Seth with no way to stop. He stepped out slightly and rapidly looked down both ways of the road, scanned the remaining roof tops. Cutting that feeling with every redirected gaze. Before finally forcefully waving Seth to come to him.

    Something like relief broke the ice of his own terror, but the state the man was in and his torrential caution washed this relief away in the thaw. He mirrored the man¡¯s scanning and stepped toward him, knowing now what that sense was. The sensors were online and just confirmed the weirdness he¡¯d felt about them. Emotions weren¡¯t meant to be felt like this, not when you couldn¡¯t see who was looking at you. But a small relief regrew, it was another power maybe. Another thing to say he was special.

    In range though, the man knew no such relief. Snatching Seth by the hand and pulling him into the alley, behind the dumpster, behind stacked boxes, and finally behind walling mattresses. He let go long enough to move a mattress back as quietly as possible, but he wasn''t doing his best. He seemed weak, his grip thin like he hadn¡¯t eaten in some time.

    They continued on, coming to a double basement door that opened before they reached it. A woman, wearing a waitress uniform in a similar tattered state to the man¡¯s clothes, lifting the door up and hurriedly waved them in. Another pang of that sense washing over from her direction, the same sudden fear but also something like anger. And desperation. She closed the door behind them but left a conspicuous block of foam between the doors stopping it from clacking closed.

    She forced Seth down into the basement proper, almost tripping him as he turned back to look at the couple. Both of them staring now with over mixed emotions. Down and judging from halfway up the stairs, the red hued light illuminating them through the ajar door. There was disbelief, fear, the man held regret, the woman held anger. She turned away first, hushed tones of scolding fury directed at her fellow survivor.

    ¡°What the hell Derrick, where did you find him!?¡±

    ¡°He- he was just in the road, walking like it was nothing!¡±

    The man seemed more scared now and Seth couldn¡¯t understand why. But¡­ wait.

    As the two argued Seth could feeling something else. Like the emotions from the Garkah but more frantic and pleading. He could only just make out Threat trying to say something, but the arguing kept drowning it out too much to be understood. He pulled back into the basement and covered an ear to listen more closely, but it only spared a few words.

    ¡°countermeasures¡­ too loud¡­¡±

    The arguing rose in tempo so he covered both ears and pressed to seal out the-

    ¡°SETH!!! THE SIGNAL WENT DOWN!! YOU NEED TO GET THEM TO BE QUIET RIGHT NOW!!!¡±

    Seth snapped back in shock, looked up wide eyed to the couple and tried to call them down.

    But no words came out.

    His voice was still on loan, or he had completely forgotten how to speak after all this time! Or whatever it didn¡¯t matter right now!!

    He franticly waved and grunted, trying everything to get their attention, succeeding only just in drawing them away¡­

    Too late.

    The world sank with his heart as the light of the hell outside grew brighter. As he saw the door open behind them. Red light bleeding the color away.

    And a massive scaled claw reaching in.

    Time slow, that grim adrenaline fueled perception that he¡¯d hope to never experience again. He could only watch, he was forced to watch, as that claw swallowed the man¡¯s shoulder whole. Digging claws into his chest and back before he even had time to know what was happening. But this slowness couldn¡¯t hold, couldn¡¯t stand, couldn¡¯t remain. As the man was dragged back at speed exceeding it. And his screams broke it all back down to reality.

    The door was obliterated by his forceful exit. The woman recoiled, but was grabbed by the arm by another claw from the other side. She tried to pull away down the stairs, but only succeeded in having her arm dislocate as the rest of her was dragged out the door.

    Both screaming, pleading, sounds like punches against brick walls, desperate fighting against¡­ Against-

    Roaring! Growling! Snapping and squelching. Screams too high not to be heard. Warbling and being thrown every which way. More snapping! More smacking! And more footfalls like stone being cracked apart. Smashing! Roaring! Fighting! Dying out sobs. One scream suddenly crescendoing to an unholy-

    *SNAP*

    The world, the basement, the light in his eyes. Seth was left with nothing but the sounds of ripping and tearing flesh, of bones snapping in jaws, of hungry fighting over scraps, of¡­

    He blacked out, right then and there. Everything falling away in its entirely. Trapped standing as his mind refused to stop working. Psyche just shutting down right then and there. Without ever making a sound. Without anything left of his hope. With nothing¡­

    But the drone of¡­

    The metal dimmed drone of jet engines.

    The emptiness of his mind not so empty as he wished. Back on the VTOL and headed home, but knowing full well what his real home was. He tried to blink the world into focus, but his eyelids felt heavier than ever. Tried to get himself away from that place, but only succeeded in a slow uneven sway. Forced to scan around, seeing the other trainees in similar states of exhaustion. Nowhere near as beaten down. His suit laying in the center of the hold. And Para standing over him with-

    ¡°RRhmph¡±

    With his gauntlets formally hung over then unceremoniously dropped into his lap. The pain and shock sobering him up and raising his ire as little as it could go.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to pass out so easily, you¡¯re going to need to get your shit together. We¡¯ve all been through the meat grinder in one way or another.¡±

    Seth was still too exhausted to retaliate, but understood the sentiment. Who couldn¡¯t after a fieldtrip like this? He put his head back against the hull, the din of the engines turned to a soothing vibration. Letting him nod off better, until the VTOL could land back at The Hill.

    When it did though, trainees dragged themselves out like the dead. Headed more out of instinct than purpose back to the arena. No fanfare left for their competition or their accomplishment. Seth lugged his suit behind him like a ball and chain, metal scraping against tiled floor in screeching increments as everyone else trudged and swayed. Aegis met them in the arena with that stupid sphere back in place, congratulatory smile melting away as they shambled in. Ohm, being the winner of this contest, moved up to it with a shaky stance powering through whatever now ailed all of them.

    Before passing out himself.

    ¡°What the hell kind of mountain did you make them climb Para!?¡±

    He didn¡¯t answer, he just walked over to Ohm and hoisted him over his shoulder.

    ¡°You¡¯re all dismissed. We¡¯ll do this tomorrow¡­ And you all did well today.¡±

    The trainees that could actually comprehend that they were just complimented by fucking Parasonic were agape. They just couldn¡¯t voice their surprise. They all just funneled out again to their rooms, Para hauling Ohm to his.

    Seth made it into his room just barely conscious, leaving the suit by the door and stumbling into the shower. Without bothering to take his training clothes off. He turned the hot knob, crumpled onto the tiles as the water showered over him. Black dust washed off into the drain like dried blood as he curled up with his head in his knees.

    He thought he¡¯d been done with that hell, with these memories. He thought he¡¯d made progress and left them in the past. But they were always there. Hidden in the dark corners of his mind. Like that abyss. They¡¯d faded away with time but always found some stupid placard or commercial or passing bus ad to clasp on to and be dragged up with. And now his mind refused to just leave them be, just let them fall back away. Flashing the blood and screams and eyes again and again with no mercy.

    He stayed there, scalding water washing over him to get the dust off. Too tired to eat and too hollow to move. Regretting ever making that promise to himself. To atone for all of this. Till his own tears gave away and the drift won out. Falling asleep then and there on the tiled floor as everything washed away.

    As memories became dreams that he would never know.