I learned two things on Tuesday morning.
First, Benny could sleep through a fire alarm.
Second, Frank could not.
The alarm started halfway through Monster Studies.
One second, Professor Renn was explaining the difference between territorial aggression and predatory aggression.
The next, red lights flashed across the ceiling.
A mechanical voice filled the classroom.
“TRAINING ALERT.
TRAINING ALERT.
SOUTH ACADEMIC WING.
RESPONSE GROUPS THREE THROUGH SIX REPORT TO ASSIGNED SHELTER ZONES.” Frank was standing before the announcement finished.
His chair hit the floor behind him.
His skin had already started turning silver.
Professor Renn didn’t even look impressed.
“Sit down.” Frank blinked.
“What?” “Sit.” “But the alarm—” “Is a training alert.” Frank looked toward the flashing red lights.
Then slowly picked up his chair.
Benny was still asleep beside me.
I nudged him.
Nothing.
I nudged harder.
He made a noise.
“Benny.” “Five minutes.” “The building is evacuating.” “Tell them I’ll catch up.” I stared at him.
Across the aisle, Threya had both hands over her mouth.
“Don’t encourage him.” “I’m not.” “You look like you’re about to laugh.” “I’m grieving.” Professor Renn clapped once.
“Move.” That worked.
Benny woke up so violently he nearly fell out of his chair.
“What happened?” “Apocalypse,” I said.
His eyes widened.
Threya broke.
I barely made it into the hallway before Benny realized I’d lied.
“You suck.” “You were sleeping.” “I was listening.” “With your eyes closed?” “Advanced technique.” We joined the flow of students moving through the corridor.
Nobody ran.
That was rule one.
Running caused bottlenecks.
Rule two was don’t use abilities unless instructed.
Rule three was apparently don’t let Paul stand near emergency equipment, because an instructor physically redirected him away from a fire suppression panel.
“I wasn’t doing anything.” “You were looking at it.” “I look at things.” “Look somewhere else.” Paul looked offended.
I understood.
The ten of us reached Shelter Zone Four in two minutes and nineteen seconds.
According to Professor Renn, that was terrible.
“Two minutes and nineteen seconds,” he repeated.
Frank folded his arms.
“That’s under the target.” “The target assumes the corridor is partially obstructed.” “It wasn’t.” “Exactly.” Frank frowned.
Professor Renn looked around the shelter.
There were maybe forty students packed inside.
Reinforced walls.
Emergency medical cabinet.
Independent air supply.
Core-dampening panels.
A display near the entrance showed the academy map.
Several sections were red.
“Today’s exercise isn’t evacuation,” Renn said.
A collective groan moved through the room.
He ignored it.
“The evacuation was how I got you here.” Benny whispered, “Kidnapping.” I elbowed him.
Renn tapped the display.
The map changed.
SCENARIO ONE CLASS II PREDATOR LOCATION: SCHOOL ATHLETIC FIELD CIVILIANS PRESENT: 31 LICENSED HERO RESPONSE: 4 MINUTES A creature appeared beside the map.
Long body.
Four legs.
A narrow head covered in black quills.
I recognized it.
Needleback.
Renn looked at us.
“You’re outside when it appears.
What do you do?” Frank raised his hand.
“Engage.” “No.” Frank’s hand stayed up.
“You didn’t let me explain.” “You said enough.” A few people laughed.
Frank didn’t.
“Why not?” Renn folded his arms.
“You’re fourteen.” “We have abilities.” “So does it.” Frank leaned forward.
“Thirty-one civilians.” “Correct.” “So somebody has to stop it.” “Correct.” “Then—” “Evacuate.” Frank stopped.
Renn pointed at the screen.
“Needlebacks are pursuit predators.
What triggers pursuit?” Nobody answered.
I knew this one.
“Fast movement.” Renn looked at me.
“Correct.” He changed the scenario.
Several arrows appeared across the athletic field.
“Thirty-one civilians.
Some will panic.
Some will run.
Your job is not to prove you can defeat the monster.
Your job is to stop thirty-one people from becoming thirty-one moving targets.” Threya raised her hand.
“Barriers?” “Good.” She looked at the map.
“Raise earth between the Needleback and civilians.
Block line of sight.
Funnel people toward the west entrance.” “Better.” Toma spoke next.
“Ice the eastern approach.” Renn shook his head.
“People are running through it.” Toma frowned.
“Right.” “Your ability isn’t automatically useful because you have one.” Toma nodded.
No argument.
Renn pointed at Kenya.
“Ms.
Adebayo.” “Summon something loud on the opposite side of the field.” “Why?” “Redirect its attention.” “Risk?” “It might attack the summon.” “Is that a risk?” Kenya hesitated.
Her summons weren’t normal animals.
They could be damaged.
She could feel some of it.
“To me.” “Good.
Now you’re thinking.” He pointed at Benny.
Benny looked behind himself.
“Me?” “Yes.” “Metal.” “Astounding.” Benny ignored the sarcasm.
“Bleachers.” “Explain.” “Pull sections loose.
Make a barrier.” “Thirty-one civilians are beside the bleachers.” “Oh.” “Congratulations.
You’ve killed six.” “Can we stop announcing my casualties?” “When you stop causing them.” Threya laughed.
Benny looked at me.
“Your turn.” Renn apparently agreed.
“Mr.
Kita.” There it was.
The moment everyone always enjoyed.
A scenario built around abilities.
Then me.
“What do you do?” I looked at the map.
Needleback.
Athletic field.
Thirty-one civilians.
Four minutes.
“I’d pull the fire alarm.” Silence.
Renn’s eyebrows lifted.
Benny whispered, “What?” I pointed toward the athletic building on the western side.
“That building has exterior emergency alarms.” “Yes.” “Needlebacks have sensitive hearing.” Renn didn’t respond.
“So I activate the alarm on the opposite side from the civilians.” “And if it investigates?” “People leave through the west maintenance gate.” “The alarm is near that gate.” I looked closer.
He was right.
“Then not that one.” Benny snorted.
I ignored him.
There were three emergency stations.
North.
West.
South.
The Needleback had appeared from the east.
“South alarm.” Renn nodded slightly.
“And?” “And I don’t stay there.” That got a laugh.
Renn didn’t smile.
“Good.” He tapped the screen.
SCENARIO TWO The map changed.
A road.
A bus on its side.
Two damaged cars.
CLASS III BREAKER CIVILIANS TRAPPED: UNKNOWN ABILITY USE AUTHORIZED Paul sat forward.
Finally.
The creature appeared.
Thick torso.
Long arms.
Bone plating over its face.
I didn’t recognize the species.
“Mr.
Reeve.” Paul grinned.
“Explode it.” “No.” His grin vanished.
“What?” “Try again.” “It’s a Breaker.” “Correct.” “So explosions.” “You’re standing beside a crashed bus.” “I can control the direction.” “Can you control debris?” Paul hesitated.
Renn pointed at the damaged road.
“Fuel?” “No.” “Glass?” “No.” “Structural integrity of the bus?” “No.” “Number of civilians inside?” “No.” “Then perhaps detonating something beside them should not be your opening move.” Paul sank slightly into his chair.
Renn wasn’t humiliating him.
That was the strange part.
His voice never changed.
No mocking.
No frustration.
He simply kept removing assumptions until the answer wasn’t obvious anymore.
Emi noticed it too.
She leaned forward.
“Can we draw it away?” Renn looked at her.
“How?” “One person engages from range.” “Who?” “Montiro.” Montiro pointed at himself proudly.
Renn nodded.
“Reasonable.” Montiro looked surprised.
“Wait, really?” “Don’t ruin it.” He closed his mouth.
Emi continued.
“Draw its attention down the road.
Someone else checks the bus.” “Who?” She looked around.
Her eyes landed on me.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Akio.” “Why?” “No ability.” That hurt slightly.
She continued before I could say anything.
“He doesn’t need to maintain combat distance or ability concentration.
He can assess injuries.” Renn looked at me.
“Can you?” “Basic first aid.” “Basic.” “Better than Benny.” “Why am I catching strays?” Renn ignored him.
“What happens if the monster ignores Montiro?” Emi’s answer came immediately.
“We adapt.” “How?” She stopped.
That was the point.
Renn looked around the room.
“You’re all obsessed with answers.” He turned off the display.
The shelter dimmed.
“Fire beats this.
Ice stops that.
Steel protects against this.
Earth counters that.
Your entrance exams rewarded correct answers.
Your rankings reward measurable answers.
Your abilities encourage you to believe you possess an answer other people don’t.” He pointed toward the blank display.
“Field work doesn’t care.” Nobody moved.
“Sometimes the correct response to a monster is killing it.
Sometimes it’s containment.
Sometimes evacuation.
Sometimes observation.
Sometimes you leave it alone.” His eyes moved across the students.
“Your ability is a tool.” Then: “It is not permission.” I remembered the stonegrazer.
Frank stepping forward.
Threya reaching toward the ground.
Kenya’s fox disappearing.
Something in the forest none of us understood.
I wrote that sentence down.
At lunch, Frank took my notebook.
I looked up.
“Give that back.” He held it above his head.
This was particularly effective because Frank was built like a refrigerator and I wasn’t.
“What’d you write?” “None of your business.” He opened it.
I stood.
“Frank.” “‘Your ability is a tool.
It is not permission.'” He looked at me.
“You take notes like an old man.” “Give it back.” Benny reached for it.
Frank moved it away.
“Wait, what’s this?” I knew exactly what he was looking at.
“No.” He read it anyway.
“‘Needleback: pursuit triggered by rapid movement.
Black quills lift before charge.
Possible exposed seam beneath—'” I grabbed for the notebook.
Frank lifted it higher.
“Why do you write this stuff?” “Because it’s class.” “Renn didn’t say the seam thing.” “I saw it in the diagram.” Frank looked at the page.
Then at me.
“You write down monster weak points?” “Sometimes.” “Why?” “Because they’re weak points.” Benny nodded.
“Compelling.” I kicked his chair.
Frank finally handed the notebook back.
“You planning to punch one?” “No.” “Then what are you going to do if you actually see one?” “Probably run.” He smiled.
“Smart.” “Thank you.” “I’d fight it.” “Less smart.” “Depends who wins.” Emi sat across from us.
“No.
It doesn’t.” Frank sighed.
“Here we go.” “You keep treating survival as proof of good decision-making.” “It usually is.” “That is objectively false.” “How?” “You survived jumping from the second-floor gym balcony.” “I landed.” “You fractured your ankle.” “Still landed.” Emi looked at me.
“Why am I friends with him?” “I’ve been asking myself that about all of you.” Threya arrived and sat beside me.
She immediately took one of my fries.
I watched it happen.
She ate it.
“You didn’t even pretend this time.” “We’re growing as a couple.” “You’re growing because you eat all my food.” She reached for another.
I slapped her hand.
She looked offended.
“Abuse.” “Survival.” Benny leaned over.
“Can I have one?” “No.” He took one.
I stared at the table.
Nine awakened people.
Not one ability being used.
Just hands stealing my lunch.
Maybe Professor Renn was right.
Abilities weren’t always the answer.
Sometimes violence was.
Our afternoon practical was worse.
Professor Renn and Professor Lorne combined classes and divided us into teams of five.
Naturally, they separated our group.
I ended up with Threya, Emi, Paul, and a boy from another class named Lucas.
Benny acted like we’d been deployed to different continents.
“Remember me.” “I’ll try not to.” “If I don’t make it—” “You’re going to Training Hall Two.” “Tell my mother I—” Frank dragged him away.
Our scenario waited inside Training Hall Five.
The room had been transformed.
Artificial walls created a narrow street.
A damaged vehicle blocked one end.
Smoke drifted from vents near the ceiling.
Training mannequins were scattered around the street.
One was trapped beneath a concrete slab.
Another lay near the vehicle.
A third sat against a wall.
At the far end stood a training construct shaped vaguely like a monster.
Six feet tall.
Four arms.
Thick padded body.
Red lights where its eyes should’ve been.
Professor Lorne stood above us on the observation platform.
“Objective?” Emi looked at the screen beside the entrance.
RESCUE ALL CIVILIANS EXIT THROUGH DESIGNATED EVACUATION POINT TIME LIMIT: 8:00 Paul cracked his knuckles.
“Easy.” The timer started.
The construct moved.
Paul raised one hand.
“Wait,” I said.
He stopped.
“What?” “Rescue all civilians.” “Yeah.” “So don’t fight it.” The construct charged.
“Great plan!” Threya slammed both palms down.
The floor rose.
A waist-high wall formed between us and the construct.
It hit the wall.
Cracks spread through the stone.
“That won’t hold,” she said.
“It doesn’t need to.” Emi was already moving.
“Lucas, vehicle.
Paul, mannequin by the wall.
Akio, with me.” Nobody argued.
That helped.
We ran.
Emi reached the concrete slab first.
She tried lifting it.
Didn’t move.
“Threya!” “Busy!” The construct hit the wall again.
A chunk broke loose.
Threya reinforced it.
I crouched beside the trapped mannequin.
The slab covered both legs.
Fake blood marked the floor.
There was a red symbol on the mannequin’s chest.
I remembered the instructions from previous drills.
Red meant unstable injury.
Moving it incorrectly counted as a casualty.
“Don’t lift straight up.” Emi looked at me.
“Why?” “Pressure.” “What?” “If the legs are crushed, removing everything at once can make bleeding worse.” “This is a mannequin.” “The grading system won’t care.” She looked toward the observation platform.
Professor Lorne was watching.
Emi cursed quietly.
“Then what?” “Stabilize it first.” “With what?” I looked around.
Broken sign.
Metal support.
Debris.
My eyes stopped on the damaged vehicle.
“Jack.” Emi understood immediately.
She ran.
The construct broke through Threya’s wall.
“Problem!” Threya shouted.
Paul stepped forward.
“Now?” “No explosions!” Emi shouted.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” The construct charged.
Paul dodged.
Barely.
One padded arm caught his shoulder and spun him around.
“Ow!” “You’re dead,” Threya said.
“I’m not dead!” A buzzer sounded.
TEAM MEMBER INJURED Paul stared upward.
“Oh, come on!” “Stop fighting it!” “It’s fighting me!” “Then leave!” “Great advice!” I ran to the vehicle.
Emi had the jack.
Lucas was trying to pull the mannequin near the driver’s side.
“Stop.” He froze.
“What now?” “Check it.” “For what?” I crouched.
Blue symbol.
Mobile.
“That one’s fine.” Lucas dragged it toward the exit.
Emi and I returned to the slab.
The construct turned toward us.
Threya raised another wall.
Instead of blocking it completely, she angled the stone.
The construct hit it.
Its own momentum redirected it sideways.
Straight into Paul.
“THREYA!” “Sorry!” Another buzzer.
TEAM MEMBER INJURED “Again?!” I laughed.
Couldn’t help it.
Paul looked betrayed.
“You’re enjoying this!” “A little.” Emi shoved the jack beneath the slab.
“Focus.” Right.
We lifted enough to create space.
Not all the way.
Emi stabilized the mannequin while I pulled the training tourniquet from the emergency kit.
“Where’d you learn that?” she asked.
“First aid elective.” “You take first aid?” “You take lance theory.” “That’s useful.” “So is this.” She didn’t argue.
We freed the mannequin.
Six minutes left.
One civilian remaining.
The one sitting against the wall.
Threya was breathing hard now.
Every barrier cost her.
The construct hadn’t slowed.
Paul had finally stopped trying to attack it.
Progress.
“Exit’s behind it,” Lucas said.
He was right.
The designated evacuation point sat at the far end of the street.
The construct was between us and it.
Emi looked at me.
“Now we fight it.” I almost agreed.
Technically, she was right.
We needed past it.
Then I looked at the room.
Artificial street.
Walls.
Damaged vehicle.
Smoke.
The construct turned whenever one of us moved.
Always toward the closest target.
I looked at Paul.
“How small can you make one?” He frowned.
“One what?” “Explosion.” Everyone stared at me.
Paul’s face lit up.
“I knew you liked me.” “Answer.” “Small.” “Can you put it exactly where you want?” His smile faded.
“Usually.” “Usually isn’t good.” “Yes.” “Can you hit that?” I pointed toward a metal trash container on the opposite side of the street.
“Obviously.” “Do it.” Emi understood first.
“Noise.” I nodded.
Paul formed a tiny orange orb.
It floated above his palm.
For once, he didn’t make it bigger.
He flicked it.
The orb crossed the street.
Hit the container.
Pop.
The sound wasn’t huge.
Didn’t need to be.
The construct’s head snapped toward it.
Then its entire body turned.
“Move.” We did.
Threya and Lucas carried the final mannequin.
Emi took the injured one.
I grabbed the other.
Paul ran ahead.
The construct realized what had happened.
It turned back.
Too late.
We crossed the evacuation line.
The timer stopped.
06:47 Silence.
Then: SCENARIO COMPLETE Paul threw both arms into the air.
“I SAVED EVERYONE.” “You died twice,” Threya said.
“Minor detail.” “You’re the only casualty.” “Heroic sacrifice.” “The same monster hit you twice.” “I was protecting you.” “The second time was my fault.” Paul paused.
“Then I forgive you.” Professor Lorne’s voice came through the speakers.
“Mr.
Reeve.” He looked up.
“Yes?” “Your team lost seventeen points because you ignored instructions and engaged unnecessarily.” His shoulders dropped.
“But.” He straightened.
“Your final ability use was appropriate, controlled, and solved the problem without additional risk.” Paul looked ridiculously proud.
“Thank you.” “You’re still dead.” His pride disappeared.
We laughed.
Then Lorne said something I wasn’t expecting.
“Mr.
Kita.” I looked up.
“You assumed coordination without authority.” I frowned.
“Is that bad?” “It can be.” “Oh.” “You also identified the actual objective faster than your teammates.” Emi crossed her arms.
“I identified it.” “You attempted to fight the construct.” “Eventually.” “Exactly.” Emi looked annoyed.
Lorne continued.
“Mr.
Kita, you have a habit of watching before acting.” I wasn’t sure whether that was praise.
“Today it helped.” There it was.
“Don’t assume it always will.” And there was the rest.
“Understood.” The training hall reset around us.
Walls lowered.
Smoke stopped.
The construct returned to its starting position.
Threya bumped my shoulder.
“Look at you.” “What?” “Useful.” “Wasn’t aware that was in question.” Paul joined us.
“I think we learned something important.” “That you die easily?” Emi asked.
“No.” He pointed at me.
“Akio secretly loves explosions.” “I absolutely do not.” “You specifically requested one.” “Small one.” “Gateway explosion.” “That’s not a thing.” “It is now.” After training, I found Frank sitting outside the gym.
Alone.
That was unusual enough that I stopped.
“You okay?” He looked up.
“Yeah.” I waited.
He sighed.
“No.” I sat beside him.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Students crossed the courtyard ahead of us.
Some headed toward dorms.
Others toward the transit station.
The afternoon sun reflected off Emory’s glass towers.
“What happened?” I asked.
Frank rubbed his hands together.
“Our scenario had a collapsed ceiling.” “And?” “I held it.” That sounded like him.
“Okay.” “We failed.” I looked at him.
“How?” “Because I held it.” I didn’t understand.
Frank stared across the courtyard.
“There were support braces.” “Oh.” “Emi’s group would’ve noticed.” “Probably.” “Beth definitely would’ve.” “Definitely.” He smiled slightly.
Then it disappeared.
“I just saw it falling.” His hands tightened.
“So I went under it.” I didn’t say anything.
“Everybody got the civilians out.
But the scenario said the building collapsed after because I didn’t reinforce the actual structure.
I was just standing there holding everything.” “Still got the civilians out.” “Yeah.” “Then that’s not nothing.” “No.” He looked at his hands.
“But Renn asked what happens when I can’t stand there anymore.” That sounded like Renn.
“What’d you say?” “Nothing.” I leaned back.
Frank had always seemed simple from the outside.
Not stupid.
Simple.
Problem appeared.
Frank hit it.
Something fell.
Frank caught it.
Someone needed protection.
Frank turned into steel.
It worked often enough that people stopped asking whether there was another answer.
Including Frank.
“You’ll figure it out,” I said.
He glanced at me.
“That’s what people tell you.” I laughed once.
“Yeah.” “Annoying, isn’t it?” “Extremely.” He nodded.
“Then I take it back.” “Thanks.” Silence again.
Then Frank looked at me.
“What would you do?” “If the ceiling was falling?” “Yeah.” “Run.” He stared at me.
“What?” “I don’t have steel skin.” Frank started laughing.
I smiled.
“No, seriously,” he said.
“So am I.” “Asshole.” “Ask better questions.” He shoved my shoulder.
Not hard.
For Frank.
I still nearly fell off the bench.
He caught my jacket before I did.
“See?” I said.
“Everything’s a strength problem with you.” “Shut up.” Threya was waiting by the front gate.
I knew she was waiting for me because her bus stop was in the opposite direction.
“You stalking me?” “Yes.” “Good to know.” She fell into step beside me.
For once, she didn’t steal anything.
No food in my hands.
Probably the reason.
“Frank okay?” I looked at her.
“You saw?” “You sat with him.” “He’s fine.” She nodded.
We walked.
My grounding meant I was supposed to go directly home.
Threya apparently intended to escort me.
Or make sure I didn’t.
Hard to tell.
“You’re good at that,” she said.
“At what?” “Today.” “Getting Paul killed?” “That too.” She kicked a pebble.
“Seeing what people should do.” “I don’t.” “You did.” “Once.” “At the reserve too.” “I knew something from class.” “And with the Glassbacks.” “Also class.” “And Emi.” I looked at her.
“What about Emi?” “You figured out her shoulder thing.” “She has a tell.” “Exactly.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“You’re making it sound more impressive than it is.” “Maybe.” “Thanks.” She smiled.
“You’re welcome.” We reached an intersection.
The pedestrian light was red.
We stopped.
Across the street, a billboard showed a hero advertisement.
Some guy in silver armor holding an energy drink.
Threya stared at it.
“You’d look terrible on one of those.” “Why am I on a billboard?” “Famous hero.” “I’m not becoming a famous hero.” “You don’t know that.” “No power.” “You don’t need a power to become famous.” “Great.
I’ll commit a major crime.” “Already started.” “Feeding protected wildlife won’t get me a billboard.” “Depends how much wildlife.” The light changed.
We crossed.
Halfway over, Threya said, “I mean it.” I looked at her.
She wasn’t smiling anymore.
“You don’t have to do what we do.” There was no pity in her voice.
That made it harder to dismiss.
“You, Benny, everyone keeps saying I’ll awaken.” “You might.” “And if I don’t?” She shrugged.
“Then don’t.” I slowed.
She took two more steps before noticing.
“What?” I stared at her.
“That’s it?” “What else am I supposed to say?” “I don’t know.” She walked backward in front of me.
“Don’t awaken.” “Very inspirational.” “Become a doctor.” “I hate blood.” “Teacher.” “I hate students.” “You’re a student.” “Exactly.
I know what they’re like.” “Monster researcher.” “I like being alive.” “Professional dried-fruit criminal.” “Finally, a realistic option.” She smiled.
Then softened.
“You’re still you.” Something in my chest went strangely quiet.
I looked away.
A car passed through the intersection.
“You practiced that.” “What?” “That line.” “No.” “Sounded practiced.” “It wasn’t.” “Little dramatic.” “Take it back.” “Too late.” She punched my arm.
I deserved that one.
Probably.
We kept walking.
At the next corner, she turned toward her street.
I kept going straight.
“Akio.” I looked back.
She was standing beneath a shelter sign.
“Yeah?” “You know what your problem is?” “Which one?” “You think everyone else is waiting for you to become something.” I didn’t answer.
She smiled.
“Some of us already like you.” Then she turned and walked away.
I stood there longer than I should have.
Eventually my phone vibrated.
Benny.
BENNY: where r u I typed back.
ME: going home Three dots.
BENNY: wanna come over ME: grounded BENNY: sneak out I stared at the message.
Then toward the road Threya had disappeared down.
Then at the shelter sign.
Then back at Benny’s message.
ME: absolutely not He replied immediately.
BENNY: coward I smiled.
ME: alive coward I put my phone away and headed home.
At fourteen, I spent a lot of time thinking about the things I couldn’t do.
I couldn’t manipulate metal.
Couldn’t raise stone.
Couldn’t freeze a room.
Couldn’t turn my skin to steel.
Couldn’t summon spirits, invade thoughts, manifest weapons, or create explosions.
I couldn’t do any of the things that made Emory students special.
So I started paying attention to the things I could do.
Watch.
Remember.
Notice.
Think.
It didn’t feel like much.
Not then.