A hundred students stood in the empty field, dressed in formfitting M.A.G.E black. The instructor was the clipboard man from the entrance practicum. Though he would rather be called Tobias Quachiri.

“Or Mazeltov, if you like cape names,” Tobias said.

“What’s your gift?” A student asked.

Tobias pointed down the field. Different targets had been placed at varying ranges. He whistled. The sound was sharp, shrill, and escalated until many of the students had to cover their ears. A single glass bottle shattered between several untouched ones.

“I can expose rigid structures to resonant frequencies,” Tobias said.

“And soft structures too,” Another student said, slowing uncovering his ears. “I think that gave me tinnitus.”

“Alright shut the hell up,” Tobias said. “My class is probably the most important one here.”

“They all say that,” someone whispered.

“What do you think happens when you misapply your gift? Anyone? People get hurt. Even worse, people die. Worst case? Property damage. That was a joke. Point is most gifted don’t come into their power with complete control. In fact, many gifts require stimulus in order to work-!” Penny lightly elbowed Lyssa in the ribs. “-so don’t worry if you can’t juggle your gift like a cirque performer.”

One by one they were set aside to experiment with their abilities. The elements flew. Superpowered movements kicked up tufts of grass as speedsters ran faster than a supercar. The field rang with the sounds of gifts, set to the ticking of the instructor’s pen on his clipboard as he walked from student to student.

He stopped in front of Lyssa.

“I think I recognize you,” he said. “Why are you not using your gift?”

“Uhm, it’s hard to unless I need to use it,” Lyssa said.

“Hm, odd.”

“What is, sir?”

“You seem like a completely different person up close than on camera. There’s talk about you floating around.”

“All good I hope,” she joked awkwardly.

“Do the fire one.”

“Uhm.” She tried. Nothing. Not even a spark. She sighed. “I can’t.”

“You’re just going to give up.”

“No. I just- I don’t have a method to call upon it.”

Tobias crossed his arms. He was a tall man, made fit from hero duty, his face shadowed from lackadaisical grooming; upon closer inspection he was more drill sergeant than instructor. Lyssa had to restrain herself from shrinking away.

“There’s always a place,” he said. “Somewhere we go to draw strength. But you know that.”

“I…”

“You simply don’t like going there. It takes more than cartoons and dreams to be a hero, girl.”

“Sorry.”

Nearby students had stopped practicing to look in their direction. There was fidgeting and whispering.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He asked. “Imagine if Victory did that when the meteor came d-” He took a casual step backwards.

“Sorry for disappointing,” Lyssa said. “Maybe I-”

“Stomp that out,” Tobias said. He scribbled something on his clipboard and began to walk away. “And remember where you had to go to get there.”

Lyssa looked down. Flames ate at the grass by her feet. She quickly put it out from under her soles. Her uniform had not been touched.

“If you haven’t noticed,” Tobias said loudly to the whole class, “you are wearing Fibrous Adaptive Smart Ester suits. They can handle some punishment and won’t impede your abilities. Over the next few weeks, there will be more practicums. We’ll get a gauge for what you can do and develop gear particular to your skillset.”

Lyssa was too focused on keeping it together to listen. She had felt herself slip right there, ever so slightly. She imagined tearing the instructor apart, ripping through him with flaming claws as though it was second nature. She was afraid. All while her voice grew stronger. Sethlana’s.

“Lyssa.” Someone was speaking to her. It drew her back to the surface, where she came face to face with a classmate; a woman with short, colorful hair that always seemed to be caught in a slow breeze.

“Hi,” Lyssa said.

“I’m Lian Tenant. I think I can help you.”

“Why?”

Lian smiled. “Your first thought is why? Not how? What kind of life have you led? We’re not just classmates. We may have to depend on each other in the future.”

“Right, right, of course. How can you help me?”

“I can’t help but feel people’s thoughts, even when I explicitly try not to read them. You have, for the lack of a better word, demons within you. Meet me in the gardens after our classes. There’s something I think we can try.”

Demons. The word did not feel comfortable lodged in Lyssa’s ears. But she could not find a better one.

For the rest of the class, the students practiced their aim on the targets. Those whose gifts enhanced their bodies were made to pull giant boulders or run alongside small caliber bullets. None of the speedsters could outpace a bullet. As Lyssa understood it, speedsters were rare. High category ones were like five leafed clovers.

“Don’t be discouraged,” Tobias said to the runners lying on the track, exhausted. “There is leeway within categories. Train and you will discover how much faster you could go.”

She spent the rest of the class trying to remember how she felt when she accessed those gifts she had used in the practicum. It was a not a pleasant experience. Emotion as a crutch hurt to use. She had to remember the worst parts of her past to draw upon her anger, and return to the most painful moments to draw on her loneliness. Was that her gift? Emotion in exchange for power?

The last thing a hero would need when a villain attacks was emotion. Criminals wouldn’t wait for a hero to go to their special place. To depend on emotion for power was unreliable at best, dangerous at worst. What happened if she made a mistake? ‘I just felt so angry,’ wasn’t going to fly in court.

She took a break removed from the rest of the class, alone in the shade of the trees. A classmate joined her. She recognized him.

“You’re that guy from the test,” she said. “Johnny, was it?”

“That’s me.”

“What was your gift?”

“Depends,” he said. “What is yours?”

“Pardon?”

“I borrow gifts,” he said. “If I touch someone’s bare skin, my cells can memorize their genetic configuration. But I can only hold one gift at a time in my memory. I got nothing useful from you when I shook hands with you at the practicum. How did you pass the test?”

“In a way, I didn’t,” Lyssa said simply.

“Okay…”

“What?”

“People tend to dislike me. They say my gift is creepy. You don’t seem to care. That’s a first.”

“I’d rather have that ability than whatever it is I have. My life would have been simpler.”

And way shorter.

---

At the end of the day Lyssa found Lian waiting by the foot of the flowering trees. Red, pink, and blue blossoms shed their petals into the fall wind. Lian looked up from a textbook she was reading.

“Right on time,” she said.

“No, I made you wait,” Lyssa said. “Sorry.”

“I was only here for a couple minutes. Come sit down.”

Lyssa sat opposite to her, legs crossed.

“So, what are your abilities, exactly?” Lyssa asked.

“I’m a cat-3 to 4 psychic.”

“You can be two tiers at once?”

“It’s one hybrid gift. My telekinetic side is cat-3, my telepath side is cat-4. You’re surprisingly uninformed about gifts despite having two completely different ones.”

Lyssa tensed. Her fingers curled together. “How did you know?”

“I watched the testing footage. The announcer noticed you. Two, huh? It’s quite rare.”

“Alright, what are you going to do to help me?”

“These demons in you are somehow connected to your gifts. With your permission, I’d like to be in your head, so I can see what’s going on. Maybe sort things out.”

“Um…”

“It’ll be fine, I’ve done this before for a friend. I won’t touch any memories. You’d feel it if I do.”

“Okay.” Lyssa took a deep breath. “Do it.”

Lian blinked.

The psychic stood in a windless meadow. Tall, yellow grass made frozen still curls along the earth. The sky was overcast.

“Lyssa?” She asked. She looked around. “Lyssa, where are you?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Lian turned around, face to face with Lyssa in a grey dress. The strange version of her classmate raised a finger against her lips. Her metal rings glinted in the light.

“Talk quietly, if you must talk at all,” the grey-dressed Lyssa said.

“I’m here to understand what is holding you back,” Lian said with a lowered, metaphorical voice.

“Me?” Lyssa said. “Nothing. It’s her you have to worry about. The Primum.”

“Why are you talking like that? I’m here to help.”

“Don’t sympathize,” Lyssa said. “She doesn’t like that.”

“What? Who?”

The sky was darkening, bubbling as the grey froth darkened until it was as black as pitch. But there was no weather showmanship, no thunder or lightning. Just its descent. What else to call it? A shadow? A presence. A thing that which was not solid, yet weighed more than lead. Just beholding it made Lian want to gouge out her eyes. She nearly fled this mental space, but grey Lyssa grabbed her shoulder, stopping her.

“The apple tree,” Lyssa said. “She can’t see us under there.” She pulled Lian to the only tree in the meadow. The branches were naked. It shouldn’t be able to hide anything. But as the shadow swung its endless body from side to side, its hollow eyes swept past them as though they did not exist.

Then it was gone. The overcast returned and the pitch black lifted.

“We should be fine now,” Lyssa said. “So long as you don’t verbalize the desire to help.”

Lian had to set a moment aside for deep breaths. Metaphorical sweat dripped down her brow.

“Lyssa, what was that? What are you?” She asked.

“I’m not Lyssa. I’m Izanami. Though in many ways there is no difference.” Izanami pointed at the sky. “That was Bildungsroman.”

“That’s a part of her?” Lian asked incredulously. “That was a psychic presence. A telepath’s projection. It’s at least cat-5! I could have been crushed! I felt it want to tear my mind apart!”

“Thank you for trying to help us,” Izanami said. “But it’s best for Lyssa, and you, if you leave us alone. I’d like to be alone as well.”

Blossoms. Red. Pink. Blue. Real air. Wind. People were talking. An afternoon sun shot slanted beams through the gaps of the branches. Lian’s eyes snapped open. She began to hyperventilate.

“Lian?” Lyssa asked. “What happened? What did you see?”

“You’re not kidding?” Lian exclaimed.

“About what?” Lyssa said. “What are you talking about?”

Lian stood to her feet. Her breaths wild and unsteady.

“We need to do this again,” the psychic said.

“What?”

“Every. Day. After classes. How the hell did you make it past the shrink?”

“Please explain what happened. What did you see?”

“I need time to process.” Lian was already picking up her things. “Tomorrow. Here. Same time.”

Lyssa was left alone under the shade of the blossoming tree, bewildered, lost, but most of all, afraid.