While I knew the grounds of AA pretty damn well, the innards of the massive gym complex were as much a mystery to me as they were to any other first-time visitor. Windowless white corridors wound through the building in unintuitive ways. Another product of piss poor planning, I’d bet.

Luckily, the school had anticipated the problem.

People thronged the halls, but there was no one stopping to gawp at their surroundings, hopelessly lost. No delays. No one scratched their heads as they turned a map this way and that, as if looking at it from a different angle would help them find their way. Instead, all they had to do was follow whichever painted line they were assigned to, and navigating to their destination was simplicity itself.

Corresponding to the colour of the barcode stamped on my left wrist, I followed the orange line. It led me on a route I never would have guessed at on my own, and merely five minutes later I approached a door flanked by a group of friendly staff sporting the iconic black and gold shirt-and-trouser combo that was the Aegis Academy uniform, complete with the golden thunderbolt on the chest.

They scanned the stamp on my wrist with a grin and a boisterous ‘good luck’, and then I was through into the corridor beyond.

Tension permeated the hallway. Teenage examinees lined the wall on one side, no one daring to speak a word. Shoulders were hunched, hackles were raised, expressions were strained where they weren’t outright hostile.

Only one person looked relaxed, leaning up against the wall with crossed arms and head lolled back, and I found that I knew her. Her suit was still impeccable, somehow avoiding even the slightest bit of damage despite having been used to hold down Slash’s other arm. Her make-up was perfectly contoured. Not a hair out of place on her head. It was almost impressive how put together she looked, given everything.

Judging by the wide-eyed look I got on my entrance, the recognition was mutual. After a moment of regarding me with a curious expression, head tilted to one side, the girl shrugged, vacated her spot in the line, and made to approach.

“You’re the guy from the train, right?” she asked as she neared. Her voice seemed impossibly loud in the silent room, and I was painfully conscious of the attention pointed our way. She seemed unaffected, though, casually offering me her hand. “Julia Ramirez.”

I held back a sigh as I shook it. “Emmett Shaw. The USHA guys brought you here too?”

“Yes. They said it was a reward for doing a good deed. I was under the impression that vigilantism was frowned upon and I was in for a scolding, but I suppose there’s more to things than that.”

“Results matter, apparently,” I said with a shrug. “Enough that Ashika only got off with a light reprimand for kicking a villain when he was down.” I winced, then decided against continuing that line of discussion with so many ears listening in. “Good work back there, by the way. Grabbing the villain’s other hand, I mean.”

“I was only following your lead. That was smart of you. And brave. I had no idea something like that could work, and even if I had, I might not have tried it. How did you know?”

Now I was fighting with all I had not to do something awkward like rub the back of my head. I wasn’t used to compliments.

“I read up on this stuff a lot. I knew there was a visual component to his power by his glowing eyes. Visual phenomena like that are dead giveaways.”

Julia gave a low hum. “Interesting. If that comes up on the test, I’ll have to thank you.”

“No need for that,” I said, then stopped to think about it. “Well, if you do end up feeling like you owe me, I wouldn’t complain about some backup in the practical test.”

“Me? What about that friend of yours? She seemed like a heavy hitter.”

“In a different group for the written exam. No way of knowing if we’ll be doing the practical at the same time.”

“And her help will be a given if she is?”

“Yeah. One-hundred percent.”

Julia paused for a moment, giving me a funny look. “You seem awfully sure.”

“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” I said slowly, ignoring the resentful pit in my soul that screamed Lucas’ name.

“Huh.” She looked away, frowning. “I get the feeling that won’t be very common. Thousands of people from all over the world are competing for about a hundred spots. There can’t be many alliances going on.”

My gaze strayed over the quiet corridor, taking in the tense atmosphere.

Yeah, she wasn’t wrong. There was a wide and diverse range of people in this batch of examinees alone, people from every corner of the globe visible even in a selection of maybe eighty people. Every single one of them was undoubtedly just as determined to get into AA as I was.

There’d be people in that group who’d be ruthless. A competitive nature was almost a requirement to show up here today, going hand in hand with an unshakeable self-belief. Many people would’ve contented themselves with applying for one of the dozen or so less-prestigious but still world class hero schools hosted in Foresight City, but not these guys. They wanted the best.

For that, I couldn’t deny that an every man for himself mentality was probably the dominant ethos in attendance today.

I could sympathise. I really could.

And yet.

“I can’t imagine doing it without Ashika,” I spoke the thought aloud the moment it surfaced.

Julia smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “That must be nice.”

Silence fell, heavy and awkward. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I decided to go with nothing. Sometimes that was best, in my experience.

The quiet didn’t last. A whooshing sound came from up ahead, and the wall at the end of the corridor parted. Three men stepped out, two of them staff in the AA uniform, flanking the tall man in the middle who drew all the attention.

He wore a long, dark shawl with a barely visible runic pattern sewn in for a costume, covering his body almost entirely. A cowl and cap combined to hide everything but a letterbox opening around his hard eyes. His gaze swept across the examinees as he strode into the corridor with loping steps.

It was strange to see Morphosis in costume, to be honest. Every interview he’d ever given seemed to suggest he hated the practice, and generally refused to don it aside from the rare occasions where his old team, The Sacramento Navigators, got together for a reunion. After all these years, he was more known for his long leather trench coat. People even jokingly called him Morpheus, though I was sure he hated that just as much.

“You will enter as my associate calls the number on the stamp you received at registration,” Morphosis said, his voice projecting over the corridor despite his soft tone. “This is not a matter of favouritism. The order of entry has been randomised. There is no seating arrangement, but that does not mean you will choose your seat; you will take the next available, row by row, until all places are filled. More information on the test will be provided when everyone is seated. Begin.”

Without missing a beat, one of the staff spoke. “1481927596.”

An absurdly tall boy with spiky green hair stepped out of the line and made his way toward the exam hall. Before he was halfway there, another number was called. Soon, the line was thinning out as the staff rattled off numbers in quick succession.

Only a few places ahead of me, an Asian girl with striking white eyes stopped to give me a smirk before heading off to the exam.

I blinked after her, nonplussed.

“Friends of yours?” Julia asked.

“Never seen her before in my life.”

“Really? Weird.”

My number was called only a little while after that, and I put the strange incident out of my mind.

Anticipation built in me as I walked into the exam hall, but honestly this was the part of the admissions test I wasn’t feeling too worried about. Even if I fell short on the power scale, my knowledge of everything related to powers and superheroes was, to put it as humbly as I possibly could, excellent. I’d aced practice tests so many times, it was hard not to feel confident as I entered the exam hall and took it in.

The 8x10 grid of single tables and wooden chairs was filled up about halfway at this point. I couldn’t say what this room had been used for before, but the giant mural of Athena and her acolytes covering the entire raised ceiling surely made it an interesting experience. Or maybe the Goddess of Wisdom had only been added recently to grant some kind of divine inspiration to the hopeful candidates? No idea.

I made my way to the next available chair as per Morphosis’ orders, but paused mid-step halfway there.

Now, I didn’t want to be uncharitable or come across as racist or ableist or anything, but I felt any hearing-able and English-fluent individual surely couldn’t have missed Morphosis’ instructions to fill up the seats in order. That being said, the mystery of the white-eyed Asian girl who had smirked at me—was still smirking at me—was only growing. Why she thought she could get away with placing herself right at the back of the exam hall, I had no idea.

Morphosis was known as a harsh teacher for a reason. Then again, most people didn’t find trawling through hero student forums as interesting as I. More fool them. We’d see who was the loser when I brought Lady Strange white-chocolate chip cookies and became her favourite student on day one.

I shrugged. Ultimately, whatever the girl’s deal was wasn’t my problem. Taking my seat, I settled in to wait. The chair was surprisingly ergonomic, considering how it looked. Little latches shifted and interlocked, almost moulding itself to my body as I got comfortable.

The marvels of a sky-high budget, I supposed.

It took about ten minutes for the rest of the examinees to enter the hall, and only then did Morphosis stride back into the room. He stopped at the very centre, and held up a hand. Wisps of shadow rolled out from within his sleeves, mingling together and forming a glossy ball that floated above his hand. It undulated in place for a moment, then smoothed out into a wide disk. More smoke joined it, embossing numbers around its sides, followed by three hands.

He probably could’ve just brought a clock, but I couldn’t blame him. If I had a power like his, I’d use it for dumb stuff like that, too.

The staff moved down the rows, handing out test papers and clear plastic cases filled with a selection of pens, pencils, an eraser, and a sharpener.

Morphosis spoke. “Write your name and the number on your stamp in the allotted sections. Do not open your test—”

“WAIT!”

Footsteps boomed along the corridor outside, rumbling ever closer. Seconds later, a boy who seemed almost wider than he was tall came charging into the room like a rampaging elephant. His hair was long and greasy, and his sweat-stained clothes hung off him.

An aura of disdain passed through the room like a Mexican wave.

I just felt bad for the kid.

He reddened under the attention of over a hundred people. “I’m sorry for being late, please don’t disqualify me, I—”

“Take the next seat at the back,” Morphosis said. “The doors would have been closed if you were too late to take the test.”

The boy practically ran to his seat, apologetically grabbing a test and utensil case from one of the staff along the way.

Once he was seated, Morphosis continued. “As I was saying: write your name and number in the boxes. Do not open your test until I say you can begin. Any power usage in this room from the moment your allotted time begins will result in disqualification. We are testing your knowledge at this juncture, not what answers your power can fetch you. Copying others, sabotaging others, distracting others: instant rejection. If you so much as use your power to warm your toes, you will be removed. You will not be able to sneak your power past me.”

The shadow clock ticked over to 11. Morphosis closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

“You have one hour. Your time starts now.”

I picked up my pen and opened the paper. The first question brought a smile to my face, and by the time I’d finished leafing through the test to gauge how long I should spend on each answer, I was outright grinning.

Easy as pie.

Taking a moment to stretch, I got started.

When was the United States Hero Association founded?

January 8th, 2003. Who wouldn’t know that?

What is the name of the system used to measure the strength of an individual power?

The Shimada Scale. Easy. It was impossible for me to forget that one.

According to USHA regulations, superheroes must get permission to fly over what height?

1000 feet. It was right there on the website.

A group of superheroes who wish to form a team must display what credentials?

A hero licence, proof of US citizenship or appropriate VISA, and no criminal record for all members. I felt like that one was almost too obvious.

What was the name of the first superhero team ever formed?

The Golden Generation. A bit of a trick question, as many people would think of the other groups their members splintered off into, but anyone who wanted to be a hero surely had to know that one.

This test was a joke.

Time flew by as I blitzed through the questions, not a single one posing the slightest challenge.

Towards the end, I leaned back a little to reposition my chair. The hall had long descended into silence, broken only by the shuffling of paper and the scratching of pencils and pens, everyone hunched over their tables and working furiously. A light breeze ruffled soothing fingers through my hair, and I luxuriated in the feeling of surety I was experiencing.

I knew the rest of the day wasn’t going to go anywhere near as easy as this. Better appreciate the calm while I had it.

The breeze stirred the corner of my test a little, drawing my eye to the black splodge that peeked through.

I stared at it, perplexed. I hadn’t used a pen for the entire test. Best practice was always to go through with a pencil first so you could erase mistakes, then redo it with a pen if you had time at the end. More often than not, I tended to just leave my lines in pencil.

It bore investigation, and so I lifted the corner of the page to check. I saw pretty much what I’d expected, but my stomach still dropped.

A page covered in ink blotches. Not a single question answered. I knew most of the other pages would be the same.

And there were only ten minutes left of the test.