Sunday began with the siren call of gravitas calling to him from the distance. He bolted upright in his bed, sleep instantly dispelled.

Mike tried to force his mind to concentrate on something else, anything else. Stumbling around the apartment, he turned on the television to fill the room with distracting noise. He discovered a jar of pickles in the fridge and chugged the sour, salty juice until his eyes watered and he struggled against the curdling in his stomach. When gravitas continued its steadfast approach down the halls of his mind, Mike retrieved the tray of ice cubes from the freezer and held several in each hand.

"Why must you be so loud?" Varanelli stopped with her hand on the television power button to stare at him. "Are you holding ice cubes?"

"Very astute, Varanelli. You're a regular Sherlock Holmes."

"Apparently not, because I don't have a clue why you're doing it."

"Well, you see, roomie, I'm trying my best not to attune to a single precursor like your loser ex."

She winced. "That sucks."

"Thanks for that. Very helpful."

"Which one is it?"

"Gravitas."

"Have you tried focusing on another one?"

Mike shook his head. "Sounds risky."

"Well, you have to try something. Unless you want to put the ice down your pants, I don't think distracting yourself is going to help."

He tossed the half-melted ice cubes into the sink and called up the remembered sensations of nous, the precursor he felt the weakest connection to. Mike moved sit on the couch and closed his eyes to better focus. A breath in, a breath out, repeat. Trying to feel a phantom of the mental vibrancy while setting the right vibe with slow and steady inhalations.

Nous came no closer with the exercise, but gravitas backed off a bit. Hours passed on the couch. Varanelli appeared and disappeared, going about her business with only occasional queries on his status.

When he tired, gravitas perked up as if sensing his waning resistance. Mike punched himself in the thigh and turned his mental energies towards animas instead. The frantic fire woke in his perception, roaring to life in an instance with a fierceness to match the call of gravitas. With an effort equivalent to matching his personal record on the deadlift, Mike forced those two powers into balance.

He eased back into the couch dripping sweat. Gravitas and animas seemed to hover behind him, one at each shoulder.

Then they faded away. The danger past, Mike reclined and let himself doze for a time.

Varanelli woke him by tossing a bucket of fried chicken onto his chest. "Are you up for some lunch?"

"You bought food?" Mike took out a wing as he sat up.

"When I saw you sleeping, I went out to get food and a six pack. I figured we would either be celebrating or commiserating. So which is it?"

"Celebrating," Mike said. He eyed the cans of wheat ale Varanelli held. "I can't drink those."

"Come on, you're not too much of a snob to put back a Blue Moon."

"I'm under strict orders from Marius not to drink." Mike shooed her away. "Put it in your car."

"In my car? Don't be ridiculous, Ski. If you don't want to drink, then don't drink." Varanelli carried the cans to the fridge and returned with a single one opened in her hand. They chowed down on the bucket with only a few words, mostly in the form of criticisms over getting crumbs on the couch and eating more than his fair share. Mike cleaned himself up, packed a gym bag, and drove to the gym.

Jimmy had already been there and completed a workout, so Mike satisifed himself with a fitness workout based around kettlebells, box jumps, and battle ropes. He kept at it for two hours, then showered and returned home. Mike munched on a piece of toast before collecting over a week of laundry from the floor of his room and driving to the laundromat. He watched fight highlights on his phone while waiting for the washer and then dryer to finish with his clothes.

Back home again, Mike opened the fridge where the five cans of beer sat center on the top shelf. He pushed them to the back, then slammed the door shut. Remembering the words of Marius, Mike left the apartment and returned half an hour later with an assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables. He put down two apples, an orange, and half a bag of baby carrots before going after hard boiled eggs.

Varanelli emerged from her room just in time to drive to their meeting spot that night. They parked at the casino and walked over to the trail.

Before Mike could say anything to the already assembled group, Jimmy approached him. "Hey, before yesterday, what job did you think I had?"

"I didn't have a clue."

"You were surprised when I said finance."

"Most people at our gym don't have a desk job."

"You sure that's it?"

Mike raised a finger to the 'hold on a minute' position. "What do you think I do for a living?"

The blank expression on Jimmy's face proved his point, but Mike decided to push it further by cupping his ear as if trying to hear the answer.

Jimmy snapped his fingers. "Isn't it QA?"

"You told him that same day we meet Marius," Srinivas volunteered. "He did not know before."

"Thank you, Srinivas."

"Speaking of meeting Marius . . . I have got an interesting trial for all of you." Marius stalked forward to grin at them. "Yesterday you all faced a gun down with only the talents to defend you. Tonight, I would like to see how brave you are without the benefit of powers." A kinetic field surrounded and lifted the entire group, whisking them through the air until they were over the river and then downstream.

They soared up to an arched suspension bridge and were gently set down at the top of its apex. Mike took a half-step back, then stopped. He did not have any more clearance to the back than he did to the front. There was about two feet of surface and then sheer drop. To the front it was a long tumble into the river below. To the back it was a shorter fall onto cement. Mike licked his lips. When Marius had them fly to the top of tall buildings in the past, he had always been emboldened by the sense of his corona extended and ready to intervene at a moment's notice. Now . . . the odd gusts of wind had him feeling unstable on his perch.

"Oh my," Srinivas muttered.

Varanelli cursed from further down the line.

Marius levitated before them, dark enjoyment in every line of his face. "The trial I have for you tonight . . . is to jump. I will be at the edge of the water to catch you. Be certain you leap forward to avoid striking any part of the bridge. You have five minutes . . . ." His voice faded as he dropped out of sight.

"Guys, I don't think I can do this one," Jimmy announced. "This . . . my brain really doesn't like the thought of jumping."

More foul language poured out of Varanelli. Mike caught something about ripping the balls off of Marius, but wasn't paying much attention.

"Let's all hold hands," Spencer said. "We all jump together."

"Yes, let's jump together," Srinivas echoed.

Mike accepted the hand of Srinivas on one side and the hand of Spencer from the other side. He took a deep breath. "Someone count us down, then. And everybody had better jump! I don't want someone with second thoughts throwing us off."

Spencer nodded and squeezed his hand tight. "On three. One. Two. Three."

With a wordless yell, Mike leaped forward. To each side he heard answering screams from his fellow students as they plunged downwards. His heart thundered in his chest and his feet spasmed into a running motion as if he was a cartoon character trying to run on thin air. The river rushed up at them, growing closer until Mike's entire body locked up with the certainty that they could not stop on time.

And then they did. Less than a foot from the surface, they suddenly halted their downward fall and shot up a bit to levitate.

"Here's a lesson on physics," Marius said. "Stopping suddenly kills people because the stopping force is applied to a surface and then a wave of compression propogates upward through the body. A corona has the option of applying the stopping force equally to every atom of the body at the same time. Instant change in momentum with zero biological damage."

As everyone gasped for breath, Mike pulled both hands free. Marius levitated them towards the south shore. "Should we get on with the lesson, or does anyone want to jump again?" He laughed at the immediate denials.

Back on solid ground, they each received a charge before Marius had them partner up for telepathy practice. Mike found himself across from Spencer. The woman raised both hands in an awkward shrug. "Sorry."

"Not your fault," Mike said.

"I know, Marius picked the pairings."

"Yeah, well, none of the problems between us are your fault."

Spencer looked away from him. "It was stupid. I don't even know why I did it. Then . . . we couldn't have had worse timing. I'm sorry, Ski. It's the worst thing I ever did, and I am really sorry."

"I know. Me too." Mike cleared his throat. "That's all in the past. Let's get on with this lesson."

"Right! Um, is it confusion?"

"Spencer, I haven't started meme-casting yet."

"Oh. How about I go first then?"

"Be my guest." Mike smiled as what he could only perceive as mushy white noise assaulted him. At least he wasn't the worst telepath in the group.