The rest of the month passed with little incident, Seth making sure to keep anyone hostile at arm’s length. He’d rather not jeopardize things so late in the game. He continued to practice in relative secret. What few training sessions he didn't fake were dedicated to honing his focus better. And getting that promised lesson from Weaver, though that was barely anything in the end. Instincts and collective though kind spoiling things. But in the end he was as ready as he’d ever been. The other trainees as well. What sessions he had walked in on tell some serious stories of advancement.

David took to Depthcharge’s teachings pretty well, though maintained his ranged skills just as a precaution. He learned to compress water and create armor using surface tension, the compressed water having the added bonus of augmenting any close range attacks. Once that surface tension was broken, willingly or otherwise, that compressed water shot out with force around the break point. David could use this as a water jet to speed up his attacks, or as reactive armor to keep distance between him and his attackers. He just had to be careful not to drown himself if he had to protect his head.

Zeleny had refined her lasers to their near maximum output, which looked really scary for those who weren’t expecting it. Phazer was helping her to focus her beams to their absolute, and to draw in every bit of light from the visible spectrum at once. At first it seemed like she would be firing high powered rainbows at her enemies as she swirled those colorful beams around. But then she hit that absolute, and suddenly those rainbows disappeared, as did her solid steel target. All in a flash of pure sunlight that narrowly melted through the wall of the arena. She had combined every bit of color she had at her disposal into a single beam that cut through… anything. Even Phazer needed outside help focusing her beams to this kind of level. ‘I think she may be just as concerned about this. Zeleny could very well bump her from her high spot in the League. Power politics and all that.’

Maya, having already demonstrated she was getting increasingly stronger during the bank assault, was also improving her manipulation. Though she seemed to loath it at first, she learned to sculpt and build to an incredibly refined standard. Strata taught her to use sand in its base form as armor and how to layer her materials to increase their overall strength. But on her own time she found she could manipulate metal to a limited degree. It was a building material after all. The biggest thing she learned though was how to maintain her constructs. They break, get shattered or dusted, but that doesn’t mean they stop being materials she can manipulate. Before she would just leave them once they were up, but now she learned to hold them together herself. Using her power constantly to move, alter, or reconstitute her constructs as the need arises. It’s bad enough trying to fight a stone wall, but its worse if it keeps avoiding your attacks and reforming when it gets hit.

Kabar, as spoiled and groomed by the other fire heroes as he was, learned some serious techniques. Making fire tornadoes, super heating specific parts of his whips so they basically explode when used, he even learned to create directed heat blasts using just his hands. His main technique though came in the form of refining his powers on an almost atomic level. He learned to heat up specific parts of his body and parts of the thermal fabric he used in his whips. These parts would expand from the heating, but only when he was making an attack. It was taxing, his body was used to the heat but concentrating it wore him down. But the resulting increase in speed and force from the sudden thermal expansions gave him an edge in melee combat. Or if he wasn’t careful, another means to ‘Ohm’ his hand to smithereens.

Jacob learned to pull moisture from the air to fuel any ice related constructs he needed, so he wouldn’t be wholly reliant on an outside source like David. But like Kabar he learned to use his powers on a finer scale. Ice armor and weapons were simple, increases in edge retention and repair, he even devised supercooling David’s water armor whenever they teamed up. The real improvement was his support skills. He learned to dissipate waste heat in the body and stymie over exertion. On the flip side he learned to slow his enemy’s bodily functions using thermal retraction to lock their muscles down to a degree. This was a better and quicker option than needing to outright freeze them, which would usually mean death for the normal person. Though he wasn’t about to test out this technique just in case.

Kaz, already at the level necessary to be a hero, seemed to continue to train with his dad. Seth was sure he was doing this just to keep his dad level and happy, but it was clear to him that Kaz was close to overtaking him in terms of skill.

Tabby took to Paleorus’ teaching exceedingly well, not only learning to take the form of a smilodon, saber-toothed cat, but also learning to mix and match her forms to suit her needs. Need more strength, tiger arms. Fast speed, cheetah legs. All without going through a total transformation. Meanwhile, she continued to retain her ballet under Malerina. Though not training as hard at it, she was able to keep up with her fighting style and adapt it better to her powers.

Razor continued to train under Blade Tone, getting a complete sword fighting course and improving his technique. But on his own he was able to improve his powers to a more considerable levels. He’d retained some amount of metal produced to create his blades before, but now he was outright keeping the metal, building it up to create built-in weapons and armor for himself. Seth wasn’t totally certain, but Razor may have retained Needle to a degree, or at least learned something from her whether he wanted to or not. Still he was able to make metal armor for specific parts of his body, mostly his shins and forearms.

Alex seemed to already have things down, she just needed to train and retain. She could copy anyone, sneak around like she was invisible, and surprise her enemies with their own powers. But for some reason she was distant a lot of the time. Preferring to be alone or not really train most days. Seth didn’t understand her powers enough to really say with certainty, but a modicum of fear crept in the back of his mind. ‘Did she try to copy me?’ Whatever had happened, she was ready for graduation regardless, her power filling a rare niche in the League’s power base. She was assured to get in, even if she failed somehow.

Marco was also looking ready for graduation, Master Da Feng adding greatly to his advancement. He had mastered wind-based flight, fine current control, and even subconscious focus of his powers. He was able to start attacks before ever thinking about them, create passive defense currents that redirected most incoming attacks, and could hover in place without needing to focus on staying up. But in the end he didn’t really seem to iterate on himself, only learn and master what was taught.

Cleo mastered her teachings as well. She learned passive creation of straps, much like Marco, but obviously more physical in nature. She also learned drastic enhancements to her own abilities. Extreme length straps, leather walls, leather based muscle suits powered by passive use of her powers. Her armor became an offensive buff in addition to a defensive one. Finally though she learned something truly horrifying, utterly monumentally disturbing. She wasn’t just creating those leather straps from thin air, she was just letting them out and defining their shape. Seth only overheard a few details, but it was enough. She was in control of a pocket dimension, a space all her own, and it was nothing… NOTHING but leather. It was a mental construct of some kind, but it was a whole dimension none-the-less. One she opened portals to and drew leather out of. Meaning she could end up using those portals herself, either as transportation… or damnation. Seth was once again scared of Cleo.

Ohm… on the other hand was losing his excessive edge. His training under his father finally seemed to bear fruit, in that he was actually learning something other than how to not be an insufferable asshole. He was learning empathetic reading, arguably the one thing he was really in need of. He could see and interpret the signals given off by the brain and the nervous system. He couldn’t read minds, but he could read movements, judge intentions, and react on other people’s stimuli. Admittedly… Seth could only do half of that. His nervous system had been altered so much he couldn’t use his own physiology as a basis to interpret someone else’s intentions with that kind of detail. Though he could see it clearly on their faces at least. Ohm was sure to benefit from this, finally having an enhanced sense of empathy is a real improvement compared to what he was like before. And thus the trainees were set, trained to their fullest and given the green light. It was time to challenge them one last time.

Friday was the last official day, and no news had been distributed about graduation to the trainees. This wasn’t much of a surprise, things being what they were. ‘Expect the unexpected, yadda yadda. Uggh, really getting tired of that.’ The trainees were called up after regular morning training, one last line up. Para was center stage again, still no Aegis. Seth took the liberty to check through the dispatch room’s records to see what was up. The Elite were preparing for an operation it seemed, no one knew anything else. Guess the League expected spies to be everywhere. ‘Oh well, can only really hope they grace us with their presence at graduation.’ Para at least didn’t look as hardassed today, probably thankful that training was almost over for good. Though Seth couldn’t help feel a tinge of knowing smugness about him. “Okay recruits, today was your final day. I hope you’ve squeezed out every bit of potential you can from your bodies, because your time is up. There will be no more training, no more drills, no more courses. What level you’re at now is what will be tested tomorrow at your graduation ceremony.” A few grumbling murmurs and complaints were heard at the news. “What… were you not expecting that?”

“Oh fuck off already!” Kabar was voicing what most everybody was feeling. “We understand how to adapt to the situation, but a fucking formal event shouldn’t be a surprise that gets dropped in our laps like it was made up on the spot. You may not think it, but we at least want to look good when we finally get accepted.” The tailor in Kabar wasn’t as mild-mannered as it seemed. Though he did have a point. “Why do you think training ended now?” Though Para wasn’t as annoyed at Kabar’s outburst as Seth expected. “You have the rest of today and till 6:00PM tomorrow to prep yourselves for the ceremony. The League’s armorers are open to you if you need revisions to your suits, just don’t expect to get anything as flashy as Tinman.” Seth turned with mild annoyance that Para was sticking to his own narrative, but he was honestly over it by now. Para went back to disregarding him, returning to the hardassed trainer he was before. “Your graduation will depend completely upon you. No one will bail you out if you fail, no one will support you if you fall, and no one expects you to succeed. You will be tested to your absolute. And if it’s not good enough… then you never deserved to be a hero in the first place.” Seth flinched at that word again, but held back the internalized anger at its utterance. “But despite that… good luck. And may you prove me wrong yet again.” The trainees all blinked at Para’s sudden sentimentality, taking the rare encouragement with silent acceptance. No sense ruining the moment by- “*sniff* I knew you cared about us sir.” “Waterboy I swear to god if you try and hug me again I will throw you back into Berta!” And there it is. The trainees all filed out, most diverting to the logistical levels of the Hill, toward the armories. Got to make a good impression during the ceremony.

Seth went back to his room, there wasn’t much he needed to do, and he didn’t need the armorer's help doing it. The suit, threaded and layered to its own absolute, stood against the wall. The matte silver of the outward metal had its charm, but Seth was sure it needed something, needed a more refined look. Putting a hand to it, he felt through the electron fibers, the hum they gave off, the materials they held together. ‘If I’m able to alter myself… then the suit should be even easier to change.’ “Certainly less likely to die horribly doing it.” Threat watched on as Seth focused, felt through the alloy that made up the outer layers. He didn’t need much, just enough material to coat the outside.

The tungsten wouldn’t be too bad, it already held the whole thing together and the skeleton was mostly for show at this point, but it was a weird color in this mix. The bit of gold… no. Not enough and would look gaudy as hell. ‘Don’t need people thinking I’m as rich as Ohm.’ The silver maybe, but it wasn't much either. Plus both of those were needed together anyway. “And you don’t even want to know how rich Speaker was.” Seth snickered as he felt Speaker’s mild ire behind Threat, then returned to the suit. Maybe the aluminum? It can be shiny enough, and it was in abundant supply. ‘Eh why not. Wait… even better.’ Seth popped the suit open, the matte black of the inner Ark metal layer sucking away the light that was shown over it. Seth reached a hand in, feeling about for a spot. He felt it on the helmet, a spot that was a little thicker than the rest of the layer. He ran a hand above it, pulled the excess metal out from under the gel layer. The metallic dust under his complete control now. It wasn’t too much, but it would add something interesting to the outer layer. Seth closed the suit up and put his hand over the outside again. Like an infinitesimal circulatory system, he used the threading to pull an aluminum layer up to the surface, its artificial shine a little too much to be used alone. He put his other hand on the suit, pressing the Ark metal dust into the mix. He spread it over the outer coat, the overt shine becoming darker and darker. With a final run through, the suit’s slight grey shine was changed to a dark silver sheen, like impossibly polished wrought iron. Seth took a step back to look it over, and to get the final touch.

He looked over at his bedside, the box he had brought from Frigateville. He opened it up, the red of his mother’s scarf still as bright as ever. He scooped it up, gingerly unfurling it. It reached down to his waist, edges tastefully frayed in a knotted pattern on one end and a pennant pattern on the other. Seth walked it over to his suit, tied the knotted end over the neck, making sure it was tight enough. The other end was draped over the shoulder. It wasn’t a cape, but it was something. Sentimental and distinctive. A little bit of his mom to carry him through whatever they threw at him. He just had to be sure to remove it before his fight. It was all he had left of his old life. But that was more than enough… It was time.

Saturday passed with trainees running back and forth, getting materials and equipment for their suits. Para didn’t mention it but the armorers weren’t going to do all the work completely for free. Seth passed his time by scoping out the Hill’s registrar, just to see who was attending. Apparently friends, family, and the public were informed of graduation a month ago. ‘They really take this disparity of information thing too damn seriously sometimes.’ Everyone Seth noticed at the monologues was set to attend, as well as a few he could only guess at. Alex’s family possibly, as well as Zeleny’s, but also some that looked like cover names. VIPs? Maybe HQ was sending observers. He had combed every inch of the Hill’s systems and archives by now but never found any information on what League Headquarters was actually like, so it stands to reason they keep most of it heavily secret. Or they still use paper files. Casually skimming a local computer net was one thing, actively sneaking into heavily restricted file storage was another. But whatever this meant in the long run paled in comparison to the short run. The arena was set to be packed, the public tickets sold out within a day. People really enjoy super fights. By five o’clock the audience was streaming into the foyer, most of the displays removed so they were safe from accidents. Even the central reception desk and statue were moved out. There was going to be a separate gala after graduation to welcome the new heroes to the League a bit more personally. The trainees were snuck into the central locker room so as to not spoil their grand entrance. Inside, Seth saw what a day and a half of work meant for skilled armorers and tailors.

Everyone’s suits were beefed up, the colors more toned and balanced, and now had real plating in place of the standard pads. Kabar obviously did his own work, his lines now acted as padding in hard hit areas. Semi-independent sections wrapped around his legs and arms, as well as parts of his torso… 'Wait? This fucker made a thermal thread muscle suit.’ He added to his rapid thermal expansion abilities by creating artificial muscles and tendons to expand on demand. It gave him another vector so he wouldn’t burnout from too much internal use. His suit retained its base black, but the flames were removed so they wouldn’t be covered up, and given that those lines light on fire they were a little outmoded.

Zeleny’s suit seemed odd at first. It was the same surplus suit, now with plating, but the original poison dart aesthetic was streamlined into just the accents of the suit. The real issue though was that Seth could still see the original pattern despite its recoloring, as well as a small amount of circuitry spread out under it. ‘An adaptive coloring system. Neat.’ Now she won’t just pull from the original green, she can match colors with specific situations. ‘She’s finally branching out of being fucking green all the time.’

Razor altered his suit pretty sensibly, normal clothes don’t really stand up to the stresses of hero work. He took up a surplus suit, ignored the plating, colored it base black and dark red, and added on his holsters. But he cut the sleeves short, literally cutting them himself. He was still tearing through them in the locker room. The suit was a half size too big as well, all this to accommodate his created metal armor and bladed weapons. He did keep his holed gloves though, probably out of sentimentality.

Kaz looked to have completed his armor set, both shoulders were now armored, as well as his arms and legs. His… robe… gi? ‘I really need to learn what that damn thing is called.’ Whatever it was, it was fully worn now and covered both shoulders. The real difference was in the pattern on the robe, it was rather floral compared to the standard seagrass green he had before. Seth felt this pattern was a deliberate choice, something sentimental but he couldn’t place it.

David seemed to just take the upgrade to his suit, keeping the blue and grey. Though he did add one thing, a small rebreather unit around his neck. So at the very least he won’t be drowning himself. Maya seemed to do the same, no major alterations other than plating. But she did change her coloring though, tank-top changed to beige now like her accents and the surplus pants changed to asphalt grey, both in color and texture. It even had stripping. Jacob seemed to also retool his suit to a degree, taking the plating upgrade and recoloring the normally beige base of his firefighting attire to soft white. The hazard stripes were also changed to be brighter blue. He had added an extra axe holster and tank to his back as well, but no breathing apparatus. ‘Must be a water tank. Can’t rely on the humidity all the time.’

Tabby’s alteration seemed the most complete, in that she did away with her old suit and opted for an almost sleeveless armored leotard with a black and white tiger stripe pattern. To add to the alteration of her look she seemed to be permanently changed into a form Seth was sure wasn’t naturally occurring. Its fur matched the leotard, only being broken up by the frilly white accents on the edges. It looked smaller than her original tiger form, but not as small as her other, faster, forms. A middle ground she created all her own, which was obvious once you saw the absurdly bushy features of a Maincoon cat mixed with the more predatory looking head of a tiger. ‘Trying to look regal as fuck I guess.’

Alex didn’t change her suit at all, didn’t even take the plating upgrade. What she did do was copy herself up to look like Para, intent to surprise the audience a little. ‘If she’s opening with that, I’m scared what she will do once she reveals herself.’ Marco kept his gi as it was, though he added some charms he received from Master Da Feng. Mostly beaded bracelets and a necklace… with Master Da Feng’s training school symbol on it. ‘He’s using Marco as advertising isn’t he.’ Cleo opted to keep her suit the same, texture and color wise. Plated up, her suit was only changed to include a leather jacket instead of belts. But her hair went from twin tails to a more swept back flow, and it glistened with gold dust. ‘Damn you Pharaoh Shephten, I will learn your hair care techniques if it’s the last thing I do!!’

Ohm seemed to improve his style game as well, finally getting his suit personalized instead of just slapping a patch on a fresh surplus. He didn’t go too far, but he took a queue from his father and added gold accents to his suit, as in actual gold. ‘I was joking before, fucking hell Ohm don’t prove me right!’ The base color changed as well, a more cloudy grey rather than a drab one. All that was left was Seth. His suit was prepped, but his old connector suit wasn’t going to cut it. Taking a few pointers from Weaver, he repaired his suit and improved its aesthetic. He mulched some of the copper from his old layers and dyed a scaled pattern on to the extremities and down his back. He also beefed up the connectors to help them keep up with his new strength. The trainees all waited, anxious for their introduction, but ready to fight for their future.

The muffled rumble of packed seating died down to silence, the trainees listening in as Para once again took up his role as the Master of Ceremonies. Unlike last time though, the locker room had an audio feed. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Heroes, old and new! I welcome you to our prestigious graduation ceremony! Where mettle will be tested! Strength will be determined! And the honor of being called a hero shall be earned by those worthy of its burdens! Upon this sand, new heroes will rise! And within the hearts of those in attendance, new legends will be etched!” Mediknight opened the locker room door and walked in. The door led to a larger ready room with a shutter door to the arena. It was dark, the roof closed and the lights out save for a spotlight drenched podium holding Para up next to the audience. “It’s time.” “Without further ado! I give to you, the recruits to be tested! Your future Heroes!!”

The trainees stood up and filed out the opened door and into the dim ready room, order and procedure at least given ahead of time. They kept the same order they always had, David out front and Seth keeping up the rear. As David stepped out into the dark of the arena floor, new spotlights illuminated his steps. Zeleny was held back a space so some amount of introduction could be had, though the set plan was to have the trainees introduce themselves. The arena was quiet, the audience silently waiting for the display. David walked out into the arena a ways, chest puffed a little to hide his nervousness, before stopping and spreading out his arms. With a rounding motion, he condensed a glob of water in each hand and ran it around in a directed flow. With a smooth shift he expanded the flow out, a flowing ribbon of water waving around him. The water shimmered dazzlingly in the intense spotlight. Once performatively sufficient, the flowing water suddenly shot in and wrapped around him creating his water armor. The water formed into smooth bulky plates that did little to impede him, but considerably bulked up his profile. With a final flexing pose, his water armor suddenly exploded away in a splashy spray that seemed to glisten in the spotlight. Done with his display he looked up toward the darkened stands and raised up his hand with a beaming smile. Before the audience could even start clapping a deafening call came from the direction David was facing. Like a cross between a whale call and an over eager soccer mom, so pretty much just David’s mom. Seth couldn’t see it, but was fairly certain she just deafened several people. Based at least on the fact that Mediknight sighed, locked the door open, and walked out into the pitch darkness to more than likely repair a few people’s eardrums. David winced at the very obvious implications and kept walking toward the protected bench below Para’s stand that was the trainees’ goal.

Zeleny walked out as he left the center, the rest of the line clear on the procedure. A new spotlight illuminated her as she walked a ways out before floating up a few feet. While she rose her suit lit up her original green as she pulled her hands together, a barely visible stream of that green flowing in between them from her suit. As the green wore thin the suit changed color, from the left a stream of yellow, orange, and then red. From the right blue, indigo, and violet. Slowly these colors streamed together between her hands, a balled up rainbow. Her suit flashed this rainbow across its pattern as she grabbed hold of her creation. With a flourish she released the ball and the rainbow of colors haloed out in every direction. The audience cheered as she landed back down, but Seth still felt a hint of sadness from her as she walked on. Her parents probably hadn't shown up again. But suddenly a distinct whistle came from overhead, like an old style hunting call. Zeleny swirled around, feet completely disregarding the ground. “That’s my little duha!!” Zeleny lit up, literally, and- “DADDY!!!” rocketed up into the stands above the locker room door. Seth was still out of the loop, but the collective awe and applause from the audience made it plenty clear what just happened. Maya held off her entrance until Zeleny flew back down and continued her walk to the bench, wiping happy tears from her face and basically disregarding the ground completely.

Maya walked out finally into her intro spotlight, cracking her knuckles to add some emphasis. At distance, she pulled her arms into her sides and stomped the ground. Her stomp forced up a step of flash hardened sand, which she immediately stomped on with her other foot causing a higher step to rise ahead of the last. She created a staircase of sand, held together by her power, and rose several feet in the air. Before the last step she released her arms and pushed her foot into it, causing it to topple like a domino. As it fell she stepped out onto it and rode it to the ground, the hardened sand not impacting as one but falling apart like the sand it was. The rest of the stairs followed suit on impact as Maya spread her arms out in a flourish and kept walking under the audience’s mild applause.

Kabar waited a small moment more for the sand to dissipate, then walked out. At safe distance he ignited his lines, his entire suit, but kept walking. Once around the middle of the arena he stopped. His lines released down to his feet, but only that far. With a massive build up, he whipped his right arm out to the side, launching his line to its farthest reach. He repeated for his left, both lines smoldering and burning the sand beneath them. Suddenly he twisted around, winding up and whipping his lines in another fiery clothesline. The flames on the lines amplified, but couldn’t catch up to the speed on the lines, creating a lingering disk of flame as the lines completed their circle. Suddenly, at their completion, Kabar shot his arms up, pulling the lines up in a skyward whip. The flame disk getting dragged upward, a short lived bracketing arch. As the lines reached their zenith their tips glowed hotter than the rest of the line, they were superheated. They crashed against each other, releasing all that stored heat in a spectacular, but hollow, explosion. The flames were extinguished by the blast wave, and Kabar was left in darkness, his spotlight out done by his flames. It returned as the audience applauded his display.

Jacob waited, knowing full well Kabar was going to go big. He finally stepped out, not needing a serious amount of space. As he walked he held his hands out, condensed breath and humidity collecting around him. Slowly ice sculptures began rising up along his path, clear ice panes rose up linearly above him. At the center of the arena he formed a wall ahead of him, closed in on three sides by crystal clear ice. Suddenly he produced hand axes from his back and stanced up. With swift motions he cut into the ice, seemingly at random. Ice shaved off and glistened in the spotlight as he expertly twirled about. Once done, he returned his hand axes and pulled his arms in front of him. He flung them out, pushing the ice walls over all at once, letting them fall to the ground. They didn’t shatter, but revealed what he had created. He had carved out stylized fire shields with the number 55 on them. It was the patch from his family’s firehouse, carved upside down and only shown to the audience right side up on the ground. As the audience started applauding a collective holler came from a group to his right. A woman in the middle of the group, who all wore the same firefighter suits Jacob did, stood over them and yelled with a commanding tone that put Para near to shame. “Show Them Who’s Boss Around Here Jacob!!!” Guess that’s his firehouse… and his mom. ‘Yup… those really are some shoes to fill.’

Kaz stepped up next, though Seth felt he was a little bereft of a display, comparatively. He also worried about his own entrance, nothing to show but suit and strength. A small amount of confidence returned as figures approached Kaz from the shadowed arena, hardlight training dummies. He stopped in the center, hand around the scabbard of his blade and on surrounded six sides. The dummies all mirrored in their movements. Not even a beat later, they rushed forward, intent on slamming into him. But before they could make contact, Kaz flashed forward, blade drawn and turning back into the collapsing dummy singularity. Kaz leapt through them, blade reflecting the spotlight to all around. He'd crossed the spotlight’s range in a single step and turned before his momentum could even be ascertained. A flash moved from edge to edge of the pool of light like it was confined to it. Five flashes and Kaz was back behind the jumbled group of targets. With a final rush, he seemed to slash through the group and stop back at the opposite edge of the light. Like a cliché, he sheathed his sword with a delay just before snapping the hilt to the end. The hilt snap coincided with the realization of that first cut. Then sequentially all six cuts were realized, the dummies getting sliced finer and finer with every realization before finally being decimated by the last cut, scattering derezing particles over him. The audience applauded heavily as Kaz walked on to the bench.

Tabby now walked on to the arena floor, but rather quickly changed her steps as a simple melody started up. She had created a ballet routine that incorporated her cat-like physique. Her bounds were monumental, the spotlight only just keeping up with her. Her plies were considerably more pronounced and moved into full body horizontal twirls. She finished off her routine with a massive leap, mixing gymnastics with ballet by flipping front ways and sideways, landing into a slight slide off her momentum and bowing low on one knee with her arms out wide and low. The audience clapped respectfully as the music stopped and she stood up again, a considerable distance closer to the bench than before.

Razor walked out next as a series of small spotlights lit up around the arena, Most on the floor, but a few lit the ceiling, a couple were above the stands as well. Each spotlight though soon lit up a target, scored sections and all. As Razor made it to the center he took a deep shaky breath, he was still nervous, and reasonably so. As he released though, that nervousness disappeared in a flash of metal reflection. A razor knife flew from an outstretched hand at the nearest target, sticking in edgewise. One by one the floor targets each received a knife, not quite in their centers, but close enough. A sudden shift up and a knife struck the targets above him. As if on cue, a target fell from the ceiling, a rope holding it aloft as it swung passed Razor. A knife was stuck in it as it passed its closest. Three more swinging targets and three more wooden thunks of hits. A final flourish brought both hands up with one of his large razor swords over his head. He took a massive step to get as much momentum into his throw as he could and loosed it... at the audience. It flew through the air, a spotlight keeping it lit as it tumbled and reflected, straight for the target over the stands. With not so hidden trepidation, Razor watched it sail over several people’s heads, most ducking out of fear. He closed his eyes as he heard the impacting thud of metal echo in the arena. He finally looked up to see the sword stuck dead in the target…’s hanger, it falling free and sliding behind one of the audience members to their surprise. The arena was silent for a second before- “WOOOOOOO!!!” Razor celebrated, more than likely for not hitting anyone accidently. The audience clapped, but his display didn’t seem to impress everyone, least of all the people that were under threat of a sword to the head.

In the curmudgeonly applause, Para Alex slipped out of the door, avoiding the spotlight meant for her. The audience sounded puzzled as the spotlight danced about searching for its target. It finally stopped in the center, finding the second, redder, Para staring up at the real one. Seth could see clearly that the real one was a little pissed, even though he was left in shadow. Suddenly Alex Para spun around and began shaking her… his… their ass, she was mocking him let’s just leave it at that. Before the real Para could start sonically stage hooking her out of the spotlight, she spun around again, revealing her real form. The audience, still snickering at the last act finally understood what was happening, but Alex wasn’t done. She quickly changed again, this time into a red hued Maya. With a quick stomp and forceful arm movement, an ascending set of rocks shot up to her left. She returned to the center and shifted again, this time into Jacob. Shooting both hands out to her right she created another ascending set of ice spikes before again returning to the center. She shifted again, this time Kabar. She forced a hand down and scorched the sand beneath her in a ring, lighting most of it on fire. Next she took David’s form and fountained up a surge of water above her. Finally she went back to Para’s form, stopping her routine to smile up at Para under the raining fountain turning to steam. Pulling her arms over her body, the air, water, and steam rippled before she released them in a mimicked sonic desperation blast. The blast destroyed the ice and stone, shot the water away and put out what flames still lingered. Once the scene calmed, Alex stumbled back to her original form, but sauntered out of the center to the audience’s applause.

Marco stepped out next, though like Zeleny he quickly stopped stepping and started floating. As he floated forward he pulled his hands in and took a meditative stance, both hands stacked over each other with their palms up. Like the others, he stopped in the center and began his demonstration. From his stance he moved his hands around, pulling air around with them. A visible current flew at his direction, first to his left then around him in increasing speed. Once the current was completely closed around him he took up a focus stance and increased the speed. The current began picking up sand from the floor, pulling all the air in. Marco was creating a tornado. But as it formed around him, it seemed to change. The current slowed, but the walls of debris expanded outward. The top was kept low so the audience could see him as he began forming a new current, this time from the right. Marco repeated his process, forming a second tornado inside the first, but in the opposite direction. Once done, Marco held both his hands out, left controlling the wider tornado, right controlling the inner one. They changed shape and height at his commands, just so the audience was understanding. But then Marco floated higher, above his creations. He began pulling is arms back in, both twisters reacting to this. He leveled his palms at each other across his abdomen, the twisters leveled themselves to each other. They were different speeds, but as Marco began closing the distance between his palms they gradually closed this difference. The outer grew faster, the inner slower. With a final forceful movement, Marco slammed his palms together, and the twisters collided their opposing currents in kind. Unlucky sand and debris was shot out in every direction, with the lucky bits stopping dead and falling down like it had not just been tumble drying. Marco floated down through the sparkling falling sand to the applause of the audience and made his way to the bench.

Next came Cleo, though she stopped dead once the spotlight lit up on her, gold glistening in her drawn out black hair. With a subtle motion, she moved her hands up as if she were playing a violin, just as she materialized some odd looking… ‘She just fucking made a violin out of leather. I don’t know whether to be horrified or impressed, but what the fuck.’ Tautly draw and thinned straps made up the strings and bow, hardened bits making up the body. And the sound was- *SCREEEE* abominable. Cleo retracted and smiled innocently as she instantly stopped and tuned her lovecraftian creation. Plucking it a few times she sighed in relief and began again. The sound was softer now, but balanced by the shrill nature of running leather over leather. She played like it was far from her first time as well, starting slow and building complexity. And then adding even more complexity in the shape of more leather instruments. She began walking forward into the arena as a leather percussion set formed behind her, a pair of leather straps taking the place of an actual drummer. As she walked more violins formed, leather straps mirroring her movements and playing the slowly growing disembodied band. A few upright basses, a group of cellos, a team of violas. Once this leather string band was complete, another group of straps materialized, except they were definitely not playing anything. A wall of massive straps, like the python she created for the simulations, rose up around like an impromptu orchestra pit, but leaving the front open more like an amphitheater. But they were not intent on sitting idly. As the beat rose in intensity, the pythons pulled inward, releasing outward at the crescendo of the set. The resulting massive whip shook the arena like a massive bass, like nothing Tchaikovsky could ever muster. Cleo played her heavy concert for a minute and a half, the music building to a final climax where the pythons whipped a sequence and a final massive beat as the band disappeared and Cleo bowed to the audience. She received a standing ovation fitting the fact that she just fucking played a one woman orchestra. ‘I truly fear for what kind of skill or quirk she will pull out of goddamn thin air next.”

Ohm was up next, he’d juiced himself up so he didn’t have to waste time in front of the audience. And he very much still had a smug air about him, despite his new infusion of empathy. He didn’t react when the spotlight fell on him, just kept walking out into the center, more than likely enjoying making the audience wait. Seth only really noticed it now that he was away, but Ohm had his eyes shut and a lot of power stored up. ‘Oh shit.’ Ohm suddenly snapped his head up, open his eyes, and bared a wide toothy smile up at the audience. One full of sparks and directed mania. As soon as the audience could have understood what he’d done, he immediately shot down and turned heel to the left, all in the space of half a second. By the end of that second he was across the center circle, streaks of electricity in his wake that propelled him on. By the next half second he was across the circle again and on his way to a different corner. He ran a diamond circuit around the circle until the electricity behind him became a solid unbroken line to the audience, his movements becoming too fast to perceive normally. Once the diamond was thoroughly burned into people’s eyes, Ohm stopped propelling himself, electricity cutting out as he shifted to a point to the west side of the center of the circle. Once there he reenergized his movements and shot around the circle in a pattern Seth couldn’t see from the locker room door. Focusing a little, he found the cameras set up for the event and looked through them just as Ohm came to a stop in the center. Ozone steaming off of him as he struggled a little with his own power withdrawal, a giant plasma burned Omega symbol emblazoned into the center circle. ‘I shouldn’t really be surprised, but he showed improvement a least.’ As Ohm finished presenting his display to the audience’s applause, he turned to Seth still left in the dark of the locker room door, a smug sneer across his face. ‘I swear its 1 step forward and 3 steps back with this guy.’ As the applause died down and Ohm walked on, it was finally Seth’s turn, and he’d readied himself to put on a show.

Seth took a heavy step forward into the arena, metal on sand may be muffled but the weight in his steps was clear as day to the now silent audience. But despite his entrance the spotlight did not illuminate him. He wasn’t complaining, it was adding to the ambiance, but this was unlike Para to be helpful like this. Seth stomped half menacingly into the center and stopped, the pitch darkness not a hindrance. Finally his spotlight ignited as one final step hit the center, the dark sheen of his alloy coating reflecting the light like a soft metal mirror. Red scarf flowing around him from his steady momentum. He turned up and posed to the audience, stretching his arms out to say this was what he had for them. This is who he was. But before he could actualize his display, the rest of the lights of the arena flipped on, illuminating every corner and audience member. Seth deflated in surprise at the sudden ending of the entrance ceremony atmosphere, lowering his arms gradually as he looked around at the empty arena floor and at the audience all staring at him. Most looked puzzled thinking this was a part of the act, others more in the know seemed to chuckle at Seth’s imposed embarrassment. He disregarded them and looked immediately disappointed at the source of this abrupt ending. Para smugly looked down from his audience level podium, letting Seth soak in the audience’s disappointment and ridicule a little longer.

“There you have it ladies and gentlemen! Your heroes-to-be!!” Para looked around at the audience’s reaction, seemingly feeding off of their growing displeasure. Seth disregarded them completely and continued staring dead at Para. “What? Oh! Sorry for the abruptness folks! This is our last trainee, who has neither power to display nor skill to perform!” Seth dropped his gaze completely on Para and clenched his plated fists as the audience seemed to jeer quietly. “But we can’t deny he has earned his place here today!” ‘Walking fine lines jackass.’ “So instead of giving you a boring opening display, we have decided to begin immediately with the graduation challenges! What better a way to show off the metal and mettle of our dear Tinman!?” Seth and the rest of the trainees collectively cringed at fact that Para was still using his stupid nicknames during an official ceremony. Thankfully the audience seemed to not care for the nickname as well.

At least thankful he was getting a chance, Seth took his scarf from his neck. If his fight was up he didn’t want it damaged. He opened the chest of his suit, folding the scarf up and placing it inside, leaving it close to his heart. “Now then!” The lighting of the arena changed slightly, the audience and side lights dimmed to bring more attention to the center area. “Today we have a truly once in a lifetime event for you all to witness! One that may unsettle you, but is reluctantly the only true test we can put our powersuited recruit through and still say he is worthy! And, given his past experiences, is undoubtedly the most necessary!” Seth never let his sight leave Para, but his grip loosened and his demeanor shifted back in slight fear. ‘Don’t you fucking dare send me back to Berta you piece of fucking shit.’

“Today” A sudden shift in the floor below him startled Seth down, sand rising as a cap under the floor released. “we give you a fighter born only for death!” He moved to the side as the cap under the floor seemed to spin in place, a hermetic seal releasing with a gritty hiss. “Whose continued existence is an affront to our peaceful society, but has indeed been a necessary one!” The cap began rising, thoroughly in its groove spiral. “She has gone by many names, been tried for many crimes, and will forever serve her sentence for what she has become!” ‘What the fucking hell is this Para?’ Metal cased walls rose from under the cap, sand falling away as the lid folded and retreated to the sides. “To this day she has wept eternal for her lost people, for her lost humanity!!” Seth dropped back more, possibilities running amuck in his mind at what Para was unleashing. “Today, I present to you SORROW!!!” The metal casing fell away back into the floor. “THE LAST OF THE LACEROIDS!!!” The world froze instantly as Seth's fears found mortal form. One... that he knew. One covered in greyed scales, armed with tarnished claws, and beholden... to crying… hazel… eyes.

‘Speaker. I need a scan of her. Right. Now.’ “We… we do not have the receivers up yet and-” ‘RIGHT!! FUCKING!! NOW!!’ Seth couldn’t move. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to run, just run as fast as it could. But he couldn’t move, and neither could the audience. Like the air had suddenly turned to stone, no one dared to even try and breath. The curt suspense had fallen in on itself and a near total fear now ruled the stands. The recruits on the protected bench tried to brace but even they were powerless against the aura that this thing gave off. Most just desperately converging around David as he quietly broke down at the sight of her. Heroes not in the know shot up to ready themselves, reflexes burned into their psyches, but they were quickly stood down by those who understood. Because no one wanted to make a sound, to set off the living bomb of claws and teeth that stood sobbing in the center of the arena. But of course Para was not beholden to this fear.

“Fear not ladies and gentlemen!” “RRRRRAAAAAGGGHHHHHH” The sobbing evaporated like the façade it was and that bomb exploded, half a ton of meat and muscle reflexively lunging at the sound of his voice. The audience recoiled and devolved into wanton screaming, that suffocating air ripped in twain. But quickly deadened by the heavy weighted crash of the chain around her neck. She was caught short, clotheslined and not allowed to leave the center. Over buffed bulk falling back and scrambling on the sand as she struggled against her collar. “Like I said. Fear not. For today’s first challenge is not a public execution, nor some cruel blood sport!" "RRAAGHHH" "But, you now understand. This is the truest test we can administer!” The laceroid lunged again toward Para, yanking at the chain that recessed into the floor, heavy weights shifting and clanging below, rumbling the arena with every attempt.

“Tinman’s challenge today is a simple one!” Seth wanted nothing more than to beat the ever living shit out of Para, clenching until the metal over his hands whined for mercy. But he couldn’t look away, he couldn’t move an inch, that solidified air too powerful to escape. “He must stay within the central fighting circle for 5 minutes! Must withstand and avoid the onslaught of Sorrow as best he… and his powersuit can! Only then can he truly be called a hero worthy to stand among us!” ‘You fucking son of a BITCH!!’ “But he can’t be expected to be perfect! No one is. But mistakes still have a cost. Every time he leaves the circle, 2 minutes will be deducted from his total, forcing him to stay in longer! If he is knocked out too much, the match is forfeit, if he is knocked unconscious the match is forfeit, if Sorrow proves to be too much and is close to killing him, the match is forfeit! And to be sure that no one is hurt should the worst arise… we have the Elite’s own Aegis providing shielding for today’s fights!” The air finally snapped free of that suffocating aura, let Seth out of his compounding fear, afforded him a glance over to the podium. There she was, finally.

He’d been right, the rest of the Elite was here, sitting front row ready to observe the fights, but only she was off her feet. A dour look, a knowing and guilty doldrum that signaled she was resigned to watch helplessly. The others all sat in forcible stoicism, but Seth could see their anxiety and hatred clear as day, they weren’t immune to this fear. Aegis bent down at the knee high lip of the arena, hands spread over the side. A ceiling of translucent orange energy spread out from her hands to cap off the arena. A small wall fell around the protected bench housing the defensively frozen trainees. Looks of shared terror at their proximity to such a monster finally eased under the invulnerable glow. Seth reflexively relaxed under the light orange ceiling, a feeling of safety even he couldn't deny. But short lived. Seth looked back down from his moment to see Sorrow lunging at him now. The weight around her neck smashing against its container, sand getting shot up from the impact. Without even a though he'd flinched back, stopped just short of the line, heel hung over it like a unconscious sign of weakness. He couldn't lose sight again.

“Seth… we have confirmed it.” Speaker chose now of all fucking times! “What data we could pull from our scanners, it… it is her… It’s your mother!” Seth softened his tension, but couldn’t show it, couldn’t show any reaction. All he could do was stare down the thing his mother had become. He could see all the things he saw before in Berta in her eyes. All the vain sorrow she had been locked into by her transformation, all the pain she was feeling on constant blast. He could also see the threading that held her together, the density was almost too much. His powered senses strained looking at her, trying to make sense of it all. “There’s something else…” Seth was feeling Speaker’s apprehension, feeling what he had found for himself. ‘She’s… still in there?’ “As far as we can tell… yes.” Seth’s mind raced at the hell she had suffered all this time, was still suffering. But then it turned back toward Speaker, the Garkah, the Ark!

‘Get Concoctor! Ready a conscious crossover! We need to get her out of there!’ “Seth wait… we do not have that kind of tech prepared… we-” ‘JUST FUCKING DO SOMETHING!!!’ Seth couldn’t stand it. The thought of his mother suffering one more minute locked in that body. But he was out of time. “The fighters are ready!!” Para reasserted himself over everyone’s emotions and massed consternations. “The field is set!!!” Seth snapped back again, flashing a glare that could burn steel at Para, an afforded condemnation before returning to Sorrow. A screen flipped open over the stands and counted up five minutes. Para raised his arm to the sound of chains rattling out of their coil below the arena floor, the weight loosed to drop to its lowest depth. The tension in the air returned despite the precautions, an almighty bomb truly set alight. He brought his arm down as that weight slammed the bottom of its container, rumbling their entire arena like a severely overzealous starting bell, and as that bomb found its shape. “FIGHT!!!”

That crushing aura shattered as Sorrow shot away, unhindered and uninhibited. She careened forward like a missile made of claws and teeth. A resolving perception caught up at last, but Seth couldn’t bring himself to add to his mother's pain. His only choice, dodge!! A sidestepped to the right, but locked face toward her as she reached the end of her chain with a violent taut clang. Sorrow was torn off her feet by her own momentum and flung backward against the weight still tethered to her. The weight that sprang up and beat the foundation again as she scrambled back upright before the reverb could dissipate. She was charging at him from the ground, claws tearing through the sand with total abandon. Seth backpedaled around the edge of the arena, the weight on the chain could slow Sorrow’s movements, but only just. And he couldn’t fight her, not like this. He pulled up his guard and hardened, focused everything into his arms and kept distance. All just to buy time. She found purchase and finally pulled away from the ground, a right claw swiping across his guard. Metal sparked and screeched, but did not give. Her strength was on par... but Seth was stronger now. She swiped again, and again. Outer layers spalling their faintest lost and screaming for all to hear. But still metal did not yield, and still he kept moving back. The edge of the circle was close, plate metal feet danced along its edge, hardened guard reduced to reactionary single arm blocks to find an opening. But Sorrow was having none of it.

A hard left raked Seth’s left away. Another swipe already on the way, a deep right. Sorrow’s swipe eclipsed his opposing guard and grabbed hold. She twisted toward the center, wrestling him off his feet and slamming him onto the ground. Back to sand and front to death. She reared back her left claw pointed straight at his head, bringing it down under a wailing roar, but Seth wasn’t caught out. He crashed his own left up, armored fingers interlocked with claws, tension nearly snapping his arm but stopping her skewers repeating history. Seth clamped down on her claw, keeping it in place. A swift twist off her rebuke, and his grappled right reversed and grappling her right as well. A forceful kick out of a shin and an all or nothing twist, and Sorrow was pulled over off her feet and flung toward the center. She rolled uncontrollably over her chain, collecting rolls as she franticly clawed for purchase. Seth righted himself and pressed the advantage, scooping up slack chain as he rushed after her. Her tumble stopped neck deep in chain, wrapped two layers deep and on her back. She franticly pulled and clawed to be free of it, but it held as Seth piled the slack atop her. A desperate scramble carried him over, trying to keep the chain tight and contain her. He pressed down on a bend, staking it into the ground with his gauntlet. Sorrow struggled in vain, her flailing only adding to her containment. Seth ducked low on her chest and pressed all the weight at his disposal, pressing an elbow down as she kicked up from the ground and tried to claw at him with her talon clad feet. Slowly her predicament seemed to dawn on her as she ceased flailing, an odd calm for a living bomb. Seth looked up from his huddled press, meeting her in those horridly nostalgic eyes, desperate to reach his mom behind them. But he only saw the same look that he’d gotten every time before. The tears were hers, but the rage was truly something else’s.

Suddenly she shifted, pushing the chain binding her taut over her chest, denying Seth's weighted press. She reared back her neck and opened her maw wide, teeth stained by dust and grime long over past due. She chomped down on the chain two widths deep, links nearly shorn off from just the impact. Seth could only watch as she crunched those surviving metal links, welds cracking under the assault. With a final press the chain shattered between her teeth, shards scattering over his helmet and telling him to fucking run! He immediately pushed off to regain position as she forced off the last of the bindings. The fact that Para didn’t call the match as she rose up unhindered by her weight only added to Seth’s dismay. ‘Damnit Speaker! Do we have anything?!’ “We… we have something, we cannot be sure. We would need time and proximity… physical contact.” ‘Good enough!!’ “WAIT!! She will tear you apart if you try to get that close!!” ‘Only if I fail!’

Seth stood his ground, back to the circle’s edge, front to manifest death. Ruts and banks of sand piled up around his feet. Sorrow stared at him with all of the wild overriding hate, sorrowful glare left piecemeal but ever continuous. She stamped a taloned foot down, sand pressed aside in more banks as she menacingly advanced on him. ‘This is the only way.’ Seth redirected his focus, the suit’s stores shifting lower, energizing and adding to his legs. He had to be fast, and he had to focus lower. As Sorrow drew close and loaded up for a truly unhindered lunge, Seth dropped low, scooping a hand into the loosened sand of the arena floor. All those displays and movements had left him plenty to work with. But a simple motion was all it took to set off this monster, no force keeping her locked within the fighting circle’s circumference. Sorrow burst forward, sand trailing talon loosed and maw hungering wide, but at that same moment Seth refuted her freedom. Metal feet dug deep into the sand, push to the side, and scraped against the solid metal floor below. And in the same motion, he catapulted that hand full of sand straight into the over exposed maw seeking to take a chunk out of him. He spun away and skidded across the hidden floor, leaving a sand clogged and blasted Sorrow to tumble away in his wake. He didn’t look back as he dropped both hands down and continued moving. More sand aerosolized by the handful, kicked up from the floor with every scrapping step and thrown over head at every chance. He could feel the floor below him, heavy steel plating so cracks wouldn’t form from impacts. He dragged his metal feet across the surface like a hellish ice rink, but also like his finger across a broken servo. Power flowed from metal foot to metal floor, magnetizing it to his will, but instead of sealing itself together. It would repel outward.

Seth ducked low and dragged his left, coming about and narrowly avoiding a claw across his back. Sorrow was close behind, retaliation with out hesitation, but her eyes were strained and her snout caked. Eternal tears create eternally wet sand. Seth dropped both hands down again and shot them up, shooting a cloud of sand into Sorrow’s face. She recoiled, a little eye and nose irritation was an acceptable attack to his conscience, but it could only do so much. She flailed about, half blind and screeching. Seth took the opportunity and continued circling but knew she was far from inhibited, her sight and smell plenty effected but her hearing was still too good to ignore. Sand was building up in the air around the circle, thick enough to block sight in and out, but it wouldn’t stay for long, and Seth needed time and cover. Despite her frustration, Sorrow stopped short, wiping her eyes clear and blowing hard to clear her snout. Seth, meanwhile, finished his circuit. Coming to a an even stop at his starting point and eyeing a large pile that was left in Sorrow's wake. With a resounding and challenging stomp, he stepped forward. Sorrow stepped out opposite from the obscuring cloud, eyes burning with hate and streaming dusty tears. Tension didn’t have time to manifest as both rushed forward in unison, both racing toward each other with every intention to finally finish this. But Seth stopped short, slid low and reeled back a high and focused right.

As Sorrow lunged one final time, he slammed that right down on the piled sand, smashing through to the steel plate below and ringing it loud and clear. His hit imparted the last of the power needed to turn this circle into a massive repulsive magnet, enough to keep the sand clouds up for the short minute he needed. The slam aerosolized the pile, as well as other loose piles across the ring. A final blast of sand smacked Sorrow off her pounce and caused her to roll to the side. She was up and clearing her eyes again, roaring in anger at the constant irritation and constant refuting. The sand cloud was thick, suspended just barely by the magnetic floor, but Seth didn’t need to hide from her. Stepping into sight, he squared back up, staring back at eyes that seemed to know only pain and hate. With a flick he extended the claws on his gauntlets, hardened them with everything he had. Sorrow splayed her own claws out, intent on tearing into him with everything she had. Frustration too much to keep tension, she immediately careened forward, talons slashing the ground under her, adding more sand to the cloud. Before she could wrap her claws around him, Seth shot his own claws up to meet hers. Claws locked together, force met force as sand was cleared from the air, a shock wave of colliding titans. His bones threatened to snap in half as her full force pressed down, sliding Seth back a step, but he could hold. Sorrow became torrential, hate, rage, pain, and sadness all bearing down without thought or care. Metal holding just barely against the onslaught, but Seth wasn’t going to rely on it. He had to rely on there being something, anything, left of his mother in there, and the only way to get to it was to meet it face to face.

His forehead smacked the emergency release on the inside of the helmet, panels folding back as the heated air inside released. His shock white hair flowed away as he shot his head up, met Sorrow’s hateful gaze with his, and held to that vain hope that his gambit was worth it. Hazel eyes met in opposing expressions. That baleful stare caked in sand shifted, something deep in breaking that all-consuming torrential hate. Seth felt the claws lighten, internal strife weakening her. Then that expression contorted, maw finally closed shut, eyes showed genuine emotion. Recollection, she remembered. “Mom!” Like a dam had suddenly shot into place, Sorrow's claws released their press. The fight sapped out at a single word. Internal strife was still keeping her locked away, but that dam would not hold for long. It needed a final push. Seth took his chance. He pulled his hands free of Sorrow’s, ducked low, and pressed himself into her scaled chest, head held tight against her with everything he had left to muster. ‘MOM!!!’

The arena faded away, bodies falling in on themselves, minds meeting across distance. Sorrow fell away like a cage, and Seth finally saw his mother again. It was like his visit to Tesh III, but existential, slapdash, a lightened space of foggy translation put up in quick succession just so this could be done at all. But clear as day he could see her. Points of light mimicked overgrown and messy dark brown hair that cloaked her. It was her self-image translated, locked away and unable to care for herself. She was confused, looking out at where her cage used to hold her in, the same hazel eyes scanned around her freed mind until they met Seth’s and found their true feelings. “Mom!!” “S-Seth?!” He tried to run to her, wanted to hug her again, to feel like everything that had happened was just a bad dream. But he couldn’t move further toward her. The translation could create the shared space, but could not connect them so easily. Seth felt the Garkah at his back, felt their hesitation and worry at their barely operable creation. Speaker stepped up beside him, trepidation keeping him less than poised. Threat held back, knowing full well what his part in her suffering was. “We need to pull her out of there! Before that thing reasserts control! Tell me you have something!” Speaker looked concerned, but nodded. “Concoctor said it was feasible, but we need to give her the Power first, or else there won't be enough to transfer.”

Seth’s mother worked through her shock, knowing glare pulling over the once suppressed outflow. She hesitated, but stepped up to the expanse that separated her from her son. Eyes falling on Threat with a knowing guilt, like she had seen what he had done and what had been done to him. A feeling that drove him low under her pitying regard. She looked to Speaker, seeing one that seemed to help her son along through his hardship, but understood he was guilty of much of it. Finally she looked back at her son, looked back at Seth’s longing stare, seeing him as the little boy she tried to protect from this. Seth held a hand out, felt the expanse widen against him, but sought to stretch out his own power to her. A stream of light passed between, power transferred and memory given to speed up the process. Seth felt her see what had happened since that awful day, felt her take up that power given with knowing purpose. “She has it, start the-” But Seth was cut short by a blinding aura from his mother.

He could feel an influx, power from outside. She was using it like she knew everything it could do. “What’s she doing?!” Threat knew it immediately. “She’s… going to destroy herself.” “WHAT!?!” He could feel it. The hum of her threading, she was tuning her new power to it, planning to… “MOM!!!” She smiled, tears rolled down her face. Not the tears of eternal sorrow, but tears of happiness, she was free from the prison she had been locked in for so long. But also… she got to see her son grow up and become something more than she ever could have imagined. “It’s okay Seth. It’s okay.” Her voice was almost angelic to him, he could barely remember it before, but hearing it now was… almost too much. “You already saved me as best you could.” “But!!” She lowered her head, held her quickly blinding self-image. “I can still feel her… that thing that locked me away, she’s a part of me. Something neither I, nor anyone, could contain or separate completely. She feeds off my emotions, my pain… my sorrow. But now… there will be nothing left for her to take.” Seth dropped to his knees, the weight too much to take. ”I don’t feel sadness anymore, now that I know you’re safe. That you have friends who care about you. That you are doing what you feel is right.” The aura around her recoiled the Garkah as it intensified but Seth refused to look away, his mother becoming little more than a blinding light across the expanse. Tears welled up as he tried to find words to get her to stop. “Don’t suffer on my account… you saved me, gave me the only key that could truly free me. You shouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of keeping me around. I died that day with everyone else. There is no going back to what came before, only moving forward with what you have. So don’t despair, you freed a trapped soul today… and ended her eternal sorrow all with one word.” The aura finally blinded Seth completely, forcing him to shut his mind’s eyes and bear what was to come. “Don’t despair. I will always be with you. Not as a monster that needs containing, but as a mother, who will always love you.” Seth fell back out of his head, to the arena, to the sand falling over his head, and to… to his mother hugging him… one last time.

Bulky scaled arms that once threatened to tear him to ribbons now wrapped around him, mirrored his hug and pressed him tightly. The warmth was almost unbearable, but he could feel everything through the suit like it wasn't there in the first place. Something he couldn’t help but fight as tears overflowed his eyes... and the pressure lightened. Scales softened, bulk fading, turning to dust under his embrace. She was disintegrating. Not like the laceroids before, not bursting at the seams, but flaking away and disappearing. A permanent smile over her softened maw. Seth recoiled as she finally fell apart, black flakes and dust heaping away to the ground between his hands. Staining them... again. The magnetic field churned the heap, spreading it finer and finer, staining the sand for all to know. All that was left was a black smudge surrounding a heavy chain collar. Seth let his tears stream down his dusted face. The sand wasn’t going to hold for much longer, but it was enough to give him this one last moment. “Goodbye mom…” He snapped the helmet closed, hiding away his demanding emotions, and let the sand fall away to reveal what had transpired, even if it was only half the truth.

Seth turned and looked up as his cover fell away, stared dead at Para with a managed disdain radiating from the suit’s blank gaze. Para, the audience, everyone was speechless. But Para looked like he was expecting something far more violent to occur, something more like the Berta scenario. Instead all he got was a quiet ending to the last holdout of the Laceroid Crisis. And it was driving him livid. The Elite sitting to his left seemed to have more mixed opinions though, but equal surprise. Aegis looked relieved that Seth had made it through, though this fell into concern as the gravity of his actions came back to her. Samurai seemed happy, though he always seemed happy. Maglev and Techno seemed unimpressed, though Technomancer looked more dejected. The pad in his hand was displaying readings he was getting from the fight, and it seemed to have been blocked out by the sand. Hothead looked pissed, almost jealous even. Guess he wanted to kill Sorrow himself. Ziyou looked impressed at least, though she seemed more into the prospects than the outcome. She really like to fight. Erdwut though seemed… well he doesn’t show emotion much, but he looked almost annoyed. His intense hatred of the Laceroids was very much known, so maybe he didn’t like the implication that the last one had been killed by a trainee with a powersuit. The whispers from the crowd began to draw Seth back, they grew in volume as people started to question what even happened. Did he win, did he cheat, wasn’t Sorrow important? All the while Para was growing too perturbed to keep quiet.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!! Quiet please! …As I said before… this was not meant to be a public execution!!” Para locked eyes with Seth, unmoved by the assertions, but still couldn’t help feel the dust staining his hands. “That Sorrow would be killed today was something we had not planned for! Though some of you would see this as a good thing, the ending of an era of pain, her continued existence allowed us to study what had occurred those many years ago! It gave us insight into how those creatures even existed in the first place! Her death ends those pursuits!" A twisting glare finally cleared his livid tone. "And her death seemed to come too easy at that. This… is a troubling turn of events.” Para had calm his dismay, a contemplative disquiet looking to turn this result around. “Due to the nature of this… win, I will leave the decision up to the judges on whether this was enough to secure ‘Tinman’s’ graduation!” Para swept a hand to the left, toward the Elite sitting next to his podium. Aegis looked up at Para in surprise, looking back at the rest of her team. Seth couldn’t hear, but assumed the Elite’s judge status was not preplanned. They all seemed to shift their demeanors at this announcement though, probably happy at the implication they get to curate the rest of the graduates. Para reasserted attention before any verdict could be ascertained. “But that will have to come later, we have 12 more graduates to challenge! Rest assured we will have a ruling in time! Until then, let the fights continue!!”