Seth had deflated from what little triumph he felt at completing his ‘challenge’. A numb crater was cut out of his chest, his grip tightened of its own accord, all the tears on his face swiftly dried away as his power flared with his transient anger. It wasn't bad enough to force him to face his past, but to not even accept the outcome that was necessary... it killed the hope he'd built up till now. Though he had to keep this all down, keep the façade, no matter how much he wanted to turn Para to a paste smear. He trudged out of the circle toward the protected bench and the rest of the trainees. Aegis lowered her shield covering it, letting him walk in from the open sides and sit down on the left end. The stone bench creaked under the weight now set upon it, but it held. His helmet hollowly clanked back against the wall, his enthusiasm shattered utterly and tossed aside like trash.

At the very least... he got to meet his mom one last time. But before he could cut the world away for a bit of peace, for a moment of calm, he remembered. He still had his mother’s scarf. He picked his back up, clicked the release and opened up the panel, a slight hiss of heated air releasing in response. He went to reach in, but stopped as he noticed. His hand was still caked in black, still covered in his mother’s dust. That needed suppression strained, more constant reminders, more unneeded pain. But quick grab and turn of the gauntlet drove that etching darkness away. The stained sheen clattered beside him as his bare hand reached in... and felt the soft fabric against his fingers. Felt his mother’s warmth on it, like she had just given it to him, like all this really was just a bad dream gone on too long. He blinked... and the fantasy faded. It was just heated by his power usage. But it still felt nice to remember something better for a change. He pulled it out and unfurled it, wrapping it around his neck and letting it drape forward. Now it really was all that’s left of his old life, a final relic of… of a time he could only really get back in vague feelings. Disparate pieces chunked together by similar emotions, most too tainted and forgotten to help him find solace in a past before all of this. But just enough to at least help him know he did what needed to be done. He put his gauntlet back on sat back against the hard stone. The fights were going to start regardless of his existential gloom.

“Alright Ladies and Gentlemen!! It’s time for the true heavy hitters to show their stuff!! First up, we have a match born of pure skill and martial prowess. A clash that has awaited this moment for far too long. For your hero to be I give you… KAZE!!!” Seth snapped out of his gloom a bit, but didn’t even see Kaz leave the bench as he stood beside it. “And his challenger!! MAKANI SAMURAI!!!” Suddenly sea grass green robes flowed swiftly down as he dropped from the stands onto the arena floor opposite, right next to Seth. He turned solemnly and nodded to him, one hidden grief to another. The slight uptick of kindred depression pulled him off the wall, but he wasn't going to have much peace anyway. The other trainees were also picking up, eager to watch this fight knowing full well that Para was grievously underselling it.

As Samurai and Kaz began to take their places, both seemed to become more and more stoic with every step. They had planned and prepared for this fight for a long time. This was Kaz’s final test after all, so why wouldn’t it be his father who challenged him. Though Seth felt something more in between these two, like this was more than just a test. Whatever this feeling was, it was going to have to come through the only medium available now. Sword vs Sword. In the circle, both stood across designated lines, the hardlight array flashing up to display proper marks for a fight like this. Both stood completely still, arms at their sides and flat footed, bereft of emotion. An almost unnerving thing given Samurai's constant demeanor.

The audience was hushed as the display held, no one knew when the fight would start, how it would start. And no one wanted to break this apprehension and spoil the moment. So of course Para had to interject like an asshole, again! “For those wondering what the rules of this fight will be… Well, the only ones who could decide this battle are on the field already. The only thing I get to do is say when they can start.” The audience, the trainees, most everyone groaned at Para’s breaking of their anticipation. Though Samurai seemed to let slip a small smirk, maybe not fully able to hold back his enjoyment. A genuine feeling to top it off, nothing hidden to save face.

Both fighters regained attention by continuing their pre combat ritual. They bowed to each other, hands still locked to their sides. Once out of their bow they finally took up fighting stances, moving in perfect symmetry of one another. Right hand gripping scabbard, left hovering over handle. Backs straight as boards, but their footing giving away their intentions. Both had dropped their right back, still in complete unison, preparing to charge forward. The apprehension returned, now doubled in pressure. Everyone eyed back and forth between them, holding in their breath for the first strike to be struck, the grumbling at Para dying down as he finally raised his hand in respectful slowness. He panned back and forth between fighters, drawing it out as much as he felt he could get away with, before waming down with an echoing- “FIGHT!!!”

The first strike was over before that echo even reverberated, both swordsmen suddenly in opposite places on the arena floor. The only thing satisfying all that anticipation was the impression of a saturating clang in everyone’s ears. Seth didn’t even catch everything that happened, only the barest frame of a flash of steel. Both fighters remained in unison, Kaz now of the left and Samurai on the right, until Samurai broke his stoicism to smile with pride. “You’re certainly keeping up with me, but only just.” Suddenly a slight shift in Kaz’s robe, a small cut at the right shoulder. Not deep enough to cut skin, but close, very close. Close enough to split a fine hair in half. Kaz looked over and back with concern, but not defeat, instead he met his father’s prideful smile with his own more reserved one. Suddenly a shift in Samurai’s robe, the same shoulder, the exact same cut. He looked down at his arm, surprise mixed with fatherly pride. And then he started to laugh. “Hahaaa Very well then, we are equal in skill. Let this be a battle of attrition then.”

With a slow smooth motion Samurai pulled his sword free from its scabbard with his left hand, the arena lights reflecting off it like a lensed mirror, metal ringing its freedom. He held it sideways, edge facing his son, before twisting it upright. Right holding it tight to that shoulder. Kaz followed suit, but broke the unison. He pulled the sword free with his left still, metal singing its part, but kept low and underhanded. With an equally smooth motion he shifted it to his left hip, moving his right to the free end of the handle.

The short lived tension came and went as a burst of sand replaced Kaz in his position. He'd shot forward, sword swinging up toward the expected downward reaction. Samurai for his part remained in place, letting gravity and weight add to that expected strike. Kaz’s swing was off balance, outmatched by additional forces, but that was his plan. As the metal rung again, Kaz stymied his swing, feet leaving the ground and grip shifted around. His sword became an axis. All the power and additions Samurai put into his strike were transferred to his as he let himself get knocked airborne. Kaz’s right foot came in on Samurai’s face as the two blades cut the ground, just barely dodging back and shifting his own grip to turn his blade upright. But this proved harder as Kaz’s foot stamped onto the blade as it turned sideways. He pivoted off his sword and stamped the other foot, full weight killing any swift reaction. With a forceful right hand shove, he freed his sword from underneath his father’s and swung it upward again. It was backwards, but it still held enough danger.

But Samurai’s reaction was far from stymied. His right gave up its hold and moved to the other scabbard on his hip, pulling up a smaller blade, the one meant for defense. Flashed in with no fanfare, meeting Kaz’s dull edge just short of his shoulder. Both swordsmen locked eyes for a beat, the jovial atmosphere was gone completely. Then Kaz relinquished his position, leaping back and adding distance, sword pointed and high on his shoulder. Samurai pulled his main sword up from the ground, whipping it out to clear the sandy sandal prints from its surface. He also moved his short sword out to his right in a slower yet similar fashion, though he seemed less than pleased he was forced to use it already. Kaz reacted in kind though, drooping his sword down and shifting it down to his right side. He relinquished his left grip and pulled out his own short sword, mirroring his father in stance.

There was no time for apprehension to build again before Samurai was on the attack, charging forward with both blades left to fall in line at his sides. Kaz hesitated, he knew something. Before Samurai reached him he leapt up with one foot and swung his whole body around. But his blades seemed to not follow in kind, stuck in their original momentum at his sides. Kaz finally reacted, pushing his foot out and bringing both swords up, pointed down, to meet an attack at his left. As Samurai rounded his turn, he was swinging both blades around, somehow grabbing them in opposite hands along his twist. All four blades impacted together, a symphonic pound sign reverberated the arena and dazzling the audience. Kaz was pushed back, leaving room for his father to complete his spin and rake the reverb away.

He swung about and landed on his other foot, long blade in his right pointed at Kaz, short one in his left and sideways over top. Kaz shifted his stance with his recoil, flipping his blades up on his grip. He held his long blade up and sideways on the right, but his short blade low and pointed by his left side, like he intended a proper stabbing. Both swordsmen attacked simultaneously, only charging in unison. Both shifted their angles of attack. Samurai pulled his long sword back in order to jab forward, Kaz shifted his shoulder, but didn’t budge from his stance. Samurai left his left in place, a stern guard ready for anything. Under it all Kaz flip his short grip into a downward stab hold, but kept it low. As they reached each other Samurai loosed his jab, the flashing steel almost outpacing its own image. He twisted it mid jab, edge inward. The force from it almost blowing a sideways tornado into being.

But Kaz was ready for it, shifting his grip underhanded to match his shoulder. His long blade came up, but turned to meet Samurai’s jab, edge out and angled toward him. The jab glanced off, curved point ramping off slanted edge. Sparks flew as metal roared, twirling around passed Kaz’s shoulder as the blade was blocked away. Through the twirling sparks Kaz brought his short blade up to stab. Samurai moved his short blade to block, a similar ramp to glance the blade away. But Kaz twisted in his movement, bringing the blade in near perfect parallel alignment with his father’s. He stabbed hard, but suddenly the blade was free of his grip. Both blades running parallel, reflecting and amplifying their insistent glare. Kaz had aimed his blade for the skeletal cross guard on both blade’s handles. As his blade slipped in through the space in the guard, Samurai’s hand relinquished its grip of the blade, can’t be much of a swordsmen without fingers after all. A near perfect mirror, Samurai’s blade slipped into the opposing space on Kaz’s blade. They locked and slammed together, flipping end over end passed Samurai’s reeling shoulder.

Distraction successful, Kaz shifted his free left to his original blade, palm hard against the guard. Samurai was still dealing with the fact his own son just threw his short sword at him, only too late seeing what had actually been done. Kaz stepped closer and pushed up with both hands, edge raking up edge until it met guard. Samurai’s jab was too tight on his arm and forceful for his grip. His hand was twisted by his sword pressing against it, loosed just enough. With a forceful repose, Kaz released his own sword and catapulted both reflective edges into the air.

Both fighters were disarmed, but Samurai still had the upper hand. His free left balled in a fist and raised itself high, set to strike down his son. Kaz’s follow through cut short as he shifted back toward his father, his own left held high. He didn’t look up to see the attack coming for him, it was an afterthought. Kaz put his other foot down, launching into Samurai, left held in line with his head. Both looked to be attacking in unison again, but still Kaz was faster... by just the barest hesitant sliver. It was over, Kaz was going to finally hit first, finally end this fight, but... that left flew passed Samurai’s head without even trying to strike. Instead it wrapped around his father’s right shoulder. His low right wrapping around his side. Samurai recoiled as Kaz’s head pressed into his shoulder, the force knocking the wind from his attempted slam down. It wasn't a strike Kaz was attempting... it was a hug. Seth wasn’t expecting that... the crowd weren’t expecting that… Samurai was definitely not expecting it. His hesitation was boiling over, left still balled up but unable to loose. And something was catching in his throat… 'Wait… is he-'

“WWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAHAAAA” Like an emotional damn bursting, Samurai started crying, tears flooding down his face like he’d never cried a day in his entire life. His arms fell to his side, all energy and fight sapped away. ‘Sheesh was he holding this much sadness back this whole time?!’ The audience was dumbfounded, the ever smiling Makani Samurai was balling his eyes out like Sorrow was… No, this was way different. For one, Seth could hear Para gloating to the other Elite members. “I TOLD you!! No one is that happy all the time. NO ONE!!” And on the other… these tears had real meaning behind them, not just frozen and forced emotion. Samurai finally calmed enough to look down and hug his son back, like he’d been unable to before. ‘I guess he’d been holding his emotions about losing his wife at bay. That could not have been healthy. But… it’s certainly releasing now.’ The other trainees looked mixed, but understood what was going on. A few, mostly David, teared up as well. Seth was starting to feel jealous about not getting this kind of reaction for his fight, but only held it facetiously. Besides… this was their moment.

As Samurai finally calmed down to the point of comprehensibility he pulled his son off and looked him in the eye, pride and love showing through the still concerningly streaming tears. He grabbed his son's arm, turning him around toward the podium and the main audience and pulling it up high for everyone to see. Though this seemed a pretty damn subjective ruling, it laid its message bare, and Seth sure as shit wasn't going to complain about it. In fact he had cheered up from all this second hand catharsis, standing up and slamming his plated hands together in a full metal clap before anyone else could even try to react. The rest of the audience followed suit, the startled trainees followed as well Seth snapped his helmet open, new happier tears shining on his beaming face.

Para finally shook away his ‘told you so’ to retake his position among the applause. “Ladies and Gentlemen… I give you SHIMAKAZE!!!” The trainees started cheering louder, but all stopped completely in the tracks. All of them simultaneously looked up toward the podium above them, all of blaring the same feeling. "That motherfucker." Para looked down on them, a wry smile that read loud and clear that “If you want your hero names, you have to earn them”. The trainees glared up, wicked smiles of renewed determination set against Para. All except- ‘…Fuck!!! I never came up with a hero name!’

“Next on the docket we have a fiery duel between applied thermodynamics and raw fire power!!” Para didn’t leave much room between fights, announcing the next challenge as Kaz and his dad were still leaving the circle. Kaz returned to the bench while Samurai leapt back up to the stands, a renewed smile on his face that covered nothing but the joy he was feeling, and maybe a bit of dehydration. As Kaz sat down to his fellow trainee’s congratulations, Kabar stood up to ready for his fight. “Ladies and Gentlemen… Toaster!!” Kabar walked out into the arena floor, turning around to mean eye Para at the hopefully final utterance of that nickname. He took his position in the circle and readied, the massed catharsis finally calming and putting people back in their seats. Seth kept his helmet off and laid back in exacerbation still trying to think of a name, but that was going to have to wait. “And his challenger… ehem… I mean challengers!!” Kabar snapped up, expectations thwarted. ‘Ugh... How fucking original.’ The central shutter door the trainees entered from opened, a new spotlight illuminating four figures entering the arena. It was Kabar’s trainers. Cauterizer, Dr. Kallinikos, Friction Sweep, and Phoenix Tech. They all walked out in unison, stopping at the edge of the central circle with a proud air about them.

As Para moved to announce again he stopped suddenly. *bwoo* Seth looked up to see Hothead grabbing up Para’s mic away and leaping into the arena to join the others. “All right people listen up…!! This fight is more than just a graduation, a culmination of hard work! This fight is a baptism, a ritual all fire heroes must go through! A test only we can administer, and only we can judge! Our newest initiate ‘KABAR!!’ will undertake a test of the 4 main elements of firepower! Heat, Saturation, Utilization, and Martial prowess! Not strictly in that order, but you get the idea. Each of our challengers here are masters in these elements, so it’s fair to say we can’t just set them all on him at once! Thus Kabar’s challenge is simple!” Hothead, put down the mic and leveled a hand at Kabar who recoiled knowing full well what it could do. Hothead deftly moved his hand in a circle, causing a ring of arena sand to ignite around Kabar, one noticeably smaller than the official ring. “He must knock each of his challengers out of this ring of fire! Though in Phoenix’s case he must be knocked to the ground as well, it’s only fair. Getting knocked out himself isn’t a detriment, his safe zone is the full circle! But every time he is knocked out… a challenger returns or is sent in!” Hothead turned to Kabar, hand still out maintaining the fiery boundary. “You understand!?” Kabar took a breath, probably his last cool one for a while, and nodded. Hothead smiled wickedly and turned back to Para, tossing him the microphone. Para wasn’t impressed, but at least he kept some of his job. He raised his hand again, only slightly reveling in the tension. He let out a defeated sigh and threw his hand down. “Fight!!”

The fire ring flared up, putting out enough heat to invalidate the protection in front of the bench and flinch the stands back. It only slightly dimmed to allow Cauterizer in first. No doubt the heat of the ring was worse inside. Cauterizer took his place opposite Kabar, putting his hands up in a grappling stance. “Alright K, let’s see who's heat is stronger.” Suddenly his hands began to glow like forged metal, getting white hot at the palm. Kabar stood his ground and took a stable stance, thermal cords heating up in sequence toward his hands. Cauterizer struck before it fully ignited, charging in with both his hands open and ready to grab. Kabar could do little more than meet his grab with his own. Both fighters slammed together, locked hands in a pushing match, the heat from both sweeping over the fire ring and adding to the already stifling atmosphere.

Kabar finished heating his lines, but struggled to keep up with Cauterizer. Why he was chosen for the heat challenge and not the martial one confused Seth. But he remembered a little about Cauterizer, he wasn’t strictly a fire hero, he was a combat medic. He had to control the way he used his powers in order to both heal and fight. Kabar seemed to understand this as well, this wasn’t really about higher temperatures, it was about strength of control. Flames spouted from between their hands, Cauterizer was pressing his control advantage by threatening to burn through Kabar’s hands. Kabar reacted by ceasing to heat his cords and focusing heat into his feet. The relatively cooled lines contracted and hardened, creating a stiff exoskeleton Kabar used to maintain his position. Simultaneously he poured heat into his feet, the sand under his sole seemed to burn more readily than the rest, despite all of it basically being baked to a crisp by the ambient firestorm. Once he was ready, he heated sections of his cord exoskeleton and pulled backward hard, pulling the both of them over. His feet shot up quickly to Cauterizer chest as he flared the his hands in a single sudden burst, a wave of over stocked flames staunching the baking grip for the second he needed. As Cauterizer fell forwards he was blinded by the jets of fire, not able to react to the explosive kick Kabar loosed at his chest. On contact the superheated soles exploded, sending him flying out over the fire ring and into the sand on the other side. Kabar reignited his cords and kicked back up as Cauterizer sat up, two burned in shoe prints on his costume and a dejected look of someone who has to pay tailoring costs for custom fireproof clothing… again. Hothead drew closer to the ring. “1 down, 3 to go.”

Friction Sweep stepped up next, a clear contender for the martial prowess master. As she passed over the dimmed fire ring she swung up her matchstick nunchucks, striking them up in a fire dancer style display. Over her right shoulder, under her right arm, across to the left and repeat. The speed of her swings increased with every rotation, her ignited nunchucks becoming little more than a solid glowing blur. The wind force subjected to them was increasing their heat as well, more air equals more oxygen to burn. Kabar kept his position, getting too close meant getting knocked across the face before he could even react. He waited for her to make the first move, hoping to catch her out, a loosened line subtly heating up in his right hand. But, out of nowhere, an arc of flame blasted out of Friction’s display, careening out at his right. He dodged, but that was definitely not the only attack. Suddenly more blasted out, every time she dragged the tail end of the nunchuck out and let it swing free in front of her a blast of flame was shot away in its wake.

Like a fiery rhythm game, Kabar was forced to dodge every which way. Two on his left, one high across the top, another two on the right. A set pattern, easy to- ‘Oh shit they just doubled up!’ Now the pattern jumped the cross over and put two sides out at near the same time, her speed increasing even more. Kabar was doing everything he could to dodge, but it was only a matter of time. A duck left dodged the right and top shots, a quick right dodge to avoid the left, then back left… straight into the second left that trailed the first. The flames washed over him, his thermal cord lighting up as it passed over him. His arm blocked most of it and he held his footing, but one hit led to another. And another. And Another!

Kabar was stuck as Friction began aiming straight at him, pattern be damned. He was battered by the flame blasts but was holding on. Few options left, he shot back his right, left stuck up and blocking for everything it was good for. The line in his hand flew back, out of the fire ring. Friction saw this and advanced, the fire at her back getting pulled along as she drew away. She was practically sucking up all the air in the ring with her routine. It looked to be having an effect as well, Kabar’s breathing was haggard. But the end of the line outside the ring was burning red, no, white hot. The cord was burning as well, taking up the ring’s heat. Before Friction could close the distance, Kabar suddenly whipped his right hand down hard causing a chain reaction along the outstretched line. Small explosions added more force as the line twisted over itself several times, picking up speed as the twist reached the ring. And when it hit- ‘Holy Shit!! The ring parted!’ A howling tunnel of air from outside rush through, and Kabar took a deep breath of it. But quickly the fires that washed over him were sucked away, a backdraft. All of Friction’s built up fire and air current were pulled away as a gout of fire shot out of the parted ring. Her routine was stopped dead. She panicked and tried to strike up her matchsticks again, but Kabar was already pulling his right over, pulling his superheated line back in and whipping it into her face. The superheated end tapped her on the forehead and exploded, sending her tumbling back out of the ring. Kabar collapsed, gasping at fresh air again as Friction skidded to a stop outside the full circle. Knocked out… well ‘cold isn’t the word I would use.’ Hothead took another step closer. “2 down, 2 to go.”

Kabar groaned up as Dr. Kallinikos entered the ring, without waiting for it to dim. He was definitely the odd one of this group, not just because he was basically a fire elemental living in a suit. “Saturation is a simple concept, a balancing act between having enough fire to-” “You already told me this! Why won’t you go see a psychiatrist already? Your memory sucks!” Kabar looked exacerbated, this was definitely not the first time. The doctor didn’t seem off put by the interruption, but rather ominously pulled up the flamethrower at his side. “Very well then, let the test commence.” There's something really horrifying about someone calmly using a flamethrower, so watching a gout of blue flame come from someone who talked like a lecturing professor was only going to make this feeling worse. Kabar stood his ground as the blue gout whooshed over the entire condensed ring. It didn’t seem to be anything worse than Friction’s flames, but Kabar wasn’t about to just sit back and bake again.

Off the spray he charged forward, blue fire stuck to bits of his thermal cord. The doctor let his thrower drop, still a really unnerving calm about him as he slowly raised his free hand... in a locked snap. Kabar skidded to a halt before crossing the center of the ring, he knew what was up. He franticly looked around, looking at the spaced out spots of flame on the ground… the very evenly patterned spots of flame. He froze, he looked down at the spot he was in, no fire, just the bits he brought in to it. He looked up as Dr. Kallinikos snapped. The small flames stuck to his cords flared up, as did a few of the other flames in the pattern. Kabar acted quickly though, sapping the heat from his cords causing them to take in the heat from the fires on them. It wasn’t much but it was enough to avoid the worst of the resulting mass conflagration. A checker pattern of blue fire pillars shot up over the ring, with only a single pillar left below the rest, his.

The pillars died down, the flames in their spots burned out and empty. Kabar was hunched over and obviously toasted a little. He pulled himself back up, worse for wear but still conscious. Dr. Kallinikos still didn’t react to a serious degree. “Very good, you diminished my flames before conflagration. But remember, saturation is-” “SHUT THE HELL UP!!!” Kabar spread his arms out forcefully but pulled them back in just as quickly, a distortion in the air in front of him signaling he was prepping a heat blast. The doctor releveled his flamethrower, but Kabar was quicker. With a hard grab and a massive pull back, he slammed the ball of heated air in his hands into the ground, sending a shockwave over the ring. The remaining flames were buffeted by a wave of sand, as was the doctor. Kabar took his chance and charged again.

Dr. Kallinikos was knocked off his original attack, but was undeterred, raising his flamethrower again. Kabar reached him just as he put finger to trigger. With a quick spin, Kabar stole the thrower from him, pushing him away with his momentum and a back shove. The connecting hose stretched as the doctor was knocked to the ground, but Kabar wasn’t done. He whipped the thrower around toward jim, but pointed it over at the fire ring. He pulled the trigger and let loose a continuous gout of flame through the ring.

The doctor tried to get up, but seemed to sag as he did, Kabar was shooting him out of the arena. After a few seconds of spraying, the suit he inhabited finally fell empty. Kabar dropped the thrower on the suit and kicked the lot of it through the ring. With a severely exacerbated sigh, Kabar slumped back and forth. He pulled himself up to prepare for his next fight, but came face to face with an articulating blue fire sticking itself through the ring. “There is no need to be rude. Everyone needs a refresher sometimes.” Kabar started to pull at his singed hair. “THIS WAS THE 18th TIME THIS WEEK!!!” “…Well you still don’t need to be rude.” “AAAhhh!!” Kabar turned away from the wall, not wanting to deal with the sentient yet repetitive fire monster trying to teach him the fundamentals of his own power set. He was definitely haggard now, cords burned, hair singed, and no doubt some degree of soot in his lungs. Hothead took another step, practically touching the fire ring he was maintaining. “Only 1 to go Kabar! Finish strong!!”

Kabar took back up his position at the other side of the ring, wheezing heavy breaths in hopes of recentering himself. The ring did not dim though, in fact it increased in intensity. Vision in and out was blocked as the walls towered higher. Over the roarous breathing of the fires though came an intensifying whir, like a jet engine starting up. Seth had to coopt a camera in the stands again to see what was going on. It was Phoenix Tech charging up, gaining altitude over a technicolor explosion of exhaust. He steadied himself with his hands, short bursts to maintain his orientation, while the ports on his legs gained him momentum and built up force. Finally, like a rocket lifting off, he gained purchase against gravity and shot away from the ground. He flew up above the ring, a rainbow of flames in his wake. He stared down on Kabar. “Let’s see who’s got the better utilization and end this whole show!!” He back flipped, cutting his jets and fell passed the fire wall, intent on striking out from cover.

Kabar readied himself, pulled heat from his cords to harden them up and listened for Phoenix’s jets to light up again. The whoosh of throttling up came from the right, Kabar ducked just as Phoenix shot through the fire surrounding him. It was high, probably a scouting shot, but Phoenix didn’t sit idle on it. Immediately as he exited the wall he folded and flared his jets to stop and shot back in. Lower this time, buzzing Kabar by a few feet. He repeated, changed sides, increased his speed, pinballing through the ring so as to not give Kabar a chance to lock down where he was going to strike from. One more pass, but this time he entered low, almost at Kabar’s level. He entered fast with his palms down, a massive jet of multicolored fire spewing forth. Kabar dodged back, avoiding a line of multicolored fire cutting through the center of the ring. Another pass, another line. He was cutting his maneuvering room with each pass. But Kabar didn’t look scared, he could see his chance. If he was looking to cut his space up then he had to pass right over him eventually.

As Phoenix crossed again Kabar ducked down in feigned fear, but really he heated his cords, his soles, he was going to lift off. Phoenix turned outside the ring, lined up opposite with Kabar’s only position. Kabar loosened his lines, but superheated sections of the cord along his back for some reason. Finally Phoenix blasted forward, flying low with his arms out in an effort to grab Kabar and throw him out. But as he broke the ring, Kabar leapt, an explosion jettisoning him up, lines spooling out as he ascended. Drag lines like a barrage balloon, but Phoenix wasn’t some hapless greenhorn. He turned sideways to pass right between them, avoiding the obvious superheated spots meant to blow as he made contact. But it wasn’t so simple. When Phoenix was too close to avoid, Kabar sprung his real trap.

The spots on the lines exploded, propelling the lines inward as Phoenix crossed between them. They wrapped around him and hardened, heat sapped to lock them in place. But just being locked on to him wasn’t enough, he could drag Kabar out with his momentum alone. So he yanked with everything he had overhead and set off the spots on his back, all at once. A counter force to Phoenix’s velocity, now redirected. He was caught, but his jets were still firing, he was just pointed up now, and under Kabar’s influence now. A few more explosions, more one shot retrorockets to steady and align the massive hammer down he had created. Phoenix cut his jets, but it was too late. The human shaped rocket hammer him down into the middle of the ring with all the momentum he had built up turned against him. Sand and dust exploded out, dousing most of the rainbow fire he had spread as Kabar landed back down, hard. Stumbling back up, Kabar wobbled over the crater he made.

Phoenix was out of it, but not defeated yet. Kabar grabbed the collar of his suit and dragged him over to the wall of fire in front of him. He struggled, but had enough strength left to toss Phoenix out of the ring alongside the other fighters. As he passed through, the ring extinguished, Hothead on the ball and beaming at him. A truly haggard and burned mess, Kabar watched him whip around at Para’s podium and point, the message loud and clear. “Ladies and Gentlemen… I give you… THERMODYNAMIC!!!” Kabar shakily smiled and raised his fist, a loose line still trailing it. Before he could raise it all the way he collapsed, right into the arms of Hothead and Cauterizer, the only two trainers that still had consciousness or corporeal to even catch him. The trainees, the audience, even Seth stood up to applaud as Kabar was carried off the floor to rest off his hard won fight. Seth was even feeling better, a little second catharsis and a few intense fights clearing the slump he had been left in. ‘But, let’s hope that’s the last of the heavy stuff. I’m starting to feel jipped by all this.’

“To continue with our showdowns, let us watch a true one on one fight of pure hand to hand skill. First up, let me introduce… Tabby!!!” On cue she sat up and walked out into the arena, nerves and excitement in equal measure bobbing her step. “And her challenger… ZIYOU!!!” The audience absolutely erupted as yet another of the Elite stepped down from the stands onto the sand, her popularity pretty easy to see, and hear. Seth flinched slightly at the sudden cacophony. But he accepted the energy, he'd never really gotten to see her fight in a serious fashion this close before. Tabby though seemed a little less than enthused. Hell, down right scared. She wasn’t a bad fighter, but putting her up against the martial arts master of the Elite was a little insane. “The rules are simple!!” Para of course cared little for her hesitation. “First to ring the other out wins!! Special consideration has been made though, Ziyou has stipulated that she will not use her powers in this fight!!” ‘If only that meant much… wait… What he fuuuck!?’ The audience grumbled along, she rarely ever used her powers to begin with and the prospect drove a lot of the excitement that now was left deflated.

“Fighters ready!!” Tabby seemed to understand her almost complete ignoring and desperately psyched herself up as she stanced at the edge of the circle. “Set!!” Ziyou squared up opposite, eyes belying none of her excitement to finally be in the action. She's always been known to be a bit of a-“FIGHT!!!” Immediately she charged, sand blasting back as a heavy punch tore toward Tabby’s face. A desperate duck dodged the fist, but a quick guard only just stopped the other three. Ziyou beat against her toughened furry arms, three hits recoiling off balance. Three more hit, and three more, like burst fire from a rifle. Each one adding to the angle her back was at. But a clawed paw dug hard into the sand and kept Tabby in the line. A pull back from Ziyou gave her the only chance she, and she took it.

Claws retracted and she pulled under one final burst, twirling around and into the more spacious center. Just as she found her breathing space though, a wanton leg came screaming around after her. Ignoring her own balance, Ziyou slammed her shin into Tabby’s chest. The impact knocked out her breath, but not her fight. Claws folded tight up over the leg and grabbed hold, but… this was the expected move. Tabby was caught off guard again as that leg spun and weighed down on her, and the other leg swung about into head. A combine kick. She was slammed to the ground as Ziyou spun off her momentum like a toppled top next to her.

Fluffy hands pressed to against her regally bashed face, but quickly rounded about to pull her back up to face her opponent. A low hissing growl met Ziyou’s boastful smile. It was time for a real fight. But this time Tabby was on offence. Scrambling forward, she swiped at Ziyou’s supporting arms, missing as she spun back up over her. A swift step and knee though caught her mid spin, stopping her in the guarding arm. A wide swipe slammed down on her guard from the other side, both now propping each other up. Until Tabby slipped her knee down and batted wide with the other hand, slamming Ziyou in the unguarded face. Both stumbled back up, the serious smile smacked on to Ziyou’s face said all that was needed.

Tabby reflexively guarded as she burst forward, another burst of rifle punches, but a set of hands quickly grabbed hold of and pulled her guard away. Ziyou pulled her leg up and over as she pulled Tabby down by the arms, kick aimed square at her head, but markedly slower than she could have struck. Slow enough for Tabby to pull her head to the side and dodge, and counterattack. A little too… intensively. Ziyou winced as her leg was suddenly chomped down on and pulled around. The pain wasn’t enough to illicit a response, but she wasn’t a fan of being rebuked. Tabby found her head twisted a little as Ziyou pulled herself up and lined another kick. With little choice but to take it, Tabby pulled hard upward on Ziyou’s leg, yanked her hands free, and… let go.

Ziyou’s kick slammed hard into Tabby’s chest, kicking her off as Tabby’s claws dug into the sand. She flew off as Tabby fell back hacking, but only saw too late that she’d over done it. Twisting as much as she could, she couldn’t stop herself from falling feet first out of the ring. Serious expression turned to disappointed pouting at technical loss. Tabby flopped back, smile across her face and hands shakily raised as the crowd understood what had happened. “Ladies and Gentlemen!!” And as Para made himself known again. “I give you… KALEIDOCAT!!!” The audience cheered, though was muted slightly as the enthusiasts grumbled their frustrations. Seth wasn’t mad though, practically giggling to himself. ‘Heh heh Can’t fault a technicality.’

Graduation continued on afterward, just with less heavy hitters smacking around their trainees. David finally earned his title of Aquanaught after fighting not just his two trainers, but his mother as well. Seth’s ears were still ringing from the egregious sonic attacks she used. David’s control was sufficient to keep Aquafirma at bay and his armor worked great against Depthcharge’s melee heavy repertoire. But both were in turn detrimental against his mother’s attacks, sound waves carrying through the water with increased intensity. He only ended up winning by taking control away from Aquafirma, using his body to create a massive surge of water that knocked all three challengers out of the ring. Thankfully he reformed, otherwise this would have been a real issue.

Zeleny and Jacob were forced to tag team fight their trainers, Phazer Shock and Glacial Glaz. The resulting laser show narrowly burned several holes in the arena wall. Zeleny’s rainbow beam was an equal match for Phazer’s photon cannon apparently, and Glaz’s more refined ice constructs slowed Jacob down before he could close the distance. The fight though took a series of turns when Phazer and Glaz started using their combo attack, an ice lens that Phazer shot through to amplify her beams. Zeleny had to hit her absolute again just to keep the intensified beam from blasting her out. ‘I didn’t even think lasers could impact like that.’ Jacob came in clutch though, throwing his axe at the lens and tilted it down before the strain became too much. Zeleny’s barely countering beam found its leverage over Phazer’s enhanced one and hit the lens in reverse. She quickly toned down the intensity, but not before the beam rainbow blasted both challengers back and out of the ring. Zeleny received the name Rainbow Storm, while Jacob took up the mantle of Frost Fighter.

Razor faced the music and found himself fighting both Blade Tone and Needle, the retention of the former being finally made clear. The fight was scary to say the least of it. Where Kaze’s… ‘Ehem, Shimakaze’s’ fight was a battle of skilled swordsmen, this was one skilled sword fighter and a living pincushion vs an amateur. Razor took some close hits, only avoiding getting cut and stabbed by liberal use of his armor abilities. He finally found his footing though by keeping Needle between him and Blade Tone, whose sweeping attacks were a hard sell in close proximity to her sharp exterior. In the end Razor found his bravery and gave up fighting conventionally. He threw down his blades, armored up, and charged into Needle as Tone fought for spacing. Both couldn't react in time before the former was threatening to skewer the latter, Tone fleeing without thinking of the consequences. Namely ringing himself out. Razor just had to push Needle the rest of the way and he'd won his challenge. He finally earned the right to be called Razor, though Seth suspected he was just as unprepared as he was when it came to hero names.

Maya was pitted against her trainer Strata, somewhat of a theme developing already here, but instead of a direct fight each were pitted against each other in a building duel. Maya wasn’t as mad as expected, but this was yet again an attack on her preferences. Each would build defenses that the other would assault with increasingly heavy stones. Strata built a castle of sandstone, emptying much of the arena floor. Maya wasn’t left with much, but realized the challenge didn’t specify material constraints. She dug deep and the metal flooring below the arena up from under the remaining sand, surprising quite a few people, Strata included. She formed… punched walls into shape from it and used the last of the arena’s sand to build her small fortress behind it. She won handily as all Strata’s attacks bounced off and hers were able to weather his defenses. Maya looked up at her family as her new hero name was called out, City Shaper. An apparent homage to her brother’s hero name. The everyone seemed to feel the significance and the applause increased, but Seth wasn’t sure he could handle anymore happy moments.

Marco ended up facing off with Master Da Feng, though the fight was a very different kind of affair. The battle was with loose rules, no ring constraints but no touching the ground. A mid air duel between air controllers. Marco ended up pulling out several moves Seth hadn’t caught in his observations. Vacuum punches, temporary air constructs, he even made a simplified scramjet to boost himself past Master Da Feng’s defenses and slam into him. He had finally came into his own it seemed, finally learned his own moves and not just someone else’s. Master Da Feng bowed out after his defenses proved inadequate leaving Marco to have the win. He'd earned his hero name, Air Break, all on his own.

Alex was next, though her ‘fight’ was another oddity of a challenge. Her task was to hide among a group of heroes and both remain undetected by them, as a copy of a different hero, and find the other false hero in the group and defeat them. She wouldn’t fail if she was discovered, but she would have to face the whole group alone and win through her own abilities. Rather apt for a stealth super like her, but hard to pull off. Seth noticed quickly that the heroes were hardlight copies, but their programming was something else entirely. He couldn’t find their source in the Hill’s systems, but they were near exact copies of the real heroes. Alex narrowly avoided being caught on a few occasions, though only Seth and maybe Ohm knew her real identity, everyone else left to wonder and piece together for themselves. She finally won when the fake tried to accuse one of the copies of being the imposter, but ended up using evidence that they couldn’t have known about given the circumstances. Alex swooped in behind them and tagged them as the fake, unmasking them and winning her challenge. She took Scarlet Mimic as her hero name and proved her prowess... though Seth still couldn't shake the cold feeling he got from her.

Next was Cleo, thankfully presented with a mostly normal fight. She faced off with her trainer, Pharaoh Shephten, in a no contact bout to see who could outlast the other using nothing but their powers. It progressed as could be expected. Shephten used the abundant sand on the arena floor to keep Cleo off balance and prevent her from focusing. Cleo retaliated by not letting Shephten stay material for too long, constantly whipping the sand he was made off apart. The fight took a ridiculous turn though when Cleo had finally had enough of fighting the terrain and decided to make her own. She created a portal at her feet, pulled straps up to keep her in place, but basically opened the gates to her personal leather dimension onto the ring. Leather bindings of every size snaked and whipped out of that hole in reality, clearing the sand from the ring with long sweeping attacks. When the ring was cleaned she closed the portal up and stepped out onto the metal floor, left with nothing but a pile of grinning gold dusted sand opposite her. She won handily as she swept the Pharaoh away out of the ring. In another twist, she decided to retain her nickname. Thus she became the Punk Princess in title and… ‘Hell, it actually fits given her ridiculous number of talents.’

Ohm was the last up with a fight against all three of his trainers, even though he was only trained by his dad. Terawatt and Breaker Box looked like they had been coopted into this fight by Zeus’s Strike, the clear look of emotional smothering and fearful coercion across their faces. The fight itself was flashy, but devolved into a sequential brawl like Kabar’s, with Zeus’ Strike pushing the other two to put up more of a challenge against his son. For his part though, Ohm was a menace. He started off as expected, rushing in with reckless abandon, but quickly his attacks seemed more thought out. The two trainers had come in powered up and ready, but Ohm was emptied out from his display. This was deliberate apparently as his attacks quickly siphoned off their electricity and kept the fight a mostly physical brawl. They were defeated in nearly a minute. Finally one on one, Ohm fought his dad using all the power he had taken. Electricity arced across the arena with every hit, blows matched at incredible speeds, Zeus even called down a lightning strike… ‘A fucking Indoor Lightning Strike!!!’ The fight lasted for almost ten minutes, both fighters running each other out of power and stamina. Ohm only won because his dad finally called it and gave up, between haggard breaths and futile attempts at outward enthusiasm. He did at least prove himself his dad’s equal, which was definitely enough to graduate. He officially took his full name, Ohmega, as his hero name, though Seth was sure it wasn’t his real name in the end. ‘Though I definitely don’t see him taking his father’s mantel any time soon.’

The last of the trainees challenged, Para retook the spotlight as the audience softly wondered what was next. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please calm your speculations! The judges have come to a final decision on our remaining recruit!” Para motioned for Seth to retake the center of the arena. He took a nervous breath, but locked down his determination. Walking out into the battered and reorganized sands of the arena, he felt the eyes of the audience on him, felt their judgement and a bit of their ridicule. The worst of the offenders at least seemed placated... or absent. Turning about in the center of the ring Seth realized why things felt less tense than before. The Elite were gone from their front row seats, even Aegis was gone. Only Mediknight was left, standing in their place in the front row. His expressionless helmet gave off an air of regret that Seth couldn’t ignore. He looked around the stands, but no one seemed to notice what was happening until Para continued. “The judges have decided to give you another chance! A last attempt to prove your worth! And what better a challenge for one such as you than this!” Para ceremoniously extended his hand toward the closed shutter door behind Seth as it slowly began opening. A bright light drenching the space and pouring out into the arena. Seven figures silhouetted against the illuminated space. “I present to you, your challengers!! THE ELITE!!!”