Alec took longer than he had expected to recover. Not only had the continued exertion of his gravity manipulation abilities severely drained his stamina, it also left him with a pounding headache. He supposed this was how Ethan felt when he used his powers to a considerable extent, or maybe he had simply learned to get used to it after all this time. There was no way he could know for sure, since Ethan wasn't around. In fact, no one was.

After his bout with Ava and Sharice, Alec was left alone in the empty halls. He would have given anything to know how things were going, how many people had dropped out, and who. But there was nothing he could do except keep going until he reached level one, or found someone who could thrust him out of the competition.

He tried not to think how easy the latter would be, given that he was, quite literally, out of his element, left with only an ability that seemed more detriment than benefit.

His legs trailed against the ground as he stumbled along, head still rather foggy. Within moments, however, he came to a halt, the sound of shuffling feet having reached his ears. He stood silently, waiting. . .

Then a fellow Hades boy darted into view along the path directly ahead, screaming bloody murder as he looked over his shoulder. There was a pause of two seconds, then Alec blinked in surprise as a gigantic torrent of water, shaped like a dragon, roared through the hall behind him. That was all he needed to see; turning firmly on his heel, he strode back down the hallway he had come, strangely more exasperated than afraid.

But this proved to be a mistake. Merely five minutes after he had adopted this new path, someone stepped into his way. The person was on high alert, his head swiveling about as if on a lever, but he still jumped a foot in the air as his eyes landed on the ragged youth now blocking his path.

"I know you," he said, visibly relaxing, though still keeping himself in a fighting stance. "You're the guy —"

"That dusted Shadow Shifter, yeah yeah." Alec was growing very tired of hearing that statement.

"Well, I was gonna say the guy who blew up the field, but that works too." The boy looked strangely excited. "Hey, what was it like? Fighting him?"

"It wasn't much of a fight, and it wasn't my idea of a relaxing evening, given that he tried to kill my best friend. But I don't like talking about it. So are we going to fight, or what?"

"Oh. Oh yeah. You look like you just got run over by a tractor though, so I guess I'll take it a bit easier on you."

"Don't," Alec advised, and he actually managed a smile. "I'm tougher than I look."

The boy mirrored his smile. "We'll see."

There was a brief pause, both of them readying themselves for the impending confrontation. Then the boy darted forward. Alec had been waiting for this, and reacted as quickly as he could with his muscles aching for rest. He threw up his arms in a swift, sharp movement that left him feeling as if he had torn something in his arm, and the boy was lifted upwards as if a sudden gust of wind had swept him into the air. His opponent slammed into the ceiling, back plastered to the shining metal as if someone had superglued him there, and he stared down at Alec with wide eyes.

He struggled valiantly to break free, but the inverted gravity kept him pinned to the roof. Now all he had to do was keep him there for four minutes, and this would be over.

"Gravity manipulation?" He seemed more intrigued than shocked. "But you're an Elemental."

"I could explain, but I need to concentrate." Alec gritted his teeth, his hands wobbling as the earlier strain returned in fierce measure.

"Yeah, I suppose. Guess I do too."

"What?"

To Alec's surprise, a rope of energy snaked its way from around the boy's back, shooting towards him. Alec applied more force to the inverted column of gravity, and the light blue tendril was repelled, wavering under the suction force and similarly sticking to the ceiling. But more were coming now, sprouting from his back, so that within moments he looked like some kind of giant, mutant spider. His adversary was grunting too, face set in the effort of trying to push the tendrils towards him.

It was a battle of wills, of endurance, and while Alec had plenty of will, the latter was in short supply. Slowly, surely, the tendrils were breaking through the resistant force, inching closer and closer.

This ability was too raw, too unrefined for him to use. Perhaps it could scrape him by with the element of surprise, but he couldn't attempt to keep this up for the entire match. He needed something — some earth.

It was the tingling that notified him. Alec's concentration shattered as he stared down in horror; one of the tendrils, he now saw, had broken away from the rest, snaked along the wall out of sight, and curled up around his leg. There was another, louder grunt, then Alec's feet swept out from underneath him. He slammed into the wall, head rattling, but landed on his back, eyes open to see the energy tendrils reaching out towards the ground. The boy balanced on them, keeping himself suspended in the air.

"Ha, almost had me there," he said. He had no idea how wrong he was, but Alec wasn't inclined to correct him at this moment.

"Four minutes. Hope you're comfortable."

The energy vines whipped towards him, trapping him in a web of humming, bright blue threads. Despite how flimsy they looked, the chords were powerful, their grip ironlike. It was humiliating, strapped to the floor like this while his captor loomed over him like an obnoxious spider.

Four minutes had never felt like such a long time. He could not stand here like this, helpless, while the teachers watched on. If he was meant to lose, then he would go down swinging, just as the Heroes he had grown up admiring would do.

He gathered up the last of his reserves for a final push, forcing the gravity upwards once more. There was no reaction for almost half a minute, then something in the boy's face shifted.

"You just don't give up, do you?" he said, looking irritated now.

Alec didn't respond; under the strain of his powers, he simply couldn't. But a grin managed to spread its way across his face, taking even him by surprise. He put everything he had into the field of gravity he was affecting, and conversely, his enemy did the same. The energy tendrils tightened their hold, forming something of a makeshift straitjacket. But Alec continued his assault, all the while his body screamed with the effort. He could feel the hold of the tendrils loosening and redoubling in succession, their powers colliding in an inverse tug-of-war.

The mental strain was almost unbearable now, yet he gritted his teeth and pushed through. He might lose, but he sure wasn't going to make it easy for him. He struggled viciously, and despite his weariness, he was pleased to see it was being mirrored in his opponent.

He was struggling, yes, but there was still a chance. If only he had some earth to use . . . If only he could be free of these ridiculous binds . . . .

A sharp crackling sound nearly broke his concentration. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to look away, but as the sound grew louder, it became increasingly hard to ignore. Luckily, the same went for his opponent. The boy looked down, his eyes widening in horror at the sight. All along Alec's body, the energy chords were solidifying, transitioning smoothly from their vibrant blue to a dull, granite grey. They were hardening into stone.

The stone spread all over, up to the strings protruding from his back. Then, all at once, they crumbled. The chips of rock fell to the ground in a shower of grey fragments, but their owner remained pinned to the ceiling under the increased, reverted gravity.

"How did you —?"

The question went unfinished and unanswered, partially because he evidently decided he didn't want a response after all, and partially because Alec had no clue what had happened either. The fight was far from over, though: while the earlier strings had been destroyed, more and more were sprouting forth, taking their place. The sudden petrification had created an opening, however, and Alec seized on it like a drowning man clutching at a liferaft.

He caused an abrupt lull in the gravitational force keeping him up, and the boy came plummeting downwards. His fall came to an immediate halt as Alec reasserted his powers, then began to move the force in a new direction, shifting him around at increasing speeds like a washing machine set on power wash.

"Hey, wha — what are you do-ing — c-cut it — o-out!" he yelled jerkily, sounding as if he was only a few seconds away from vomiting.

Alec complied, changing direction for the final time and giving a fierce push upwards. It wasn't as delicate as he would have preferred, but it did the trick. The boy fell unconscious on impact, his head lolling to the side.

Alec gasped out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his lungs burning. His arms wobbled, clearly about to give out, but he managed to lower his opponent gently to the ground before they could. He lay panting on the ground, eyes staring up at the ceiling. This was not a feeling he could see himself getting used to.

He lay there for several minutes, glancing every now and then at his enemy to ensure that he stayed knocked out for at least four consecutive minutes. Thankfully, he did. He recovered quickly all the same; his eyes snapped open and for a brief moment he looked confused, unsure of where he was, then he jerked upwards, body tensed.

"What happened?"

"You were knocked out," Alec told him simply. He spoke from the floor, having made no move to rise either.

"Four minutes?"

"Nine actually. I set my stopwatch on a timer if you want proof."

Evidently, he didn't. "And you stayed until I woke up?" There was a hint of skepticism in his voice, mirrored in the look he now threw him.

"Actually, I stayed because I'm spent. That gravity manipulation takes a lot out of a guy."

"The best powers usually always do," the boy said. To Alec's surprise, he folded his legs and took a sitting position, though he definitely didn't look happy about being eliminated. "Mine does the same."

"Really?" That came as a genuine surprise. In all the time they had fought, he had definitely appeared to be struggling, but that had seemed to be the result of opposing Alec's powers, not a taxing of his own. "You looked fine to me."

"Or I just wanted you to think I was fine. Showing signs of tiredness — or any sort of weakness, for that matter — during battle is a terrible idea. Because if your opponent is smart enough they can probably figure out what it is by watching you, and if they can do that, they can exploit it. Manifesting the energy those tendrils are made from is nasty business, and maintaining it for so long . . . whew. . . . I'm almost kinda glad I dropped out so soon. I put on a fairly decent performance so far, so I think I'm in for a good score. And to be honest, I'm a bit exhausted too. At least now I can go throw myself into bed and have a nice —"

"Aren't we supposed to go to the auditorium when we drop out?" Alec asked him.

The boy's smile faded instantly. "Ah damn, I forgot about that. Oh well, at least they've got healers. I could use one right about now." To demonstrate his point, he rubbed his head. "By the way, how did you manage to petrify my energy? I never knew you had an ability like that, and even if I did I would have thought it would work on things that are more . . . solid."

"Oh, well . . . I don't really know how I did it," Alec admitted. "It just sort of happened. I didn't even know I was doing it until I looked down."

"Makes sense," he said, with a knowing look.

"It does?"

"Hmm? Oh, right. I forgot you weren't raised in this life. You found out you were one of us a few months ago. Well, that means there's a lot you wouldn't know. See, we all know that the single shared trait that all superhumans have in common is the Deva gene. But even after all this time we still haven't completely figured out how it works, but we have managed to make some observations.

"One of those observations is that in times of extreme stress or high levels of emotions, new powers can be developed, dormant ones can be awakened, or already manifested powers can expand in ways you didn't even know they could. I'm not too keen on the science, but from what I understand, during those moments, the body is producing all sorts of hormones and chemicals — natural ones, like any normal human — and the Deva gene does the same. How those chemicals interact with each other is usually different, but sometimes — not often, but sometimes — it leads to some amazing stuff."

"Like the Trigger Moments," Alec said, catching on.

"Exactly. Not sure how I feel about you managing to have another Trigger Moment and discover the miraculous power you needed to stop me in the literal middle of our fight, but . . ." He trailed off, looking both exasperated and amused. "But hey, even without the new power, whatever it is, you're one persistent bastard. No wonder Shadow Shifter hates you."

He smiled, and Alec let out a snort of genuine laughter.

"Well, I should probably go before Elliott shows up and hauls me out of the maze himself." He stood and stretched, then pulled out his compass to see the direction the flashing red lights were pointing in, but then he slid up the back and frowned. "Forgot something?"

As he said it, Alec realized he actually had. He had taken his starting chip, which the boy had been wearing around a shoelace tied around his neck, but had been so focused on resting that he had actually forgotten he could take an additional chip as well. The boy took another from the back and tossed it to Alec, who could see two more nestled in the compartment.

"Name's Colby, by the way."

"Alec." He also stood now, his head still thumping.

"Well, good luck to you, my good sir." He dropped his hand on Alec's shoulder and swept away. Luck. That, apparently, was the real winner of this match, given that Alec only managed to defeat him with a skill he didn't even know how to use. His mind flicked back to that moment in the common room weeks ago, when he had nearly been gored by a shard of black rock that had miraculously turned into a harmless slipper. And now this, the first time anything of the sort had happened since then. . . . It was indeed a mystery, and one he needed to solve soon, but that had to come after the test. Right now his thoughts were on his recent battle: that was the second time in a row he had almost been overwhelmed. His gaze swiveled onto the mass of broken granite-grey stone littering the corridor.

He held out a hand towards it, and the stone mirrored the movements of his fingers, rising to a single point in the air and drifting together, shifting to a more malleable state. It rolled together like a wave, then soldified, leaving the final product a massive, perfectly spherical ball of solid rock.

It floated in the air, just close enough that as he stretched out his arm to its full extent his fingers grazed it. And at once, his skin began to morph, taking on the exact appearance and texture of the rock. These new abilities had potential, but they weren't what he had trained to master for the last several weeks. He would get to them in time, but for now, he had a test to pass and teachers to wow. It was time to start bringing his A-game.

To the untrained eye, it would seem as if Ethan was doing nothing. To the trained eye, however, things wouldn't appear very differently. This was because neither eye could see beneath the skull to observe the furious workings of the brain beyond. He had been deposited into a small, platinum-walled room, about as large as their shared bedrooms in the Hades Dorm, but completely empty.

The moment he had touched down, he rushed to the door and peered cautiously down the halls, ensuring that they were clear. When he had received no sign or sound of human life in the vicinity, he deemed it safe and plopped himself down in the dead center of the room, legs folded and eyes closed.

While his outward appearance gave the impression that he was meditating, he was actually projecting a very wide telepathic field, like a net of mental waves spreading over the surrounding area.

Though his range wasn't as wide as he would have liked, it was still enough to ensnare a respectable amount of students. While they walked, they thought. After all, the mind was commonly believed to be the only place one was safe to truly be alone with their feelings, where no one could eavesdrop. Of course, they were very wrong. Ethan listened to every complaint, carefully examined every observation, and surveyed the memories of the rooms they were wandering through.

In doing so, he managed to piece together fragments of a very detailed mental map of their surroundings, as if he had actually walked down these halls himself.

The easiest route to his current location seemed to be the one where most students were scurrying by. Like most students at Helix, even in the first year, he had a reasonable amount of control over his powers. After all, many of them had had them for years. They were bound to have dedicated hours of their time each day to practicing, and obviously seen results, even if they were not true masters of their abilities.

The thing about Telepathy was, no matter how adept one was at it, it was taxing on both the mind and the body. Of course, most powers came with their own unique toll, but psychic powers were among the most detrimental. Already he could feel a dull pounding in the back of his head that told him a full-on headache wasn't far behind, and if he kept this up much longer there would be bleeding from his nose.

But he was doing well so far. Some very accomplished telepaths could actually control those whose minds they invaded. Ethan wasn't at that level yet, however. At most, he was simply suggestive.

While the students came and went by his route, he slipped thoughts into their mind's ears. Keep going straight. . . . Maybe someone's down here. . . . Around this bend. . . .

So he kept up a steady stream, and in doing so steered the stronger students away, hoping to avoid the more tedious battles. At the same time, he lured those weaker minds in, posing all the while as the innocent voice inside one's head. Their gut instincts telling them which course of action was best. It was ironic; he had heard many times before that if there was one thing, and only one thing in this entire world you could trust, it was your gut. And already, their "guts" had led two students to their demise. Now it was about to claim a third victim.

Turn right, he said, slipping his voice into the ear of a girl he had often seen at the Zeus table. She stopped, considering the option. In truth, any and all of these students, if their wills were strong enough, could simply ignore the suggestions and continue along however they deemed fit. But they were so preoccupied with the battles at hand that they were easier to manipulate.

After a moment she shrugged, deciding to trust that helpful little voice in her brain telling her to go right, then left, then left again. And soon she was outside, walking past his door.

She turned and saw him as she came forward, sprawled on the floor with his eyes closed. He watched himself through her eyes as she gasped and took a step backward, like a parasite in her mind. She quickly stifled the sound. He had not moved, which clearly meant he hadn't noticed her. A grin split her face. She had already won a chip earlier. This was going to be even easier. She had no qualms about attacking this defenseless enemy; after all, they were forewarned that this was a battle, and anyone stupid enough to meditate in the middle of a war deserved to be blasted in the face with fire.

And she intended to do just that. A blazing fireball bloomed in her hands and she launched a plume of flame at him, careful to keep the intensity lowered so that he didn't suffer severe injuries. She was tactical, not cruel.

The fire flew forward with a sound like a rushing river, but her grin suddenly gave way to an expression of shock, her mouth falling open. The fire was moving in a direction she had not commanded it, swirling around her target as though it was being sucked in a funnel. She watched, aghast, as the fire spiraled in on itself, whirling again into a large ball.

Unbeknownst to her, Ethan had also been projecting a bubble of outward-spiraling telekinetic energy to protect his unmoving body. As the flame poured over the invisible barrier, he curled it in on itself, forming it back into the ball she was so ready to eliminate him with.

Then, still watching the scene unfold through the girl's mind, without even raising a finger, he launched it back at her.

The fireball exploded against her form and she crashed into the wall behind the door, falling limply to the ground.

Ethan cracked open an eye and peered at her curiously, ensuring she was okay. Her uniform appeared singed in several places, but she was otherwise fine. He had a feeling that she would be, but he still had to make sure. Vesta's Law was still in place, the odd rule that said that a superhuman's body was specifically adapted in ways that ensured that their own powers wouldn't be harmful to them, which was why someone super strong didn't break their hand when they punched solid rock, and thankfully why this girl hadn't been left a charred and smoking mess.

He opened his palm and her chip, which she had secured in her hair with an elastic band, unraveled itself and leapt into it. Then he extracted her compass and the single spoil of victory she had inside to signify her lone win.

It wouldn't do for a body to lay unconscious at the door where he was luring his prey. With a nonchalant wave of his hand he sent her zooming down the hallway and careening into the corridor beyond. She would wake up a few minutes later, feeling angry, confused, and humiliated, but still eliminated. Then she would be escorted out by her red-glowing compass.

That was her problem though. As long as she wasn't seriously harmed he didn't have thought to spare. Instead he set the third chip into his compass and began his observation of the world beyond his room once again, peering through minds and determining which ones would require the least effort to overpower.

He sighed aloud. This was so tedious.