Ataki has been… Quite insistent, yes. But my team

and I prefer to work independently. We do not like

having people bossing us around when they have

no idea of what they’re asking us.

-Savvria Ixen Âkil, President of the ISPC

‘Now, a lot of times, potens think of ways to use their powers in a way that lets them strive for better mobility.’ The book in Reveca’s hand said. ‘For example, let’s say a potens uses their laser beams to propel themselves. Well, I think that, people who have powers that were only meant to give them the ability to fly, should do the same, only the other way around.’

She passed the book from her right hand to her left one, giving a glance to the elevator as she did so before lowering her view towards her ‘punishment.’

‘I was only given the power to fly. But, since most main fliers get enhanced durability, and so was my case, I was also able to use my flight to compensate for my lack of super strength when fighting atlas, basically launching myself as a human bullet at them. Other examples of main fliers would be a potens with wings, which could use the extra appendages and the additional power that mutants get to better enemies in hand to hand combat. Not only that, but with a little bit of tinkering, they could also use it as shields, which are always needed.’

Reveca then took her phone out and checked the time. It was twelve thirty-five a.m. and Gravity was still nowhere to be seen. She cleaned a smudge in her visor. It had been bothering for quite a while, and she was trying to get used to wearing her headgear. Even inside.

Of course, Gravity had told her to.

Not having anything else to do, Reveca gave a sidelong glance to the book and its contents, more out of boredom than interest.

‘With this, what I’m trying to get at is that, even for people who can only fly or is they’re main skill, you can use your power to get around things. Some people might laugh about this, but simple things such as carrying teammates with average mobility is one of the more useful things you can do. More people on the field means more people next to you on the…’

The elevator bell rang.

(Finally,) Reveca thought, tired of pretending to be doing something useful before closing the book and getting up.

The doors of the machine slid to both sides, revealing a costumed figure, yet, it wasn’t Gravity. The man dressed in silken and white clothes, who wore a mask that only revealed a rectangle of his face whilst keeping even his neck hidden, took a step forward, eyeing her as Reveca did the same.

“Comet?” The man asked.

“Eh?” Reveca said before her mind caught up to her mouth. “Ah. Yes, that's me. I’m Comet.”

“Hello!” He said with a sudden cheery tone, his hands extending to both sides. “I’m Friction. Gravity told me that she was going to be late and asked me if I could come, and… I’m here,” he then said, presenting himself again only this time with his hands.

Reveca tried to scratch her head, but found her helmet in the way. Without uttering a word, she let her hand drop and stayed quiet.

(Now what?)

Without much idea of what to say, Reveca tried to make some small talk, attempting to think of something while it lasted.

“So, how do you know Gravity? I mean… Are you just another hero? Maybe a friend…?”

“I’m her teammate.”

“Ah, right. I remember reading something about a partner. So that was you…”

As sudden as it had started, the small talk ended, Reveca still having no idea of what to say. Friction’s eyes darted towards the book, which was still being held in her right hand, slightly hidden behind her back.

“Don’t tell me you got grounded,” Friction said. “What did you do?”

Reveca stared at the man with wide eyes behind her visor, words nowhere to be heard. He then laughed, maybe because he had interpreted her reaction as surprise and not awkwardness, which, if that was the case, she gladly welcomed. She had only managed to come up with, ‘There’s nice weather today.’

It wasn’t even true.

“You’re not the only one,” the hero answered her silent question. “I did some stupid things one time. I accidentally destroyed several cars, and even though it wasn’t that bad, Gravity did not like it. She made me read five books. Three were about laws and regulations. I still have nightmares to this day,” he said, rubbing his naked shoulders and sash as he did so.

Reveca looked at the man, surprised that… Well, that a professional superhero had experienced the same… Situation. She then raised the book and held it in front of him.

“Well…” Reveca began to say, feeling the stinging sensation from that day. “In a chase simulation we had a week ago, I… Held back. Not only did she mock me by getting donuts and still managing to escape, but she also suggested that I… Maybe I wasn't supposed to be a hero.”

“Ouch,” Friction said, still in a somewhat playful but empathetic tone.

She nodded, followed by a moment of silence. Not an uncomfortable one, but more out of… Respect? Maybe understanding fitted the situation best. Reveca then felt Friction’s hand on her shoulder, making her look up since he was taller than her.

“Come on,” Friction said as he pointed towards one of the halls with his head, the one that deviated to the left. “We can walk while we talk about it.”

Reveca followed him as he went in first, having a vague idea of where they were going. After getting into the corridor, she looked through the glass walls to her left and saw the tall buildings of the city, even grayer due to the cloudy weather. It looked like it could rain at any moment.

“What do you think about it?” Friction then inquired.

Reveca turned her head towards the hero, but since he was still facing forwards she returned to the gloomy sight to her left.

“About what she told me?”

“Yes. Why do you think she’s so hard? I mean, I have an idea, but I’m open to new ones.”

She saw a figure flying around in the distance before opening her mouth, “It seems like she’s that way but... Like, even if it wasn’t me, she would still be harsh with someone else. But it’s as if she’s even harsher because I’m the one she’s teaching.”

“Mmh…Why?”

“I… I don’t know,” Reveca said in an exhausted voice. “Maybe it’s because I criticized her on the first day. Or maybe she somehow find out that I don’t like vigilantes and thinks I resent her for her past, or some stupid thing that I’m not aware of.”

“You hate vigilantes?” Friction then asked with genuine surprise. “I thought people loved them.”

“Well…” Reveca began to say as she internally sighed. “They’re ‘heroes’ and such but, isn’t almost every vigilante a little too aggressive? I mean, almost every time I hear or read about someone being saved by one of them, I also see a mention of excessive brutality from the so-called hero. One, two or even three, sure. But almost everyone? It seems as if all of them have anger issues or something.”

“I guess you do have a point. But a lot of people don’t really care about the brutality part. I mean, would you care about a criminal getting what they deserve?”

Reveca had a lot to say about it, and she had done it, many times. This was not one of those, so instead she grunted as if she had understood.

“Anyways, do you?”.

“What?” Reveca inquired, giving Friction a sidelong glance.

“Do you resent her? For her past?”

Reveca took a deep breath while lowering her eyes. It was something complicated to answer, even more so with someone whom she just met… She turned around to find Friction, now looking at her with an intrigued face. Not criticism, pity, or disappointment. But what she found there was curiosity.

At that moment, Friction was asking her, not forcing her to give him an answer. Reveca could have declined the offer, decided not to tell him, and he probably would have been fine with it. He was the only one who knew what she had gone through in these… Two weeks? Only two? How could it not have been at least three months…?

She stopped, and chose to answer.

“I don’t,” Reveca finally admitted. It was the truth. She knew it was the truth, and yet… It was a bit hard to believe, even for her. “I was skeptical at the beginning, I think. I don’t know if Gravity was like most vigilantes but, if she was, then she’s changed. I have only known her for… Two weeks,” she said with audible exhaustion. “But she’s so obsessed with the rules that… It's kind of annoying.”

“But if you hate vigilantes, isn’t that exactly what you want?” Friction then asked. “Someone who upholds the rules and doesn’t let anyone infringe them, not even themselves?”

“I… Guess. But everytime, she looks like it’s a chore for her. As if it’s an obligation.”

“Is it not for you?”

“I… Sure. It is but… I do it because it’s the right thing to do. I want to do it because it’s the right thing to do. But she seems to do it because it’s the thing to do. I don’t know if I’m explaining it right,” Reveca confessed, raising the temperature of her body since it had gotten chilly.

Reveca then heard a click.

“Is that it?.

“What?”

”Is it because I’m… Passionate about the whole hero thing and she’s not for whatever reason? Because I want to do it?”

It… Made sense, in a weird and twisted way. What hero would discourage their pupil from being a hero themselves unless they had something against them? Or in this case, something against their view? All those times where it felt like she was doing chores, did they feel like that to her? Because it hadn’t felt like that for Reveca. Could it be that Gravity was jealous of her for it…?

“No,” Friction calmly answered her.

“N-No?” Reveca said in a confused tone.

“No. At least I don’t think so,” he then explained.

“But… Then… Why does it feel like she’s… Working?”

“Because it’s her job.”

Reveca stopped on top of the red carpeted floor, just twenty steps from the doors at the end of the curved hall. Friction did the same, only he turned around and looked at her. He was about to open his mouth, but Reveca went ahead first.

“I don’t understand. Why…?”

“Why does it bother you so much?” Friction interrupted her, again in that genuine curious tone. “Why do you have to know?”

He was, once again, asking, not forcing her to answer. And this time, Reveca decided to keep her mouth shut. Though that didn’t stop Friction from opening his.

“Is it because you’re a fan and you can’t stand being treated harshly by her? No, no, you said you didn’t like vigilantes. How about… You can’t stand someone being mean to you? Mmh… Are you afraid that you’re doing something wrong? Oh, maybe you just hate not understanding things? What about…?”

Reveca stopped hearing him.

(What was it? What was the reason? Was it important? Did it have to do with her, or Gravity? Would that mean…?) She grew angry as her mind suddenly shifted to another thought. (Work? Just work? If she really thinks that then there’s nothing she can teach me about being a hero.)

And despite that thought, the anxiety she had felt due to not knowing the reason was still there. Now maybe even bigger.

She had to discover the reason. Because there had to be a reason, why treat her like that otherwise? And it had to be important, because it would affect her training, her education to be a future hero. It could make the difference between a little girl living or dying…

Reveca bit her lips as she tightened her right hand into a fist.

(What is it…?)

“Anyways…” Friction said once he had stopped rambling to himself. He then paused as he looked at Reveca. “You’re still stressed about it?” He snorted before saying, “Tell you what, do something with me, and I’ll tell you the reason.”

She looked directly at Friction with a glacial stare.

“What?” She asked, her voice echoing with a hint of desperation.

“If you do something with me, I’ll-”

“What do you want me to do?” Reveca interrupted him.

“Sparring,” Friction answered, then throwing a jab at the air accompanied with some fancy footwork. “What do you say?”

“Why sparring?”

“It's the only thing I’m good at.”

Reveca made a face behind her visor, “I guess you won’t tell me the reason if I lose, won’t you?”

“Nope. Wouldn’t be fun if it wasn’t a challenge.”

Reveca hugged both her arms.

“Doesn’t seem like it would be fun even if it wasn’t.”

“Is that a yes?” Friction said, ignoring what she had just said.

Reveca scoffed, letting her arms drop, “Ok.”

(I need to know,) she thought as she remembered the feeling.

The day was getting more annoying by the second, and now this…

“Great,” Friction said, turning around and opening the double doors before getting into the adjacent room. Reveca followed him shortly after, only stopping to take a deep breath before crossing the doorframe. She then entered the room, looking forwards as she tried to avoid any type of distraction. Unfortunately, she slipped away some glances at what she guessed was the Neighbor Training Facility.

It wasn’t small, yet it appeared small, at least in comparison with the gargantuan tower. The walls to her left and right were thirty meters apart from each other, whilst the wall furthest from the entrance appeared after forty meters of a black tiled floor.

A quick head movement to her left revealed a wind turbine, a giant black furnace with burning fire in it, and a waterfall in the form of a shower with a wide drain encrusted below it on a white tiled floor… The blurry exercise machines passed quickly before her eyes as she faced forward.

(Breathe. Only focus on breathing…) She tried to remind herself, mustering all the concentration she could.

Her eyes were looking forwards, but they also were trying to lay her sight on a big structure covering the middle of the room. Composed of black tubes and beams, with cables hanging from the top, Reveca tried to look away from its peculiarity, finding the furthest thing from it possible.

A small line it was, the one that connected the ceiling and the wall she was facing. It had nothing peculiar, nothing that made her think. It was a line, and that was all she needed it to be. She then exhaled, noticing how her arms and legs were shaking.

(You can control air, yet breathing is so difficult to you?)

With a current of air that blew away the hair in her face, she flexed her extremities before relaxing them, still feeling the slight and static movement which they still made, now only weaker, thankfully. Nonetheless, her heart rate was slowing down just as a loud noise made it go faster.

Her sight fell down until it reached a group of figures next to the wall she had been using to relax herself.

A pair of two, a small figure dressed in a white coat which was too big for them and a black mask covering the entirety of their face, and a taller one wearing a purple and black jacket and a digital mask, were standing in front of a row of targets with vague and square humanoid shape.

The faint and billowing smoke revealed to Reveca the existence of the artifact between the arms of the smaller figure. Due to the distance, she could only distinguish the slim gray barrel and the protruding green canister which was halfways inside it. The figure with the digital mask was gesturing towards it in an energetic manner, also moving their head from side to side…

A mix of golden, pale, dark, and pure yellows caressed the corner of her eyes. Her feet stopped, and her head slowly rotated towards the body emanating the light. She observed his yellow and black tones, his chin and fingers revealing his brown skin, the symbol of a white aircraft on his chest, the dark lenses. Even though she wasn’t next to him she could feel the warmth of the rays. A gentle warmth that not only heated the surroundings, but also invigorated anyone covered by it, giving them the strength necessary to even…

“Hey! Where are you going? Our stop is right here.”

Reveca came to a stop, realizing that she had been walking towards the yellow, brown, and black figure with quite the quick step. She looked to her right and saw Friction next to higher ground. With a dry mouth, she gave one last look to the glowing man before turning around and heading towards her substitute mentor. Her heart was pumping fast, and her breath was trembling, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, anxiety wasn’t the cause of it.

Instead a deep guilt and even deeper happiness were the reason.

Once she had gotten away from the middle and approached the right side of the room, Reveca was able to see Friction, who was leaning forwards and putting his arms on the tall ring without ropes, lost in the middle of the scene that was unfolding right before his eyes. She decided to join him, hoping it would help clear her mind, or at least, put some distance between it and her worries. She put her hands on the ring, but they touched something that didn’t feel like it.

An amorphous, blurry, and curved mass of thick glass was covering something gray below it. She was going to study it further until a loud clash finally reclaimed her attention.

The first thing, and the only thing she was able to discern for a while, were the seven swords flying across the air, creating sudden flashes of light every time their polished edges reflected the rays coming from above them. The blades danced from one point to another, swirling as if they were imbued with life and happiness, nevertheless, their fluid movements were also brutal in a sense. The steel weapons crashed on top of dark figures, almost living shadows in the presence of the white flashes. Reveca wouldn’t have been surprised if sparks had suddenly inundated the place.

With a bit of patience, she was able to finally distinguish the dark silhouettes, which really weren’t that dark.

The one targeted by the majority of the swords wore a black motorcycle jacket and what could be described as a mix of a dark blue pair of pants and a long skirt, whilst his head, which was quickly moving around as it was trying to avoid being hit, was covered by a sharp white mask with a long nose.

Five of the swords moved synchronously and with immense precision towards Pinochio. Slashes and thrusts hovered over him, threatening to harm his body. Even though the long-nosed figure jumped backwards, the weapons followed it as a slithering snake. It was just as they were about to collapse against him that a white and almost translucent image, with the same shape as the masked figure, materialized in front of him, acting as a shield as it guarded him from the long knives.

Amongst the almost-to-be sparks, Reveca saw a chunk of blade flying across the air and landing on the other side of the ropeless ring.

A very durable shield.

The cracked piece of metal was then surrounded by an intense and warm orange. The mass above the broken edge looked viscous and sticky as it lightly scattered across the red floor. However, it suddenly stopped before moving further, losing its color as it turned into a clear and thick coat of curved glass.

More orange blobs fell to the ground, and Reveca’s eyes moved from one warm mass to the other until they reached the origin. Another masked figure with short brown hair was on the ring, trying to deal with the minority of swords, but ultimately failing. The orange mass secreted from his black clothes and fell to his hands before it was launched into the air towards one of the weapons. The dancing blade, nonetheless, did a fancy swirl, avoiding the blob just as it prepared a strike. Metal fell, and a high pitched noise emerged as a screen of glass stopped it.

It was at that moment, where there wasn’t any viscous mass and the material was stretched, that Reveca was able to discern the black leather with scarlet spirals, traveling from the middle of the back onto the torso, abdomen, arms and legs. Meanwhile, the white lenses looked at the weapon, his mouth tightly closed as he grinded his teeth from the effort.

The glass sheet began to bend around the blade, acquiring a light orange tone before turning once again into crystal, only it was now surrounding the sword with their amorphous and thick coat.

The weapon fell to the ground, and before it had even time to roll, more of the orange mass was already covering his arm stretched backwards. He then launched it towards something else, as if he was throwing a disc, but this time it solidified in mid air, assimilating the form of a curved edge of glass.

The handle still connected to the remainder of the broken blade did a parable from where it stood on the floor before crashing on top of the curved edge, breaking them both as they collapsed into the red ring.

Bits of glass fell everywhere, but it was once a section of them cracked that she noticed the third and last remaining figure on the ring. And it was… Normal. And yet out of place.

Inside one of the biggest buildings in the world dedicated to the administration, supplying, and training of heroes, a man with still black in his partially white hair, dressed only in sports pants and trainers whilst his bare chest remained exposed, was moving around, avoiding projectiles made out of glass as he gazed the long nose figure over his shoulder.

His normality was beginning to confuse Reveca just as she recognized who he was.

The retired hero 9-Swords was running around with a smile on his face, his aquiline features shining with sweat just as slivers and bits of glass fell around him. He may have been in his fifties, but he retained his muscular constitution from his past days as a hero.

He was standing between the two masked figures, dodging the projectiles made out of glass that were being thrown to him whilst trying to maintain in sight the long nosed figure, who was fighting four of the five remaining swords at the moment…

Four.

Another sword was then encased in glass and now layed on the floor, to the right of the masked figure with spirals. 9-Swords faced the glass maker with a smile before charging forward. He evaded most of the incoming glass bullets, but some of them did land. However, it appeared they were blunt and didn’t have an edge.

It was when the retired hero was five paces away from the black and scarlet foe that he extended his hands as if he was grabbing a sword.

The figure covered in red spirals had stopped throwing glass and instead had begun creating an elongated and thick cylinder of the same material. By the time 9-Swords was swinging his empty hands, the glass staff was already completed and in motion, aimed at the retired hero’s head.

A sword came flying in at the last moment, sliding in the slight aperture that 9-Swords’ hands composed just as he grabbed it tightly from its leather handle.

Metal and glass clashed, each making the other creak with a high pitch sound. The old eagle then used his weight with the momentum created by his lunge, throwing his opponent back and making him take a few steps to avoid falling, also using that to rotate around him and position the Neighbor covered in spirals and the long-nosed figure in the same line of sight afterwards.

The spiral-covered figure managed to defend himself from the attacks, efficiently using both sides of his staff to stop the relentless swings, but it was clear from the start who held the technical superiority with their weapon. For every movement that the glass maker used, 9-Swords answered with five different ones. It wasn’t the force behind them that made them dangerous, but the wrist movements behind most of them. They could change the direction of an attack, give him different angles for new ones, or just make them way faster than his opponent’s weapon.

The scarlet Neighbor must have known he wasn’t going to beat him like that. Friction looked like he knew as well. Even her, that she had no idea about sword fighting, knew it wasn’t likely.

Yet he persisted. With an enormous concentration, he eyed 9-Swords and his weapon, trying to remain standing for as long as possible.

Reveca scratched the floor with her gloves, feeling empathy for the poor Neighbor. She had also faced a professional hero, and it had been quite hard. Though, for different reasons.

The sound of broken metal caught her attention back. She looked at the pair facing off with their weapons, but they were still going at it. Her eyes then slowly turned to the long-nosed figure, and the three… Two swords surrounding him. The metallic weapons were now on the defensive as the masked figure gave them back all the trouble they had put them through.

Despite having positioned himself in a place where he could watch them both, 9-Swords couldn’t give the other swords the proper attention to keep the advantage.

And so he pushed his body forward.

His attacks became fiercer, sharper, and faster. In between some of the attacks, he even struck the Neighbor’s legs, making them tremble. Yet the glass maker kept his attention on the twisting and swirling sword.

Another crash of slivers. Two remaining.

9-Swords suddenly let his sword go from his hands. It began twirling in the air, making the Neighbor move his staff in order to block the apparent strike. But it didn’t come that way. The retired hero punched him in the jaw with a left hook.

The spiral-covered Neighbor fell to the ground, rendered unconscious with his glass staff on top of him.

A metallic clatter followed suit.

The remaining masked Neighbor grabbed what Reveca could now tell was a sheathed katana with both hands, while his identical white twin slowly took the same position he had, merging with him in the end.

9-Swords looked at his sword.

The medieval weapon passed from his left hand to his right one, the grip now reversed with the blade behind his back. Then, suddenly, the glass staff came spinning next to his side just as he began running towards the long-nosed Neighbor. Reveca watched how the glass weapon passed by the Neighbor before slowly changing directions, throwing itself to his back.

Despite her having two kinetic abilities, she still felt… Jealousy, when it came to telekinesis. Especially one as precise as 9-Swords’.

The old hero had been ‘heroing’ since almost the beginning, and throughout all the stories about him, two things remained consistent. His perfect precision, and his lacking strength. Not physical of course, but telekinetic.

If what she knew was correct, 9-Swords used, well, nine swords, because he couldn’t lift quite as much with his power. Some sources described him with the power of a level one telekinetic, and some with even less. Yet, that hadn’t stopped him much throughout his career. Right now, even age didn’t seem to take a toll on him.

The long-nosed Neighbor took a step forward, a white glistening figure taking shape behind him. Seconds after, the shirtless hero put his right hand behind his head before throwing the sword with an added telekinetic impulse, which almost made him fall, managing not only to retain his balance but also keep running.

The white copy materialized at last, breaking the giant glass rod with an immovable back before scattering its pieces across the red floor. At the same time, the standing Neighbor took a step to his right before striking the flying blade with the side of his weapon, deflecting it as well into his translucent twin and shattering it in the process. 9-Swords was a couple of paces away from the Neighbor when he veered to the right.

He, in fact, still had some ammunition left.

The Neighbor covered in scarlet spirals replaced the hero, causing a moment of confusion in his teammate. Both bodies crashed and fell to the black tiled floor where Reveca and Friction were standing, one on top of the other.

“Goddamn if I ain’t still young at heart! Woo!” 9-Swords said before laughing with his hands on his hips.

The long-nosed hero threw his teammate off of him, causing a groan of pain on the both of them.

“Well, that was nice. Our turn.”

Friction was already going up the stairs next to the ring when Reveca got a hold of her mind, sharing it with the returning anxiety. Her heart rate was going up, her hands began shaking, and her breathing became harder to control. She had been lost in the fight before her eyes, just like her concerns. Nevertheless, a brief rest hadn’t been all which she had gotten.

Six currents of air began filling the ring, flowing into the center of the platform. The shifting winds moved the tiny pieces of glass that littered the arena, making them twinkle as they were pushed.

“You don’t need to,” said a voice she hadn’t heard until now. Reveca looked behind her and saw the Neighbor covered in spirals, grabbing his lower back with his left hand. “I can do it. It’s my mess, after all.”

Despite what he had said, she ignored him. Cleaning wasn’t the plan.

The glass melted, gaining a warm orange as the body viscously crawled across the ring’s floor and the black tiles occupying the majority of the area. Its wake also moved the swords encased by the mass, which fell to the dark ground shortly after their release. Once it was all together, the melted and orange glass flowed up, defying gravity as it turned itself into an ornamented and beautiful cane.

“Agh!” Exclaimed the glass maker as he let his weight fall onto the stick. “Why do I have to act as the old one when you’re sixty?”

“First,” 9-Swords answered, “I’m fifty-five. Second, not my problem.”

“Are you coming?” Friction inquired. “ Come one, hop into the ring before I freeze waiting.”

Reveca looked at the man as she took her first steps.

(How long do I have until he knows something’s up?)

She then stepped into the ring and walked in front of Friction as she found her spot. However, she made sure to circle around the center of the ring before coming to a stop.

“Hey, Jim,” Friction said to 9-Swords, whose identity was… Relatively known among the populus. “Mind giving us a countdown?”

“Sure. Three…”

Reveca jumped as the count began, tightening her fist and compressing the bubble. She could feel how the temperature dropped around it.

“Two…”

She felt the air crunch, how the mass in it became heavier and colder, as if a tiny part of the ocean, pressure included, had been transported to the ten by five ring where she and Friction were standing.

“One…”

She wasn’t sure if she had ever compressed air to this degree. Reveca didn’t know what it would be capable of, but it would be something serious, that was for sure. Even retaining it was difficult. Maybe it was too much…

A strange pressure took hold of her chest. She had to know…

“Go!”

It was at that moment when Reveca finally understood what Gravity had meant. The thought of hurting someone… It was uncomfortable. Even if she imagined the other person being a criminal or someone that put the lives of innocent people at risk, it was too hard.

She definitely wouldn’t have been capable of pushing through if it weren’t for that. But it was, and the bubble popped.

Friction was already sliding across the floor at a surprising speed when the air escaped its tiny prison, a weird and uncomfortable tearing sound accompanying it through the entirety of the room. The hero put his hands in front of him, but the frenetic and rumbling air bent them in an unnatural angle whilst it pushed the rest of his body out of the raised ground.

Reveca put her left arm in front of her face as a shining yellow became the only source of light in the room. The air pushed against her as well, but the couple of other currents she had created and the stance close to the floor helped her keep her balance. With strands of hair in her face, the miniature storm kept assaulting the training facility for a few extra moments until it finally calmed itself down.

Except for the area surrounding the ring, the room hadn’t been damaged. And even the damage the high platform had suffered wasn’t all that much. Sunken areas filled the red floor in its center, its frequency also decreasing as they moved away from it.

A groan of pain coming from outside the ring caught her attention just as the emergency lights tried to compete with the blinding one. Nonetheless, their appearance was all that it took to turn off the yellow beam. As soon as she recovered her sight, Reveca headed to the foul-mouthed voice that was vehemently expressing its pain. She went to help Friction, but 9-Swords was already ahead of her and was pulling him up from the floor with his telekinesis.

“Are you okay?” Reveca asked.

“-and his mother,” Friction finished before looking at her. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

Her eyes fell onto his hands. They were as limp as an old rag.

Reveca then tried to say something else, but silence was the only thing that came out of her mouth. Not because she didn’t know what to say, but because she knew it wasn’t good enough. Instead, she followed the group composed by the retired hero and both Neighbors surrounding Friction.

“Come. Rasheek will patch you up,” 9-Swords assured Friction.

“Can’t we go to someone else? Rasheek creeps me out,” the long-nosed Neighbor said with an accent packed with hard sounds.

“You don’t have a say in this,” the Neighbor covered in spirals answered him.

They left the room, but before doing the same, Reveca turned around and looked at the floating figure near the ceiling above the ring. A dark hole stood where lamps should have been hanging.

She sighed.

Reveca didn’t need visual confirmation to know that she had deflected a good chunk of the pressure to the ceiling, but she had hoped that the damage wasn’t so bad. She turned around and finally left the room.

Even though she had broken her teacher’s hands and a good chunk of the ceiling on her first day in the Neighbor Training Facility, an asphyxiating happiness followed her into the tower.