The alarm clock blared for barely one note before it was silenced, Seth was fully awake, or better yet he could barely sleep in the first place. Joining the League of Supers had been about the only dream he’s ever had, and that’s saying something for someone who doesn't even dream. But now… now he was really doing it. He’d had to cut things close to the start of their application deadline, basically their start date, but materials take time. And serendipity seemed to like him.

He was up, his bed made in short order. If he was ever coming back here it wouldn’t be for a while. A stuffed rucksack was laid next to the door, full of everything he had, so not really much other than clothes and souvenirs. A prepped grey t-shirt and jeans were already on him and a loaded down toast with peanut butter and banana already getting eaten. His application paper spread out on the table in front of him for review. Some of the info had to be fudged a little, all the files on him were in limbo since the orphanage closed.

Seth T., Age: 21. Hair: white. Eyes: hazel. Blood type:

‘Eh… unknown.’

Height: 6.1’. Weight: 180 ‘ish’. Address: 20090 Mako Rd. Apartment: 304. City: Kadia

‘Yadda yadda, nothing I can’t talk out of if it came to it.’

Fed and ready, Seth set out to grab the last thing he needed. Stepping out and locking his apartment up, he saw Ms. Mahan was climbing the stairs again after getting her mail.

“Morning… Ms. Mahan…”

Seth wasn’t good with actual goodbyes. He met her at the landing to her apartment, shouldered rucksack making it obvious he was leaving for a while.

“I-”

“Oh! Just go follow your dream already!”

Seth went flat.

“What? You thought you were sneaky about it? Well ‘Old Ms. Mahan’s’ been around the block more times than you could imagine. Seen enough young kids go off to do good in this world. Seen them get the shit knocked out of them sure, but you can’t keep em down for long. And let me tell you something…”

She squinted close, her oddly blue eyes more apparent.

“You’ve gottem beat in more regards than you know. So don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you understand. You deserve a chance at legitimacy. Now go and beat the crap out of whatever they throw at you. And come back a hero, I don’t want to be the only one living in this dump.”

Seth shook off the sudden cascade of unexpected motivation and smiled, he knew she was keeping quiet but this was something else. He nodded and turned down the stairs, a hell of a lot more confident than before.

“And if you get the chance…”

Seth turned back as she was closing her door.

“Tell Aegis to stop holding back so much.”

Seth froze ‘Wait, how does she-’ before she slammed her door shut and broke his questions apart. He shook the feeling away, he needed to focus. Storming outside, he skipped the stoop again and flung the hastily repaired garage door up without a second thought. The full suit was hunkered down in its berth, ready to be picked up and hauled all the way to The Hill.

And that’s exactly what he was going to have to do. The bus sure as hell wasn’t going to handle this much weight. And it was one thing to storm across the city with an empty suit frame, couldn’t get away with that in a fully enclosed battlesuit. Probably get arrested in seconds. He stuffed his rucksack into the suit. It was folded in, but the chest cavity was spacious enough. Grabbing the suit by the hold at the scruff of its neck, he strained yet still tossing it over his shoulder. Thudding the air as too much weight found its seat. One last look back and his garage was shut tight for one last time. A new journey just starting.

Walking all the way downtown was going to take hours, and carrying well over a thousand pounds of metal wasn’t going to make it an easy jog either. But Seth could do this no problem. Besides, he’d barely seen much of the city from street level. Kadia was the picture of a moderate metropolis, spreading out over a foot hill hemmed bay, complete with the end point of the Terrace River. Downtown radiated out from a few purpose built districts. The park that was destroyed yesterday was the business district, while the main portion of the residential areas surrounded the edge of the main district. The one with The Hill at its center. Skyscrapers rose up higher the closer you got to a district’s center, and flattened out with distance. The only dingy spot on the map was the industrial district that clogged up the east side around the river, everywhere else was basically the picture of comfortable living. Just about all of that was thanks to the League, decades of peace keeping efforts and community programs keeping the city just as prosperous as it was just. Though those programs had stagnated in recent years.

Most days the sirens never go off, just about all the major villains were in jail already, and crime was a hard sell given the opportunities… and the proximity to said swift justice. So the city was quiet, just the usual din of commuters and traffic accentuated by intermittent crowds that thronged the occasional street market or shopping center. There were still a few banners up from Remembrance Week, and a lot of the shops liked to sell memorabilia from the crisis to tourists, so the walk wasn't without a bit of trouble. But he'd had plenty of time to get used to this city's love of its heroes... and the constant reminders to... 'grh'. He shook those memories away as he passed the market, he had a future to worry about more than a past to remember.

And maybe be a bit of present to worry about as well. People going about their own days’ watched or got out of his way as he kept a steady pace toward The Hill. He heard a few assume him to be a hero given the ridiculous weight on his back, that worry they were about to thank him kept his head down. But those misunderstandings were quieted as soon as they understood it was a suit hucked over his shoulder.

Powersuits were losing favor in the public eye. Weaker villains found them very enticing as an equalizer, and the rich saw them as an easy means to clout and hero-dom. Seth really didn’t have time to correct the misunderstandings about his suit though. Applications closed less than an hour before the training class started up proper. He had to keep moving. Luckily he wasn’t stopped by any actual heroes or the cops on his way, hauling a legally grey battlesuit through downtown would still have been an issue. Finally reaching The Hill though, Seth realized he had forgotten the other issue awaiting him.

The Hill was the League of Supers’ main hub for the Kadia metropolitan area and surrounding areas covered by smaller League outposts, meaning this base held sway over practically three states worth of territory. It boasted several hangers for both VTOL transports and road worthy armored vehicles. It also had several levels worth of barracks, labs, armories, and evacuation shelters. But at its precipice was the main hall, consisting of the training barracks, logistical command, and the main arena, the main training ground for all the heroes that worked out of the base.

The only issue was that all of that was built into an artificial mountain that dominated a massive plaza in the center of the city, and the only official entrance was at the top, up a horrendously long staircase. Escalators and service lifts flanked the stairs sure, but it was a requirement that most heroes had to climb it. Or at least that’s what the sign in front of it said. Also those escalators sure weren’t going to handle his weight and the service lifts were for official cargo only, so he had little choice. He had to get climbing.

Starting up, it was clear this was a task in and of itself. Climbing several thousand steps was arduous enough on its own, but the armor was really starting to feel heavy on his back. Each step got tougher and tougher with elevation, the suit heavier and heavier. On his way up, Seth passed a few ancillary heroes, mostly just supporters that fill niches or just staff the facility. They ignored him, focusing on their own accents or just not caring about another recruit trying to join. It was clear that some were more skeptical of him. Through burning breaths he caught a few eyeing him, and his suit. He kept going, but he could feel their ire. Heroes had a lot more reason to hate powersuits. By the last third he was just about climbing on all fours… threes, struggling for every step up. His carrying arm burned, his knees ached, he was surprised his shoes were holding up so well. Nearing the end he just stopped feeling the pain, picking up speed when he remembered he was on a time limit. His muscles were worn, his bones creaking, but he didn’t slow down.

When he finally reached the top, he dragged himself up right and gave a haggard “WOooohuHAh”, almost falling over as the suit dragged him back. His legs were shaking as he resteadied himself. Too close for comfort and not the time for adrenaline. A little bit of calming hacks and he was passing through the glass façade of the main entrance.

The foyer of the hall was a godsend of AC and inspiring atmosphere. Spacious tiled floors, flanking statues and displays to various heroes, even some villain trophies. A bronze bust of Dr. Macroscopic, a gaudy ‘statue’ from Ms. Maleficence’s lair, a painting of the Kashmir Peace Accord, all manner of records and relics from the League’s escapades. At the center, standing over the reception desk, was the main memorial though. A massive marble statue depicting several heroes, both powered and unpowered, defending The Wall during the crisis. Seth didn’t stop to admire though, he didn’t even really notice it. The only thing he could really care for was reception.

Lugging his armor over to the marble and granite desk was a final hurdle of arduous strain and dying out adrenaline. Yet the receptionist, an almost out of place woman with straight red hair, paid little mind. Her face was stuck down in a tablet, reading something good enough to keep her attention from her duties, good enough for Seth to trudge up in exponentially haggard sway to her desk without notice.

Just as he reached it, his legs finally gave out and he collapsed about. His back hit the desk face, but the suit slammed down facing it and sprang out of its compact form. The massive bang startling her to attention, the ‘Receptionist Felicia’ placard bouncing off her counter. She was left facing a towering metal behemoth staring down on her. Until her fright was broken by Seth’s hand reaching over the counter and slapping his application form down on it. Broken from her momentary terror, Felicia pulled herself up and looked down over her counter at him, passed out and propped up against her desk, smiling from ear to ear. He’d made it in time.

One of the side locker rooms for the arena was given up so the trainees could prep themselves for what was ahead of them. Twelve entrants had signed up ahead of Seth, not too many prestigious names to muddy things thankfully. But there were plenty of heavy hitters in this group. A shower and a bit of rest gave him time to recharge, and a chance to change out of his street clothes. Decked out in a custom connector suit he’d saved for this day, a dark grey padded two piece jacket and pants that were a little close to skin tight. Judging from the competition though, this wasn’t out of the ordinary. He passed by several of his fellow trainees as he traversed the locker room back to where he left his suit.

There was a guy wearing a full leotard, very professionally hand stitched from the look of it, but with oddly thick red threading. His motif was obviously fiery with flames sewn into place across his suit, but the threading stood out as it wrapped around his arms exponentially until it ended at his wrists. His hair wasn’t quite red, but close, but his eyes were definitely red, and glaring at Seth as he passed. He almost ran into another trainee as he looked away quickly.

She was a fairly tall girl in a green and white suit, with emphasis on the green, like a poison dart frog with a similar pattern. Her suit was old in design though, similar to Aegis’s, probably surplus from the crisis. It had a laser symbol kind of sloppily sewn on to the shoulder, with an even more obnoxious green standing it out from the suit. Her hair was blond but with… green streaks. ‘This girl loves green for some reason.’ And her eyes were… ‘Oh thank god their brown.’ She wasn’t paying Seth as much attention, seeming to be psyching herself up rather shakily.

Halfway to the suit Seth caught sight of the only major name he knew, the son of Makani Samurai, Kaze. His motif was nearly a copy of his father’s, driftwood armor in a lightly plated samurai format. But his was only half, a single pauldron on the left side and only the shin guards on his legs. His clothes were similar, baggy robes Seth couldn’t remember the proper name for, but they were half open revealing his right shoulder. His hair was cut short and black, and his eyes green like his father’s. He was also minding his own business, meditating or simply waiting patiently.

The last obstacle between Seth and his suit was a guy flinging a… box cutter? No, more like a large razor blade with a handle. He flicked it up and caught it, absentmindedly staring ahead with a pissed off look on his face, but it had a hint of internalized fear to it oddly enough. His suit was ramshackle, baggy dark orange cargo pants with dark red holsters crowding all over it and a basic black t-shirt, also covered in holsters. Each of these holsters had another razor knife. He also seemed to have worn out fingerless gloves on, a single large gash on each palm. His hair was brown and slightly long, but cut into a sensible fauxhawk with short sides. His eyes were a dark blue and, once they saw Seth, glared with disdain… and fear.

Seth paid little mind to the glares, he expected it honestly, just maybe not so soon though. Thankfully these glares were the only things he was on the receiving end of, the fear of getting kicked out for starting a fight seemed to keep people in line. But besides some basic rules, Seth didn’t know anything about what he was walking into, just that it was infamous for the failure rate being high. Whatever was waiting for him though, he was ready for it.

He stepped up to his suit, tucked out of the way next to the laundry hampers since it was too big to leave out among the lockers. Stepping in, the suit conformed to him like a dream, snapping connectors together, gel pressing and conforming nicely, swiveling joints and servos to every movement. He closed up but kept the helmet open, joints disconnected and folded back over his collar. ‘Don’t want to set some kind of edgy precedent.’ Despite the weight of material though, the suit didn’t bulk up his profile, looking more compact than expected. That is, expected by the other trainees who had redoubled their glares at him like he was some kind of imposter. He continued to ignore them, instead stretching and making sure every joint and servo had full motion.

Barely a moment in, the door to the arena opened. A dark figure stepped… practically clanged into the room in front of everyone. He was wearing armor, full medieval plate, but it was matte navy blue. Wait, Seth knew this guy, it was Mediknight. He even had the red crosses on his shoulders and helmet. He was the Elite’s healer, though he only ever left The Hill in dire circumstances. He headed the medical ward onsite, but ‘Why was he here?’

“We’re ready for you.”

His voice echoed out of his armor rather monotonically, he’d done and seen this before and wasn’t expecting much from these trainees, or he just didn’t care in the first place. He was always known for his poor bedside manner, but his healing abilities were second to none. He could radially heal a considerable area, repair limbs with nothing but his hands. It wouldn’t be surprising if he could bring the recently deceased back to life.

He turned back out the door, letting the trainees funnel out into the arena, the light from outside washing out everything beyond. Seth waited until everyone else was out, didn’t want to get in the way or anything, but also he wanted one last moment of peace. The growing quiet enough to get a final pep talk from Speaker and Threat.

“You have striven for this moment, it is time you showed that you deserve this power. Go now, and see if we deserve to have our sins forgiven!”

“Way to lay everything on him Speaker. You’ve got this, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Seth smiled and stepped out the door, into the beaten sands beyond.

The arena was massive, bigger than you’d think an already stuffed complex situated on an artificial mountain would be, but… ‘Damn is it big.’ The stands were the obvious cut back, only five rows of simple stone seats, but the central area was expansive. Several lines denoted various sections, so multiple different groups could train or operate without encroaching inadvertently. There were several doors around the periphery, massive garages and storage rooms, various other locker rooms both personal and public, even a main entrance on the east side for ceremonies.

There was a booth that loomed over the main entrance side, reflective and probably plated glass windows obscured its contents, but it was sure to be the main hub for the arena’s rumored plethora of systems. The roof was opened up to the bare sky, the skyscrapers of downtown just barely peeking over the rim of the retractable shutters. The floor was sand, but it was heavy, compacted, and almost didn’t even give a centimeter of depth despite Seth’s crunching weight.

The section he headed for was off to the side, close to the south wall. At its center was a tall man with his back to the approaching trainees, Mediknight had pulled off to the wall behind them, observing. The man wore what looked to be a modified military BDU, camo exchanged for simple light grey. The uniform had no vest, instead looked to have plating under it similar to the others, but what drew Seth’s attention was an arm patch with a sonic wave form on it. It was Parasonic, another of the Elite. Seth didn’t know him very well, but he had a reputation.

The trainees slowly walked toward their new trainer, some with similar hesitation, others with more general hesitation at the imposing figure that seemed to ignore their approach. The air surrounding him oozed contempt, a little bit of pride, and, as far as Seth could tell, someone a little too in to military cosplay. Before the trainees could near Para, he-

“LINE UP MAGGOTS!!”

Ok he may be playing it up a little.

The trainees winced back and looked at each other, a few spotted a half buried line in the sand and aligned themselves to it, Seth moved and lined up at the right end.

“I SAID LINE UP!!!”

The lineup recoiled and looked at each other in confusion, Seth looked down at his feet in line with the others. It wasn’t him. He looked down the line and saw that the razor knife user was too far forward, basically not even on the line anymore. He leaned over to get his attention, as did several others who spotted him. He looked back and forth, confused, looked down at his positioning and looked up even more confused.

“How could he-”

“I DON’T NEED MY EYES TO SEE YOU’RE OUT OF LINE!! NOW CORRECT IT!!!”

He quickly shuffled back in line, thoroughly intimidated into submission.

“Now then!”

Para turned, revealing glaring greyed eyes under his short brown hair. The glare scanning over each trainee, not showing a single hint of emotion, even when he got to Seth’s metallic carapace. Satisfied he began walking over to the left most trainee, obviously intent on inspecting each of them more closely.

First up was a grey haired boy wearing another of those surplus super suits, soft grey and blue in color.

“Alright son, tell me your name and your power.”

The boy tensed in response, the faux drill sergeant’s gruff yell had been replaced with a smoother more relaxed disposition.

“I… My name is… My name is Aquanaught sir! And-”

Para audibly slapped his face with his hand, dragging it down slowly, almost wiping away the improvement in his demeanor before snapping back to it.

“No, I mean your real name, though your hero name sounds like you’ve got it down.”

The boy hesitated, but reaffirmed.

“My name is David and m-my power is I can control and create water.”

“There, not so bad. Now, since you control water and are still woefully unprepared for the hell you just stepped in, I’m going to call you Waterboy from now on. Ok?”

“I-”

“Ok!”

Well this was going to get ugly. But if childish nicknames were the worst he had then good. But this was really starting to confuse everyone that expected Parasonic, the Elite’s hardass guard dog, to be the bane of their ambitions.

Done with his first trainee, Para continued down the line. Next up was the girl with what could only be described as a green fetish.

“Same thing miss, name and power.”

“M-my name is Marketa but you can call me Zeleny if…”

Para stopped her with a hand up and disapproving look.

“Zeleny? ...I’m just going to go out on a limb and say you shoot green lasers somehow. Am I wrong?”

The girl looked down in mixed embarrassment, tapping her index fingers together.

“I shoot them from my hands.”

Para sighed and muttered something dripping with disappointment.

“Welp, I’m going to call you Green Thumb and be done with it.”

Zeleny looked up in slight resentment, but deflated before she could say anything.

Para continued. Next was another girl who wore a brick red tank-top and the bottoms from a surplus super suit colored the same with beige accents. Seth was surprised he didn’t see her in the locker room, mostly because she was absolutely built. But despite her obvious strength she was actually shorter than Zeleny, her medium brunette hair stopping a good foot below her.

“Name and power.”

Para was already over formalities.

“Maya sir. I can control various building materials.”

“…Building materials? Little lady there is a brick shit house joke here, but for the life of me I can’t get over this. Why are you here? You can get a job in an instant with a power like that, why-“

Maya almost snarled.

“I don’t want to be a damn builder! My entire family is nothing but builders! I want to be something more than just my family’s next in line!”

Para reeled back.

“Well… Combo Breaker it is then.”

Maya didn’t look thrilled, but she seemed to expect this.

“Name and power!”

Next in line was the guy with the homemade flame suit.

“Name’s Kabar, and I can generate extreme heat.”

Para seemed unsurprised.

“So what, are you going to bake your enemies into submission by hugging them with your toaster coil looking arms there?”

Kabar smirked and chuffed slightly before letting those same coils loose to fall at his sides.

“No, I’m going to burn and beat the shit out of them with these flaming whips of mine.”

In that instant the gaudy red threads lit up, igniting into full flames across his suit and down to the loose lines at his sides. Maya and the trainee on the other side of him pulled away as the heat got too intense. Para seemed impressed to say the least.

“Well now. You have some ingenuity then… I’m still calling you Toaster though.”

And just as quickly the flames were snuffed out with Kabar’s ego.

“Name, Power, come on we are still not even halfway through.”

The guy he was rushing looked still overwhelmed by Kabar’s flames, but quickly steadied himself.

“My… My name is Jacob and I can make and control ice.”

His suit didn’t give off any hint of this, it was a modified firefighting suit, in that it was recolored to have blueish grey fabric on the hazard stripes.

“Hmm… Jacob Whalen by chance?”

He froze.

“Yeah.”

Para smiled, sinisterly.

“Your mom’s one hell of a firefighter you know that. You’ve got some shoes to fill Snowcone.”

Jacob drooped in disappointment, looking like he had heard that nickname before.

Para continued, though didn’t stop to ask Kaze for his details.

“I already know what you can do Kaze.”

“And I expect no special treatment from you Para-sensei.”

“Oh believe me you’ll get none, I assure you… Your dad would kill me if I did anyway.”

Para continued on, not even bothering to ask the next trainee her name and power, just stare down at her. Blond waves reeling back and revealing green nervous glaces. Her surplus suit was baggy, almost a size too big, but was darkly camouflage, tiger striped, and cut off short at the extremities.

“Uh… My name is Tabatha. But my friends call me Tabby.”

Para glared down at Tabby without changing expressions.

“Ugh I-I’m able to mimic various cat species both in ability and form.”

Para turned his head for a second in contemplation before immediately shaking the thought away.

“You’re lucky Tabby, you already have a fitting nickname. But don’t wear that luck out, understand?”

“Crystal, sir!”

Para continued on again, still silent, but looking grumpier by the second. His next victim was the razor knife wielder, who was very much trying not to look intimidated.

“My name is *ghf* is…”

He was deflating rapidly.

“Razor sir.”

Para looked down at him in unsurprised disappointment.

“And?”

“And… I can make these awesome knives from my hands.”

Para remained unimpressed.

“So are you collecting them or do you just not want to part with what is basically your weaponized bodily secretions.”

“GAH! They’re not… ugh. Making them is a process so I prepare before…”

“Whatever Butterknife.”

Razor’s pride was visibly shot down in the prime of its desperately delinquent life. And Para just kept walking.

Next up was a girl…no… a woman wearing an absolutely glistening red dress, her long and light red hair flowing almost unnaturally in the… not wind. Para immediately popped the illusion, literally with a flick to the woman’s head revealing a mostly normal girl with at least similar features, though no fancy dress or flowing long hair. Her suit was skin tight though, a drab beige with barely noticeable padding in the needed areas. Her hair was very short, but still a light red.

“Heh… My name's Alex and I’m a doppelganger.”

Para glared down, but more softly than before.

“Trying to win favor with looks is going to cost you, and I don’t think you can handle it if all you can do is play pretend.”

Alex smiled a bit at this.

“Well it’s a good thing I can copy powers if I try hard enough.”

Para hardened up a bit.

“Oh is that so… well then I expect you to make my ass look good as I run you into the ground, Ditto!”

Alex’s expression contorted at this, more out of disgust than resentment. Seth looked a little longer at Alex in his peripheral, he could slightly feel the Garkah muse about the issues her powers represented.

Para continued on regardless, a guy with dark hair, blue eyes, and wearing a simple white gi with barely noticeable yellow accents was next. The guy never moved from attention.

“My name is Marco sir, I can punch with air.”

Para looked unimpressed again. But Marco noticed this and took a different stance. It was wide and stable but wouldn’t transfer much force into a punch. Para stepped out of the way slightly. Marco pulled his fist in, the air around it visibly distorting. A sudden light jab bahped forward, but the distortion shot away, sending a pocket of air rocketing out. Impacting the far wall, blasting a crack into it and kicking up sand from the floor. Para looked slightly more impressed, but only slightly.

”Good form, but don’t let it slow you down in combat, hmm… *snap* Polo.”

Marco grimaces silently, but regained his respectful attention.

Para continued on, next was a girl with an odd fashion sense. Her surplus suit was cut in two, midriff bare for all to see, but the concerning part was the color, or rather the texture. It was black leather, complete with small spikes on the shoulder joints, and… a lot of added belts, like too many belts. Her dyed black hair was in twin pigtails as well, just all around adding to the concern presented by the smile she was wearing as Para reached her. He was also visibly concerned, which seemed to only feed into the girl’s beaming smile.

“Hehe, my name is Cleo, and Iiii control bindings!”

As she said this she struck a light upward pose and several black leather straps appeared out of thin glowing air around her, wiggling and flailing around looking for purchase on anything they could wrap around. Everyone around her took an immediate step back in unison, even Para.

“Oh boy… Well, Punk Princess, if you even think of doing what I can only horrifyingly think of you doing with those to me or your fellow trainees, I’m going to take away all your personal clothing and force you to wear a puritan dress. Understood?”

Cleo didn’t change expression, instead she dispelled the bindings and took on an overtly innocent sway.

“♪I’ll hold you to that♪”

“♪I’ll fucking kill you♪”

Para quickly moved on to the next trainee, a guy in another surplus super suit. It was colored plainly, simple grey with darker grey accents. ‘He didn’t really change the suit when he got it did he?’ He’s at least put a custom patch on it, but it was just an Omega symbol. His hair was somewhat spiked but short and dark. His eyes were almost gold though. Para regarded him with some amount of disdain, but still asked in the end.

“Name and power?”

The guy looked up at him with a smug look.

“Hmm… May as well stick to the format, my name is Ohmega and I’m a little bit of everything.”

Para was tired of him before he even opened his mouth.

“If you’re going to be obstinate I’m going to-”

“I know, tell my dad. But really, did we really need to get to know each other. It’s stupid to think…”

Ohmega’s mouth kept moving but no one heard any more words from him. He noticed it and sneered at Para, who had a hand slightly raised. He was drowning out his voice, an inaudible tone emanating from his palm.

“He wasn’t lying about being a bit of everything. He’s fast and strong. The main thing is he gets his power from electricity he takes in. Something about absorbing resistance or whatever.”

Para let up on the dampening, Ohm sneering harder but relented back into smug nonchalance.

“It’s not like any of these losers can really challenge me! So whatever, why not just tell them my middle name and social security number! It won’t help them!”

The lineup collectively glared over at him, but Para held a hand up to calm them.

“We’re doing this because they all need to understand what they're getting into, a world that knows everything about them. Where advantage is earned, not had. Where you need to be prepared for every eventuality, even your fellow heroes turning against you.”

Para moved off and finally regarded Seth, standing nearly eye to eye thanks to the suit.

“Which brings me to you."

Disdain all too palpable.

"Step out of the suit.”

Seth hesitated, but knew it was necessary for the lesson.

He opened up, taking a step back and stepping out of the suit so he remained in line, the suit standing slightly over him but still stood mostly eye to eye.

“My names-”

“I don’t care what your name is. I don’t care what power you make up as an excuse. I’ve seen too many of you silver spooned Tinmen to deal with your bullshit.”

“I-”

“I’m only going to give you this one chance. Leave. Turn around, take your powersuit and leave.”

“It’s not a-”

“I. Don’t. Care."

The air pulled taut in an instant.

"You walked in here thinking you were ready to be a hero, because you thought you had everything. Money to burn or connections to pull. Well trust me you aren’t, you don’t, and your only chance at getting out with what little pride you have intact is to leave. Now!”

Seth met Para’s glare beat for beat. He wasn’t expecting this kind of hostility so quickly, let alone this kind of stubborn bias. But despite that… he wasn’t going to be intimidated out of this.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The unflinching moment lingered for longer than anyone could stand, heart beating in Seth’s ears and tension bristling him. Yet Para relinquished first, straightening back and moving on.

“Fine then.”

He turned and headed back to his original spot away from the lineup, leaving Seth to deal with the wound up state he was in.

“Now! As ‘Clarence’ so rudely spoiled, this was a lesson for the lot of you. None of you are expected to pass this course. Some may flunk out today.”

Para turned to Seth to amplify his disdain, meeting a justified glare in return.

“Some may choke at the last possible minute. Whatever stands in your way, you need to understand that you hold no advantages here, not even over each other. Everyone is going to get to know each other, their strengths, their weaknesses, what makes them wet the bed.”

Para turned to David at the front of the line just to rub in the joke.

“You’re going to learn both how to fight each other and how to work with each other. That’s the nature of this world, constant struggle with forces no one hero can surmount, and constant honing to ensure no one dies fruitlessly on the field of battle. To that end, your first assignment is a FREE FOR ALL!!”

The lineup reeled and roiled at this, some fretting having to fight each other, others basically itching to beat the shit out of someone. Para held up a hand one last time.

“A few standard rules. No excessive offensive powers, can’t have you lighting anyone ON FIRE or something. Enhanced attacks are okay, but nothing lethal. Mediknight can fix a brick coated punch to the gut, but not if it goes all the way through. Crowd control and movement are okay. Yes, I’m allowing you to bind people.”

Cleo clapped giddily at this.

“WITHIN REASON, NO MUMMIFICATION!!”

She dejectedly deflated from her elation.

“Lastly, something special.”

Para boisterously pointed a finger at Seth.

“The first one to knock Tinman over here out gets special training courtesy of the Elite.”

Seth flinched, quickly turning to see the damn near the whole line glaring back with death in their eyes. A beat of adrenaline and a reach back for his suit was all he got before-

“BEGIN!!!”