Concealment from reality, while in this instance the most desirable potentially given the details of such reality, was in this one instance not gifted given that the physical room is exposed to be one with sizable volume akin to a warehouse enclosed by dark metal walls and visible other rooms accessible on upper floors reachable by bridges along the edges. The room itself has the height potential of three stories with the ceiling slanted down towards the far end, all of the surfaces emitting an adequate although not particularly bright light with faint blue hues.

The more intense source of illumination however comes from the center of the room, specifically from clusters of hologram projections curved and surrounding the man in blue standing in the center, reading the screens casually while standing.

Passively radiating although nowhere as strongly as the screens is the frosty crystallic pencil etched into the golden pauldron that slides into the shoulder and upper arm, the lower arm not reflecting as much light as there is instead a black gauntlet with a more matte finish than the metallic of the golden. Only the front half of the pauldron is visible however as the back is hidden behind the smooth black cape with a fabric design similar to chainmail although significantly denser, a cape that does not actually attach to the rest of the body but instead lingers just slightly off. Attached to that cape is a hood, although one let down currently, instead letting the head exposed and the wavy black hair feel the air, the curls on the edges jutting out like solar rays.

Circling around the man are the various windows on the screens of articles and logs, but notably few of them are diagrams and blueprints of various types of devices with one being a small green plate overlaid with smaller golden segments only marginally separate, segments in various sizes as some edges are straight with others slanted. Each of those segments are touched by a line that reaches to the side of the plate and leads to a block of text that passively scrolls down seemingly without end.

The holograms are not close enough together to form a tight seal, but instead have margins in between them to allow for easy view of the dark room. In front of the man where his gaze currently is occupied are more diagrams but these of chemical compounds and densely written equations of complicated size. Beside them are diagrams too of what are shaped as assault rifles but below them other diagrams of different firearms from smaller Colt-designed pistols and sleek sniper rifles, all circling around another diagram of a silver plate containing smaller components of differently colored plates all of them connected to lines that lead to their own text blocks.

Also on one of the projections being faced is an image, although one that doesn’t hold the same productivity relevance but instead is a portrait of five adults who, despite being the age where they could be parents, show a childlike zest. The photograph is clearly taken by the one in the center, a Latino man with a casual azure bomber jacket with a yellow collar and white collared shirt, complementary to those azure eyes shining like his grin. On the right side of the man is another man although taller with a darker tone of skin and a face more chiseled and aged. Longer is his hair too albeit parted, and he’s dressed in a familiar leather biker jacket with silver accents, his more brooding appearance aligned with his shadow irises. On the other side of the man is a woman a bit shorter but not by a great deal with a North Asian complexion and silky sleek long black hair that draped down to her black hoodie colored with subtle purple streaks along the sleeves. Of the three in the front her smile was the widest as were her purple eyes. Behind the three but visible between twos are the two other adults, the one on the right being a man with a skinnier build in a white tracksuit with the shortest hair that being in blonde, short but messy, or rather carefree given his stance as he wraps his arms around the two in front with one around the central man and another around the taller in the leather. His vibrant light blue eyes shine like his smile too as his body was leaning against theirs, similar although not nearly as hyper as the woman beside him dressed in a forest green summer dress befitting of her emerald eyes in front of her thick long brown hair. She smiles too but more peacefully, almost maternally, both of her arms braced around the woman in front of her, her arms and hands crossed in front. While the view behind the five is not as visible due to the amount of the image taken up by them, there is what appears to be a beach given the yellow sand behind them and the bright blue waters further along the shore, the photograph taken in a day without clouds allowing the supersun to bring brighter shades to the whole environment.

On the other side of the viewer are more screens of other diagrams with large raised platforms surrounded by poles that arch to make a roof by the center as well as an article titled ‘Watchdog Outpost Found In Ruins’ with the article dated beneath reading ‘July 13rd, 2859.’

Behind the man are a few more screens of more schematics and blueprints, although unfocused on by the man who just stares forth in a monotonously fatigued face expressionless, his face similar to the photographer of the aforementioned picture albeit aged more with the face harder, and while his irises are also azure they lack the same particular gleam. He subtly frowns, not in a deep sadness but in a melancholic neutrality that is occupied only with himself, solitudinous in the vast yet ultimately hollow room.

In the crevice between two of the behind holograms there is the sight of an approaching slender figure cast in shadows, a silent figure that moves swiftly undetected, creeping up on the man methodically.

Abruptly a translucent blue netted wall flashes into appearance against the figure, knocking him back with a familiarly raspy: “Argh!”

Before the next second can strike the man’s eyes tighten to a glare and he swivels around with his arm raised and hand coiled in the contortion of wielding a trigger that’s about to be manifested from the azure sparks emitting from his hand that faces straight at Ekitai on the other side of the net who cries, “Wait wait!”

Suspended in a stance pointing straight at the intruder but with no weapon created, the man in blue just glares with shimmering irises, every muscle completely still, his aim trained without the most subtle of wavering.

Visible past the translucent net barrier stands Ekitai with his hands up in surrender, his brown overcoat’s sleeves rolled down to expose his bony arms with the right one’s wrist infused with a strange mechanical implant of a circular disk surrounded by bolts all stuck through the body in a way that appears painful.

Unconcerned with the infusion he just soothes although with a voice anything but: “What you got on here anyways? What is this?”

Disturbed from his research but not intruded to the extent that warrants physical retaliation, Meditat just lowers his arm and sighs as all of his holograms simultaneously vanish, his work being closed as no longer was his space only his own.

He then makes a gesture of waving his hand while beginning to explain: “It’s just a safety net.”

“Prevents any accidental injuries with people coming in since the practice here can become quite intense,” is elaborated as the waving of the hand seemingly deactivates the net given its disappearance, and after a few moments of contemplation of safety Ekitai takes one long stride forward, able to step over the barrier to which he resumes his casual stroll up whilst glancing curiously at the room.

“So this some kind of training room then? Huh I don’t think there were any in the house,” notes Ekitai with intrigue.

“There was, although that’s no longer accessible,” corrects Meditat as he folds his arms over his chest to the slight irritation of the intrusion regardless of its innocuous nature. In the training room the man wore the battle suit, and yet even with the proper attire perhaps for the first time his activity was still out of place.

Noting that is Ekitai with: “Well doesn’t look like you’re doing much training, also huh do these lights get any brighter?”

“They do and I was, I was just on a break to do some research since I have some compensation of history to attend to,” again corrects Meditat, slipping his arms out of his brace and raising one hand forward which summons a different holographic screen in front, although a new one with a square shape whose content is formatted as an options menu with various rows of meters and checkboxes.

He begins to swiftly tap on various checkboxes and slide meters before swiping to scroll down and repeat in what seems to be a setup to resume the appropriate activity while then interrogating in a stern tone, “Do you have a request?”

Stopping after the directed question, Ekitai doesn’t fix his glance but instead allows it to freely roam the bridges while nonchalantly clarifying, “No, I didn’t even know you were here. I’m just looking around is all, figuring out where the theater is and whatnot. Hm, for a team of four- five people this base is really…above-slaughter, I mean I’m pretty sure this is the fifth training room I’ve found I mean do you really need that many?”

After reaching the bottom of the page, Meditat taps a few more boxes during his justification: “Well this base used to be for a larger organization, they made a great deal of redecoration to make it more hospitable but ultimately there was more real estate than what they’d themselves need. But after sufficient familiarity of the locations there is little drawback to the size, and given we never anticipated needing to familiarize more guests it never was seen as problematic.”

He then taps on one more button at the bottom of the page thus relinquishing the menu screen, letting him drop his arms in a waiting period when he can add, “However I do not believe we have a theater.”

“Well that’s a boom,” whines Ekitai with a slump, his gaze still floating, least until the abrupt flashing of a blue light beside him that manifests in a humanoid being of a sleek black metallic body, one that just as smoothly animates as it begins creeping towards Ekitai and lifting its arms up, zombified to which he hastily switches his stare at it with a “Woah” and staggers back with his arm reaching into his overcoat before an object from nowhere flies straight into its neck and causes it to falter, again causing him to stumble back more with his arm still stuck inside the coat.

Laying on the floor the metallic humanoid is with a small black metallic rod with a glowing blue stick at the end that seems to stick to the side of the neck through an electromagnetic hold. The stick somewhat resembles a kunai knife by the ring on the other end of the handle, although one without its lethality.

Behind it Ekitai straightens his posture and glances back at the direction the knife was thrown.

That direction leads to the source of Meditat whose arm remains in followthrough, confirming him to be the thrower. Behind him about ten feet another blue light flashes, summoning another black humanoid that starts to creep towards him with his arms raised, sensed as told by the tightening of the glare before Meditat turns around and thrusts his arm forth with an azure blaze fired out into another kunai rod that attaches to the forehead, or at least where it would be as while the heads do have the carvings of a human face it lacks the features of one with no distinguished eyes or animated mouths.

“So it really is true then huh, what you are is the strongest Exhuman there is?” asks the raspy voice that Meditat glances towards with a raised eyebrow.

To the man finally focused straight to him, Meditat inquires back instead almost passive aggressively, “What does it mean to you?” The senile man’s hand still in his overcoat’s pocket, the two notice another blue light right in between them which triggers Meditat to raise his arm back for another strike but not before Ekitai raises his own arm wielding his handgun which fires first a vibrant green bolt straight at the back of the dummy.

Upon impact the dummy’s back instantly melts as a bright green acidic material begins to gradually spread over the rest of the body, melting the metal as it crawls and consumes the shell and internals slowly although to an effective extent in seconds that it at least collapses to the ground.

Behind the disintegrating dummy stands Ekitai behind the smoking gun, facing forward and casually mentioning, “Just curious, Dana never did shut up about how strong you were ‘back in the day.’ It was just always interesting to me.”

Now two blue lights flash simultaneously both in between the two but now further on each side, but before a movement could be made of the gunslinger Meditat is quick to thrash both arms outwards and project a flame that projects its own darts but darts that close on impact self destruct in electric blue blasts that cause the dummies to spark chaotically and drop to the ground with a harmonious thud.

Moving his arms back to his side Meditat again corrects, “There isn’t a perfectly objective scale of Exhumans, you could measure the force output of their abilities or the Exmatter concentration in them all day and derive some sort of intensities but ultimately most Exhuman abilities if weaponized properly could be infinitely devastating. I wouldn’t be quick to crown myself, I’m no immortal.”

Again two blue flashes appear but this time less organized and instead to the outskirts of the room which Ekitai quickly swivels towards with his handgun at his hip, firing an indigo shot at each one in under a second, a shot that hits both targets in the chest to which their entire body abruptly crushes into its chest as though being sucked in by a vacuum until just a ball of metal drops on the floor with thuds also concurrent.

Spinning back to face Meditat after the impressive shot, Ekitai informally mentions with a shrug, “Well I heard you’ve fought a lot of Exhumans but here you still are. I mean you do have pretty bullshit overpowered powers though you have to admit.”

Genuinely curious given by the tilt of his head, Meditat is then interrupted by the summoning of a dummy just a few feet beside him, this one more aggressive as it lunges at him and throws its fist, although is effortlessly evaded with a step back of the target who then with the spin of his wrist and manifestation of a long metallic bat with frosty crystal rings along the barrel slams the bat into back of the dummy thereby blasting it further forward and letting it crash itself on the floor.

Afterwards he relinquishes the bat with the burst of flames and without needing a breath to supply himself he perplexedly inquires, “...What do you mean by…never mind,” before then responding to the easier half, “But yes I have fought many Exhumans I do admit, hundreds if not thousands, I’ve been at that one mission for about a decade. Although after joining The Shield I quickly realized how ultimately simple those fights were, I went from battling a man who could move pods around with his mind to a giant walking lizard the size of skyscrapers who spit out these remarkably lethal beams that incinerated just about everything. Flynn called it the ‘Nuclear breath,’ he had a habit of naming just about every detail with those aberrations….”

“No I get what you mean,” relates Ekitai as with his free hand he rummages back in his inner pockets, shuffling while resuming, “I mostly would do my own thing and maybe join up with a partner of few every now and then for a while and the ops we did were fine and all but when I joined that one group a while back oh man the adventures were scrolled a thousand. I think we once had to fight off this whale that was like the size one of of those old navy boats or what it is, man that was real,” before he finally pulls out a flask with the clear casing revealing the purple substance inside which sloshes back and forth before he takes a swig.

While Ekitai takes a chug and pulls the flask off his mouth with a satisfied “Ahh,” Meditat nods his head and glances to the side more arbitrarily before remarking, “Huh so you’ve also fought aberrations, interesting. Yes we had many of those missions, it’s ironic given how their origins are still unknown despite how many of them we’ve defeated, the only similarities have been the Exmatter traces but we still don’t understand it…but then again we don’t understand many things do we.”

He then focuses back on Ekitai to recall, “It wasn’t always just them however, we had our fair share of people too. Every now and then we had to fight against whole planetary armies, I remember we’d sometimes fall into controversy since they always had their own political ideals and there’d be people accusing us of stepping over bounds but our intentions were only ever because of the physical threat they’d impose and enact on.”

Raising his head up, he more deeply reflects: “If my memory serves me properly, I believe I did somewhat become dependable as the damage control for those situations…perhaps the team just figured I had experience but they’re not wrong. There would always be people in disagreement however, we’d take down one group and another would chase us in vengeance, sometimes it’d be a cycle that’d run for years…. Too many close encounters from what I remember.”

Sloshing the purple flask again, leaving faint residues on the inner surface, Ekitai takes another gulp before chuckling and reminiscing, “Oh man that brings me back, there was always drama with that group wasn’t there? I meant every group was in it for themselves but you’d try to make alliances and then sometimes they felt betrayed or sometimes they’d just direct betray anyways.”

Making a circling motion with his hand such that the purple liquid sloshed back and forth, he muttered with nostalgic yellow eyes, “They raid us, we raid them, sometimes we meet halfway, fight it out while evading the local authos. It’d be a dirty tactic but sometimes we’d try to get them caught. It was a tricky game but it’d pay off and was fun to watch!”

Despite the seeming bonding over experiences, Meditat flashes an apprehensive glance with blue eyes, his eyebrow raised as a few blue lights flash behind him, materializing in another three dummies in the distance all of who begin to sprint right at him, limbs rocking back and forth in an athletic sprint, and in their right hands now is a black baton gripped tightly furthering its reach.

“Wait…what type of team was this?” he queries dubiously before thrashing his arm backwards to throw three small glassy orbs in the dummy’s general direction, each of them suspending themselves midair one to the left behind the dummies and another to the right in line with the first as instead the third looms higher up in the center as another construct forms in Meditat’s hand this one in the shape of a handgun which he fires a triplet burst of blue energy bolts out of with the first striking the left first orb causing the bolt to reflect naturally into one of the dummies as the second one also reflects off the orb but at a slightly different angle causing it to bounce off of the second right orb into another dummy as the third reflects from both but this time at a higher angle causing it to shoot up into the third upper orb which projects it into the back of the dummy’s head just as it raises its baton for a close strike, causing it to instead collapse on the floor as the three orbs vanish into open flames.

All the sudden the blue netted wall flashes green twice to which Meditat glances up before being approached by a holographic screen with a few buttons below the large title text ‘TRAINING SCENARIO COMPLETED’ above a list of statistics.

He brings his arm to his side and allows his energy pistol to extinguish as Ekitai glances up to notice the same conclusion before taking one more swig and rolling his wrist whilst informally asking although with an underlying curiosity, “Oh speaking of teams…I take it you know about the Bellators? I mean really it was just a cool name the last guy made up and he sort of brushed past the terms and conditions but yeah.”

First reading through the statistics before gently pushing out a disappointed sigh, Meditat shakes his head and focuses his gaze through the translucent screen to Ekitai before nodding his head and answering, “I found mention of it, yes. Turns out..’he’ created an official subserver that provides you all Tier Three access to O.R.I.A.L and terminal keys for The Pad…although I guess that won’t be of much more service. Surprised he gave out such high access…I reserved that only for a few people ....”

“So what of it?” bluntly and vaguely asks Ekitai.

Perplexed, Meditat glances off to the side away from the hologram to get a clearer sight of Ekitai before asking for clarification, “Excuse me?”

Still relaxed or at least outwardly so, Ekitai shrugs his shoulders and with his raspy voice he seeks, “Well he did make us a little superhero team and then kind of…stopped existing. He never really designed co-leadership although pretty sure it was going to be me but either way he didn’t say much about who’d inherit that title. So what…is it still a thing that exists…what are we supposed to do…who’s the leader? I mean…if he was you…does that make you the leader?”

From genuinely casual to a more solemn lock, Meditat lowers his head with a contemplative frown, pondering in silence for a few moments from the interesting question. He then glances back up at the hologram before him for a couple seconds before returning that gaze to the floor, his eyebrows scrunched in thought.

In a voice noticeably quieter for it is nearly passed in a whisper he contemplates, “I…I mean the subserver still exists…and the leader key was transferred to me since it was always tied to me…but…that’s just how the system works…that doesn’t mean it translates to….”

He raises his head up but to the hologram rather than the one he speaks to, just staring sentimentally in the admission: “I…I don’t really know…even I’m not really sure what it’s purpose was for…he was me but…there were no records of those intentions…. So what am I supposed to do with…,” before he then shakes his head and raises his hand, pressing on one of the low center buttons of the hologram which causes it to fade out.

Through the hologram he paces down, walking right past Ekitai and shaking his head as he just mutters, “I need to…I’ll be back,” causing Ekitai to just turn around even more puzzled by the vague response.

Forward Meditat continues, his black cape being brushed slightly by the slow amble, the pencil insignia on his chest radiating azure energy that branches off into streams that course around his body with their own branches, pulsating gently like a heartbeat.

Befuddled, Ekitai just throws his arms up with his handgun and flask still in hand as he shouts, “Hey wait where are you going??”

That question is completely ignored for Meditat just continues through the blue netted wall that flashes from his exit, and he just continues down to the far exit of the training room back the way the guest came, the guest who was also the teammate of the team that had fallen into his hands, his hands that had no idea how to wield.

His head remains low pensively, his starry eyes twinkling dimly on his way out, unable to move his gaze back to the senile man who just drops his arms down after understanding there would be no answer.

A slight bounce is given to both arms as Ekitai just groans with the shake of his head, taking one more swig from his flask and murmuring under his breath, “Where did you leave us, man? How are we supposed to go from here,” before shaking his head again and stashing first his flask inside his overcoat, and after pulling his free hand out he huffs and stows his handgun next inside.

Swapped out it’s now Ekitai who stands alone at the center of the vast dark room, its lighting only enough to pronounce the edges of the walls, but especially without the support of any holograms he’s left primarily in dim condition.

Thus underneath the slanted ceiling of the multistory space Ekitai just stares off into the void through those yellow irises, contemplating to himself, facing down the corridor that the new leader has departed into.

In place of the man who had brought the whole group together and led them through all rings of hell, yet brought them back out in one piece. But in the place of that man who had spoken with such bravado facing down the devil, fearless in the flames, there was a man confused and lost without being able to even provide a verbal answer to a question.

In the place of the man who held the lantern that gave the team a direction to move when they didn’t know where to go themselves, that man himself lacks a direction to lead.

So where would everyone else follow?