I was stunned.
Truly, fucking stunned.
Asshole was standing there on the stage, giving a speech that I could barely hear because my thoughts were churning as they tried to catch up to the speed of light.
A thousand scenarios of what he possibly wanted and how he would get it all boiled down to the simple fact that I didn't know.
Would it kill his career? Possibly.
Maybe Heroics Inc. had finally decided to retire the bastard.
I woke up from my hyper-planning state to find out Fiona was gently holding me like a spinner sign under my armpits as Night Woman ground her way through an explanation of the testing grounds.
"...Fully functional urban environment, complete with robot civilians for protection scenarios." Night Woman yawned, eliciting a yawn from the more sympathetic members of our group. The thing that drew my eye before even trying to see past the window behind her was a familiar plumage and green feathers.
Is that...
"Now, since you'll see it up close and personal, let's move on to the Opfor Locker." As she lurched up the hall, we started forming a gaggle behind her and followed.
Even now I was too in my thoughts to tell Fiona I was back in the present. Also, she was talking to someone I couldn't see, and getting carried wasn't all that bad. I had nothing to prove here, after all. That would come after the test.
"Sometimes students will be tasked with playing villains for scenarios. For those with lower grade Talents, we provide equipment seized from actual villains to supplement their abilities. Yes, uh, Joshua?"
I look and see a feathered hand in the air. "It's Jhaydun, actually. Why have hero students play villains?"
"Excellent question," Night Woman replied, while some students snickered like it should be obvious. "For those of you who haven't inferred the reason, it's because getting into the mindset of a villain is sometimes helpful in both defeating villains and getting them to surrender. However, we only provide these to our Psychology of Villainy students, which is one of our many college-level courses."
We finally arrived at the locker room - which was conspicuously guarded by what looked like seniors in riot gear. I was halfway expecting to see some of my junk but no, it was all trash made by amateurs. Night Woman went on to describe everything here as safe and non-lethal.
A student with what looked like a werewolf claw asked her in a gravelly feminine voice, "Does that mean there are dangerous lethal weapons, too?"
"Yes. Come with me..."
We walked through a second section that seemed to be all armor and then into a room with an impressive-looking blast door. The room was long and hallway-styled with shelves going across the walls and a very conspicuous red line making a narrow path to the other end. I recognized the slightly yellow sheen of Imperviglass (TM), which was really a type of transparent aluminum titanium polymer-
"Here we have the Fatal Armory. Each one of these weapons is known to have killed people, and will only be made available to those who have proven themselves in Psychology of Villainy, Ethics of Heroism, and Advanced Safety courses." Night Woman paused to yawn.
"So unless you plan on taking our Engineering or Grey Cape tracks, it is unlikely any of you will be allowed past those red lines. Also, if anyone touches the glass, you will be expelled." Night Lady spoke in a matter-of-fact tone that made many students flinch back from reaching out.
Should I take a Grey Cape track? Night Woman was a grey cape - a good antihero -but I knew instantly that while sticking it to Asshole would be fun, it would raise many red flags that could get me caught when I started moonlighting in "bad" antihero freedom-fighting eco-terrorism...
Without further word, she started to walk away slowly to give us time to look at all the shinies.
The students were impressed, but I was not.
"Is that Black Knight's jousting rod?" "Whoah, Red Lightning's kickers." "Who made all these?" "I bet it was Nanomancer. Look at the logo!"
I looked at where one of the students was pointing and my jaw dropped.
"Hey, Ash! You're awake!" Fiona let me down gently and I immediately charged the offending student, a girl with an oil smudge on her clothes.
Maybe I found my rival already...
"Hey!" I call her out, "Are you blind? That symbol means it's from The Engineer."
The girl sizes me up and then notices that I'm dressed to the nines, only much more darkly than my sister. "Who's The Engineer?" she raises her eyebrows. "That's clearly Nanomancer's logo."
"The better question is, who the hell is Nanomancer?!"
"The rising star of the villain world, duh."
"They're a bloody thief, that's what they are!"
The girl, who I am going to name Oil Stain, rolls her eyes. "Of course they are. They're a villain! Once a year they knock over a bank, a politician, and a hero."
"Actually, she's right," a new voice said, with a slightly low and raspy sound that was still distinctly female. "The Engineer was from before Nanomancer stole her logo. None of these could be Nanomancer's because she always generates her gear on the spot, and it always dissolves if separated from her."
Oil Stain scoffed at being corrected. "Who asked you, furry?"
The werewolf girl whose hand I recognized growls. It's kinda hot but I'm not looking for any sort of relationship until I'm at least 16 with a potential parter being 18 or older. "Say that again!" she challenges, eyes going red amidst her black sclera.
Her onyx-black fur bristles as she looms - two meters tall despite being thirteen! - over Oil Stain. Her claws extend, most offering five centimeters of piercing and slashing.
Okaay... anger issues. Less hot. Anger should be properly channeled into meaningful tasks like robbing banks, politicians, and heroes. Oil Stain is barely worth correcting.
With a slight sigh, I realize it's probably better if I de-escalate, since neither of these girls seems to want to-
"Hey!" a familiar voice calls out, and a familiar form slips through the crowd. "No fighting or you'll both be in trouble."
"Jhayden?" I call out.
He immediately stops and stares at me, his crest going up in what seems to be a flustered reaction. "Hi, Ash. I didn't think you'd remember me."
"I guess we're going to be in the same grade," I smile at my second friend in this life.
"For a semester at least. I actually started last semester, so I'm just here as a volunteer." He paused awkwardly. "You never came to visit."
"I can count the number of times I've gotten to leave the H.I. tower on both hands."
"Oh," he winced. "Hey, maybe now that you'll be living on campus, we can hang out sometime."
"I'd like that," I reply.
My conversation had taken the original context completely off track. Unfortunately, Oil Stain was quick on the uptake.
"Wait, the H.I. tower?! You're Crusader's kid, aren't you?"
"Actually, we both are," Fiona said, finally arriving on scene backed up by two out of four of the PR girls I recognized from our atrocious 8th birthday. The way they crossed their arms simultaneously made my hopes for Fiona drop a bit.
"Ugh, figured I'd start with a pair of damn princesses," Oil Stain rolled her eyes, before shoving her way past the werewolf girl and moving to catch up to the departing crowd.