Inside the office of the Supe School Principal, the air smelled faintly of cedarwood, ink, and fur.
A massive window overlooked the academy's eastern grounds — a wide, shielded terrain nicknamed the Court, where the Physical Exams were currently underway. In the center of the space sat a student, poised and smiling atop a proctor who looked more like a mountain than a man.
Principal Halley Harp sipped her coffee calmly, even as her other hand gently stroked the soft spine of a trembling feline — a young lynx with smoky white fur and wide, anxious eyes. The creature purred nervously, ears flicking at the distant sound of battle yells and power bursts.
"It's alright, Soot," Halley said, voice smooth and low. "He won't hurt you. You're just… sensitive."
The lynx let out a small mrowl, burying itself against her.
Halley's gift — Beast Command — allowed her to communicate with, soothe, and rally any creature born of natural or mutated evolution. In a world changed by the Supernova of 2030, where human genes evolved and animals mutated into monstrous, semi-sentient breeds, her power had made her both ambassador and warden.
Soot was no different.
Emotionally bonded. Hyperaware.
And right now, terrified.
Because even from this far away, he was there.
Elijah Marris.
Ex-Spire Inmate. Emotion Induction/Manipulation. And one of the reason's Halley hadn't enjoyed her coffee in peace for three years.
Beside her stood a man clad in black tactical fabric, with a gray scarf looped loosely around his neck. He leaned against the wall with a file folder in one hand, his jaw clenched, his voice gruff.
"You sure you want me to see this?" he asked.
His name was Richard. Hero alias: Vagabond. Disciplinary Dean of Supe School.
His power? Bondcraft — the ability to absorb attributes from objects or people he made contact with. Stone, metal, fire, lightning, or even… another power wielder's essence. The more abilities he tried to hold, the shorter he could maintain them before his body burned out.
Richard was a man who'd seen monsters, fought wars, and walked away from both. But the file in his hand made his scars itch.
"Kid's not just some dropout, Halley," he said.
"I know."
"He wasn't just in the Spire. He survived it."
"I know that too."
Richard flipped through the file again.
Name: Elijah Marris
Designation: Class A Threat (Emotional)
Incident: Lights Out — Spire Breach
Casualties: 17 confirmed. 43 injured. One presumed dead: Silas Kreel, Priority 2 Inmate.
Remains found: Single arm, decomposed.
Richard's brow furrowed.
"You really think Kreel's dead?" he asked.
"No," Halley replied, calmly feeding Soot a treat from a tin. "But it was enough for the government to close the file. And Elijah walked out the front gate during the chaos. Nobody stopped him. Nobody could."
Richard looked outside again.
There he was — Eli, sitting on top of the proctor, whose name was Hound, a war hero turned physical examiner. Hound was massive, in both build and reputation. He'd broken students before for simply underestimating him.
Now?
Eli looked like he was lounging on a sofa.
"I don't get it," Richard muttered. "Why let him in here? A walking chemical imbalance. His side-effect list reads like a damn pharmacy: hallucinations, seizures, euphoria, cardiac arrest—"
"—Don't forget spontaneous vomiting," Halley added helpfully.
He gave her a look.
She smiled.
"I let him in," she said, tone hardening, "because if the government wants their lapdog, they're going to have to watch him grow fangs. We're not training a weapon, Richard. We're untraining one."
Richard looked back down at the file. "You're sure that's not dangerous?"
Halley turned to him.
"We let monsters in here all the time. But Elijah? He knows he's the monster. That's the difference."
A sudden shockwave rattled the building, sending dust off the ceiling tiles. Soot yowled and darted beneath the desk.
Richard jerked to the window. "What the hell—?"
He looked out to see Hound collapsed on the floor, Eli perched on his chest like a boy on a bench, legs swinging idly. The rest of the court was frozen — students and proctors alike staring in slack-jawed awe or terror.
Halley didn't flinch.
"That's why," she said. "That's why we let him in."
Two Minutes Earlier
Eli's smile hadn't faded.
Not when the proctor lunged.
Not when the man's fist cracked the floor beside him.
Not even when the court rumbled beneath his boots.
"Stay still!" Hound barked, voice a growl. "You want to play games, brat?!"
Eli ducked again, laughing — not mocking, just… amused. "You're really big, you know that?"
"Stand still!"
"No thanks."
Hound roared and raised both fists, slamming them into the ground with enough force to fracture the court floor. It shook like a minor earthquake.
The idea was simple: break Eli's balance, make him fall.
But instead…
Hound fell.
His limbs locked.
Every muscle seized in place. Terror clawed into his chest like a feral beast.
What—?
His knees hit the stone. Then his face.
Eli didn't move to hurt him. He just… walked around. Calmly. Casually. Sat himself on the massive man's back like he was a sunbathing rock.
"You feel that?" Eli asked.
Hound couldn't answer. His teeth were clenched shut. His fingers twitched violently.
"That's not you," Eli said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's me. My power. You'll get your body back in a few seconds. Just try not to puke."
The panic didn't leave, but something else came through — a coolness, like ice water trickling over the nerves.
Eli wasn't angry.
He wasn't even trying to prove a point.
He was just showing the difference between potential and power.
And Hound?
He'd just been benched by a kid.
Present
Hound grunted, sitting up finally. The world stopped spinning. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a forearm and scowled up at the boy who was now helping him to his feet.
Eli extended a hand.
The older man hesitated… then took it.
The contact was brief.
But in that moment, something flooded into Hound — vigor, like someone jumpstarted his circulation. The stiffness left. His breathing evened. Heartbeat slowed.
Eli smiled again. "Thanks for playing."
"You little freak," Hound muttered. But there was a tiny huff of respect in his voice. He turned to the court. "Alright, kid. You're done. You'll get your results at… wherever you live."
Eli gave a mock salute and walked off, humming to himself.
The court was silent.
The students watching from behind the barrier were pale.
One kid whispered, "Did he just make Hound freeze?"
Another asked, "What the hell is he?"
And Hound, wiping his face again, looked toward the next student and muttered:
"…Next victim. I mean student. Get over here."