The abandoned lot in Tacony is eerily quiet as I set up for Maggie's training session. I've arrived early, partly because I'm anxious about... well, everything, and partly because I want to make sure everything's perfect. Or as perfect as you can get in a weed-choked lot with more broken glass than grass.

I've been preparing for this all week, raiding the school library for every book on martial arts I could find. My backpack is stuffed with them – "The Art of War" (which, okay, might be overkill), "Aikido and the Dynamic Sphere" (Rampart's recommendation), and even "Zen in the Art of Archery" (which I grabbed because it looked cool, but turns out has nothing to do with actually shooting arrows).

I set up a row of empty soda cans on a rickety piece of plywood I found. They wobble in the light breeze, looking about as stable as I feel. Next to them, I've arranged a series of increasingly ridiculous "targets" – a cardboard cutout of some movie star I found in the dumpster behind the Tacony Music Hall (sorry, Jordan), a stack of old phone books (where did people even get these anymore?), and a truly sad-looking scarecrow made from a broomstick and some of Dad's old clothes.

"This looks like a yard sale from hell," I mutter to myself, stepping back to survey my handiwork.

As I wait for Maggie, I run through some of the Aikido moves Rampart's taught me over the past year or so of being a superhero. It's weird, trying to apply these peaceful, flowing movements to superhero work. Like, I'm pretty sure O-Sensei Ueshiba never had to deal with a guy who could shoot lasers from his eyes. And it's even harder to try and explain some of them. Like… I don't know, it's all just sort of inside my body now. There isn't a part of me actively thinking about it as I do it. I just do.

I'm in the middle of overthinking a particularly wobbly attempt at the motions of a basic throw when I hear Maggie's voice behind me.

"Uh, are you fighting an invisible mugger, or is this some kind of weird superhero dance?"

I spin around, nearly falling on my face in the process. Smooth, Sam. Real smooth.

"Maggie! Hey! I was just, uh... warming up."

She raises an eyebrow, looking amused. "Uh-huh. So, what's with the Hollywood Battle Royale setup?"

I gesture vaguely at my collection of junk. "Training aids. I thought we could work on your aim today. You know, with your repulsion field thing. In addition to some other stuff."

Maggie nods, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. "Cool, cool. So, uh... have you heard about these new patrols? They're calling themselves 'Citizens for a Safer Philly'."

Great. Just what I wanted to talk about. I try to keep my voice neutral. "Yeah, I've seen some stuff online. What do you think about it?"

She shrugs, scuffing her shoe in the dirt. "I don't know... I understand they're scared of the Phreaks, but it seems like this is taking things too far. Like, who decides who's 'suspicious,' you know?"

I nod, feeling a mix of pride and worry. Maggie's got good instincts, but I don't want her getting involved in this mess. "It's complicated," I say, trying to sound wise and mentorly. "We need to be careful not to escalate things."

"Right," Maggie says, not looking entirely convinced. "So, uh, are we going to start with the self-defense stuff? Like you said in chat?"

"Yep!" I say, probably a bit too enthusiastically. "You know any martial arts?"

She shakes her head no. "My parents wouldn't let me."

"Great. Good reason to learn in this day and age," I reply, gesturing for her to hold her hands out. "Okay, I want you to grab my wrists, one at a time, as if you're trying to restrain me."

Once she does, I demonstrate a simple wrist grab escape, moving slowly so Maggie can see each step. "Watch closely. First, I'm going to drop my elbow slightly, creating a bit of slack in your grip. Then, I'm rotating my hand inward, towards my center. As I do this, I'm also stepping back with my opposite foot, which helps create distance and changes the angle."

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I continue the motion, my voice calm and instructive. "Now, as I complete the rotation, my thumb is pointing down, and I'm using this momentum to break your grip. See how my arm makes a sort of figure-eight motion? That's key."

In a smooth movement, I complete the technique, ending with Maggie's wrist in my grasp instead. "And just like that, the tables have turned. It's not about strength, but about using the attacker's energy against them."

We switch places, and Maggie tries it, her movements hesitant at first. "Like this? I'm turning my hand and stepping back?"

"You're on the right track," I say, adjusting her grip slightly while I try to recite the book from memory - and Rampart's early, abortive attempts to teach me wrist locks. "Remember to drop your elbow first. And when you step back, make sure you're not just moving your foot, but shifting your whole body. That's what I meant about moving from your hips - it's about engaging your whole body in the motion, not just your arms."

We practice for a while, Maggie gradually getting more comfortable with the movements. I guide her through the technique several times, emphasizing the importance of timing and fluidity.

"Good," I say after she successfully completes the move. "Now let's try it a bit faster. Remember, in a real situation, you won't have time to think through each step. It needs to become instinctive."

We run through the technique at increasing speeds, Maggie's confidence growing with each repetition. It's weird, being on this side of the training. I keep having flashbacks to my early days with the Young Defenders, fumbling through exercises and feeling like I'd never get it right.

"Okay," I say after we've gone through a few more techniques, including a variation where the attacker grabs both wrists, "let's try working with your powers a bit. Can you show me how you're doing with your repulsion field?"

Maggie nods, looking nervous. She reaches down into the ground, picks up a handful of rocks, and then holds out her hand, face scrunched up in concentration. The rocks sit in the palm of one hand, cupped flat, with the other one behind it like she's going to just... wipe them off. For a moment, nothing happens. Then, suddenly, one of the soda cans goes flying off the plywood, ricocheting off the fence with a metallic clang, and the air is full of the whistling sound of flying pebbles.

"Oops," Maggie winces. "Sorry, I'm still working on the whole precision thing."

"Hey, no worries," I say, trying to sound encouraging while assessing the damage. When I notice that the aluminum can is riddled with small holes, my eyes almost bug out of my sockets - but I keep a cool head. "That's why we're here to practice. Let's try something a little more controlled. See if you can push this baseball without sending it into orbit."

I toss her a beat-up baseball I found in the lot. Maggie catches it, looking determined. She takes a deep breath, then suddenly snaps her arm forward. The ball shoots out of her hand like it was fired from a cannon, slamming into the cardboard cutout and leaving a sizeable dent in its face.

"Whoa," I say, impressed despite myself. "That's some arm you've got there. How fast do you think that was?"

Maggie shrugs, looking pleased but a little embarrassed. "I don't know, maybe 70 miles per hour? It's hard to tell. It puts a lot of strain on my arm, though, and aiming is... well, you saw. Like, it's constantly pushing while it's in my little bubble, but that means something's pushing back on my wrists and palms."

I nod, thinking. "Okay, so we need to work on control and maybe some techniques to reduce the physical strain. Have you thought about how your power might intersect with hand-to-hand combat?"

"Not really," Maggie admits. "I've been mostly focused on not accidentally launching myself into space every time I sneeze."

I laugh, remembering my own early power mishaps. "Trust me, I get it. When I first got my powers, I kept accidentally biting through my lips, until the scar tissue got thick enough to stop it. Try explaining that to your dentist."

Maggie grins, wincing with a sort of eww face. "Seriously? That must have been... interesting."

"Oh, you have no idea," I say, warming to the subject. "There was this one time during patrol where I..."

I trail off, suddenly aware that I'm about to launch into a story about fighting a criminal. Probably not the best idea right now.

Maggie picks up on my hesitation. "What? Come on, you can't leave me hanging like that!"

I shake my head, trying to laugh it off. "Nah, it's not that interesting. Just some silly training stuff. Hey, why don't we work on integrating your powers with some basic moves?"

Maggie looks skeptical but goes along with it. "Okay, sure. But don't think I'm going to forget about that story."

We spend the next hour experimenting with different ways Maggie can use her power. I start with something simple.

"Okay, let's try this," I say, picking up a small pebble. "I'm going to throw this at you, and I want you to use your field to deflect it. Ready?"

Maggie nods, looking nervous but determined. I toss the pebble gently towards her. For a moment, nothing happens. Then, suddenly, the pebble bounces off an invisible barrier, shooting off to the side.

"Holy crap!" Maggie exclaims, looking surprised. "Did you see that?"

"Great job!" I say, genuinely impressed. "Now let's try something a bit more challenging. Can you use your power from both hands at once?"