I lost myself in the motion of running, pumping my arms in time with my pounding steps. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Each breath I took was more desperate than the last, my lungs burning every time I gasped in another desperate mouthful of air. I couldn’t hope to guess where we were, now. The world narrowed to a tunnel, an endless road with only me at one end and my goal at the other.
Ashika loped ahead of me, bounding along with nonchalant strides that ate up as much distance as I did in three at full tilt.
She was wearing what I’d come to think of as her signature outfit: a pair of used-to-be-white sneakers made by some company specialising in footwear that could handle super strength, skintight black biker shorts that ended just above her knees, and a hooded sweater she’d stolen from me and conveniently ‘forgotten’ to give back. A scuffed black backpack with a missing strap hung from one arm.
She’d put her black hair up in a high bun that kept it all out of her face—she’d shave herself bald if she thought she could get away with it—and she’d done away with what little makeup she’d bothered to put on this morning. She insisted that she preferred a natural look, but really she was just lazy.
Not that I’d say that to her face.
Occasionally, she’d shoot a smirk at me over her shoulder. If I got too close, she’d pick up her pace, always maintaining the same distance. The gap was barely a few metres, but it felt as insurmountable as leaping the grand canyon.
She wasn’t even breathing heavily. Ashika started off three or four times stronger, faster, and sturdier than a girl her size should be capable of, and her abilities only ramped up the longer she kept moving. I had no idea how long we’d been running without a break, but it had to be over an hour.
Right now, she had the strength of a titan in her slender frame. Her signal was like music.
Pushing myself to my limit wasn’t enough, because my best was a casual jog for her. Trying to trick her with shouted distractions wasn’t enough, because her brain would be working on a different level entirely with this much charge built up—her attention would be split for a fraction of a second, if at all.
I could think of nothing that would let me close this gap. As I was, I would never be enough.
And she wasn’t even trying. It made me wonder how far she could go in the future, if she kept putting the effort in.
It made me wonder how far I could go, if there was a difference this big between us already.
The fundamental truth was this:
Without power, I was already a step behind most people. I could make up for that disadvantage with hard work, determination, and applied intelligence, but what about the people who were two or three steps ahead? Four? Five? Or even more?
If I wanted to make a difference at Aegis, to help reform it into the place it was supposed to be, I’d need power. I was desperate for it.
Alas, if it was merely a matter of desire, the world would be a simpler place.
No superpower remained static, regardless of rank or level. As humans grew, so did the strength of the unique signal our body emitted. In breadth and depth; in strength and control; in stamina and versatility. Over the course of years, and with a lot of hard work, a man could go from straining to make a grain of sand to fly in circles to forming an elaborate palace made up of all the sand on a beach in seconds.
In theory.
The rate of advancement was not equal, and far from comprehensively understood.
There wasn’t a one size fits all solution to power growth, even for abilities that could ostensibly be considered part of the same ‘category’. No two superpowers were the same, even if to an outside observer their effect may look similar, and thus there were no two identical routes to advancement. Dr Shimada famously preferred to refer to superpowers as ‘paths’, and he was adamant that each human being walked their own, unique to themselves.
That was where revelations came in.
They started with something simple, almost juvenile, known as the foundation; ‘I want to run fast’, ‘punching makes me happy’, ‘lasers are cool’, and that sort of thing. And on that bedrock, people built their powers.
Repeated use of powers would grow what they called the ‘pitch’ of the signal, called the Resonance Level, until they reached a point where a further revelation could sit on top of the foundation, growing the ‘structure’ of the power and expanding its basic capabilities. After that, the signal settled down to a new, greater baseline.
Why? Good question. Whoever who answered it would be rich beyond belief, in all likelihood.
Rank, on the other hand, indicated how much power the signal output in pure force, and corresponded to the depth of what the power itself could do. The same was true for rank, as far as growth went. In essence: use power more, get stronger. Not useful if you didn’t have power. My situation just wasn’t a consideration, an anomaly among anomalies.
Rank and Level weren't necessarily linked. One could be high in rank and low in level, and vice versa. The reasons for that were more easily explainable: training was hard, and most thought it was better to grow in one area. If they had to, they’d choose the easiest one for them. Someone with a good starting rank would typically focus on improving that. A low rank would see advancement more achievable in Level.
Another problem was, the revelations got more complicated the higher your Level. Theories abounded as to why, but none of them applied broadly—regardless, even if no one could figure out why it worked this way, it demonstrably did; it was generally agreed that later revelations were all about giving further depth to the foundation. In fact, some said that the Levels were just adding strength to the foundation, shoring up its weaknesses, not building on top of it, and it was the rest of you, as a person, that rested on top. Revelations got intensely personal.
Everyone who followed cape stuff knew Tempest’s first revelation was ‘that storm is beautiful’. He hadn’t revealed the next few dozen he’d had.
There were some broad strokes improvement techniques that applied relatively widely, though not in the way most would think of ‘growth’ necessarily.
For example, though the correlation between keeping physically fit and growing one’s power was hotly contested in the power research community, at least you’d be in shape. The more able-bodied you were, the better you could use your powers, in most cases.
The same went for stimulating the mind with things like logic puzzles or learning new skills; even if it probably wouldn’t see you rocketing up to Level 10, it was always good to grow your knowledge and critical thinking. If you couldn’t advance upwards, you could always expand outwards, and there was nothing saying you had to level up to use your power more creatively.
There were countless forums and discussions on this very topic. Grifters made millions off selling training courses. There were TV personalities who insisted their line of space rocks had special properties that would ascend you to Level 3 and beam your revelation into your mind if you meditated beside them every night and paid a monthly subscription fee. All this, even though info from respected scientists was available for free online.
Advancement was hard, requiring a deep understanding of your own power and how it related to your existence that no one else could give you, so there were always going to be people that tried to cut corners, and many didn’t even try, happy to be Level 1 and whatever rank they were given at age 13. The sheer volume of information out there was too much for one to take in, and much of it wouldn’t even apply anyway.
Unfortunately, there was depressingly little scientific literature on what one should do if the foundation just wouldn’t come, because it just… didn’t really happen. Ever. Not that I’d been able to find. What little did exist wasn’t exactly helpful, and tended to follow a theme:
You just had to be patient, because advancement would surely come.
In other words, they didn’t know what someone like me could do.
People talked a lot about being able to feel that they were ready for a revelation, and it usually correlated, when measured, with their Level reaching all new personal Resonance records. The threshold was always different, and tended to be higher at higher ranks.
They described it as unbounded energy, like they’d just drank the world’s greatest energy drink. It put one in a paradoxically hyperactive and introspective state of mind, and turning one’s thoughts inwards and finding an appropriate revelation was made incredibly simple.
For the first revelation, building the foundation, it was even easier. Practically the first thought that came to mind, in most cases. Though kids were encouraged to think it through, and more canny sorts manipulated their foundation as best they could; there wasn’t unlimited leeway on this point, it had to fit you.
Whatever that meant. I’d never felt anything like that. The only personal interaction I had with the feel of powers was with being sensitive to other people’s signals after three years of not having my own.
There was some talk about people who hadn’t had their first revelation until past age 14. A few at 15. None at 16; as far as I knew, I was the oldest non-powered human being on earth.
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Those who had been later claimed that it just kind of changed one day, as if the power had decided it had had enough of being so weak, and switched itself on just because, like the whole ordeal had been one long cosmic prank. Worse, they often weren’t even ranked F; one guy bragged about getting D-rank at 14 years, 11 months, and 6 days old. For others, it took months of hard work, and they had no way to tell which among the dozens of methods they’d tried was the actual catalyst; they almost always started off at F, and struggled to rise any higher than D.
Us late bloomers were rare. A statistical anomaly. There’d been some study on the subject of why some of us started off so far behind, but the papers I’d read tended to amount to the multiple-page equivalent of a confused shrug. Most started off F-rank. Some lucky few at E. Ds were exceptionally rare.
When Ashika had been measured a C-rank on her first ever test, it had caused quite the hullabaloo in the power research community, we’d been told. It was almost unheard of. A one-in-a-million freak occurrence. People talked about her like reaching S-rank was an inevitability, and they speculated on just what her power would look like once there.
As I tried not to feel jealous of her casually jogging along ahead of me while I sprinted after her at full speed, my lungs burning, my legs screaming in protest, the world had never felt so unfair.
Ashika led me on a merry old chase, but to her it could have been an easygoing tour of our hometown.
“Damn, I feel like every time I pass Bell Park, it changes. How did I never notice there was a skate ramp here? Remember the time we were playing heroes and villains on the jungle gym, and we actually saw a superhero fly past, chasing after some F-list villain who’d stolen a helicopter?”
I did remember. It was hard to forget spraining your ankle.
But I was too busy running to tell her that.
Soon after, she gained a faraway look as her gaze caught on something we were passing by. “Man, I hate that this shop’s a Walmart now. It’s hard to believe this is the same place where you put on a cape and stood guard outside when you heard it got robbed. The old owner was such a sweet guy, indulging some dumbass kid playing around outside his store. Barely spoke English, though.”
I wanted to tell her Mr Wong had retired back to Taiwan, but that would distract from giving chase.
When we slowed down to hop a fence, I at least had a better idea of where we were, now. I would’ve felt worse about the casual trespassing, but everyone around here did it.
“Hillview Elementary. So many memories here,” Ashika said, smiling. “It used to look so huge back then. I was scared to go in because I thought I wouldn’t make any friends, or I’d get bullied for having brown skin.” She shot me a thumbs up. “Then good ol’ Emmett came along and asked me to play when he saw me crying in a corner. My hero!”
We kept going for a while after that, but it wasn’t long before Ashika was slowing to match my flagging pace, rather than upping hers to maintain her lead.
I was starting to lose momentum with every step. It was getting harder and harder to keep going, and soon enough I was pulling myself along at a pace little faster than a crawl. My body felt thrice as heavy and half as strong.
But I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t.
I pushed myself with energy I didn’t have, willing myself forward. Ashika’s back was right in front of me, the distance between us closing as she casually hopped ahead. She wasn’t even paying attention. If there was ever a chance…
But then she took a casual leap, clearing ten metres in a single bound. She hadn’t even been dodging me. She only turned around when she noticed I’d stopped, and gave me a dry look.
“Time… out…” I managed to wheeze between breaths.
I couldn’t give up, but I could take a break. Knowing where your limits lay was a basic but essential part of exercise.
Ashika shot me a smile before skidding to a halt. She waited a moment to ensure there was no trick, then casually sat down on the curb, elbows on her knees, chin cupped in one hand.
It took me a while to get my breathing back under control and my heartbeat to a resting rate. A sheen of sweat clung to my skin, soaking through my shirt, and my calves and hamstrings were throbbing like a stubbed toe. An open bottle of water awaited me on the curb by the time I managed to blink the dark spots out of my vision, and I upended it over my head. Once I was done luxuriating in the feeling of cold water cascading down my burning body, Ashika offered another. This one, I all but inhaled.
When I felt like a human being again, I dropped to the curb beside her, sprawling over the sidewalk.
Ashika chuckled. “Satisfied with the workout?”
“Satisfied isn’t the word I’d use,” I mumbled. A yawn bubbled up from my chest, and I let it out. With the adrenaline draining, my eyelids were starting to droop. The curb seemed oddly comfortable, the sun’s midday warmth a nice blanket. “But it was good exercise.”
“Is there a workout you would be satisfied with?” Ashika asked. “You were always a fitness freak, but you’ve really turned it up a notch lately.”
“If there was a workout that could unlock my powers, I’d be pretty satisfied with that.”
She reached over to flick my ear, but I was wise to that trick and dodged it. Though I didn’t manage to dodge the second attack. Ow. “Being motivated is cool and all, but I feel like you’re taking it a little far, Emmett. How much sleep did you get last night?”
“Not much,” I said, grumpily rubbing at my stinging earlobe.
“Uh huh. And the night before that?”
I yawned. “Less.”
“And before that?”
“Think that might’ve been an all nighter, actually.”
A moment of silence passed before Ashika let out a sigh. “You’re not stupid. You know that’s not good.”
“It’s not like I enjoy being an insomniac,” I said with a frown. Dad had defeated my childhood nightmares, but the lonely nights where sleep just wouldn’t come had never gone away.
“I know it’s not your fault, but pushing yourself so hard while not getting enough sleep? Just gonna hurt yourself, and you know it.” She paused. “And the likelihood of growing your powers this way is, like, hella low. Even I know that.”
“What other option do I have? I need power. Powers.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’? I’ve explained all this to you multiple times.”
AA’s entrance exams had taken place nine days ago now, but the shadows of that day’s events had darkened every moment since. I’d finally given in and answered Ashika’s calls last week, tired of cleaning my room over and over. She’d been… somewhat upset with me. Getting the cold shoulder had alway been a trigger for her, and she’d made me feel like a dick for it. Deservedly. I had been a dick.
~~~
“You’re the biggest dick I’ve ever fucking met, Emmett. I can’t believe you.”
“I know I am, and I’m sorry.”
“We’re supposed to be friends. Best friends, you said! Was that a lie?!”
“No, it wasn’t! I was feeling shitty, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even my family. It wasn’t your fault. I’m a dick, and I’m sorry.”
“If you were feeling shitty, you could have at least just told me you didn’t want to talk! I would have understood. I wouldn’t have had to spend days wondering if you didn’t want to be my friend anymore! I thought you were blaming me because your test went bad or something. You know how I feel about this shit, you ass.”
My throat felt like it had closed up. “It’s not like that, Ashika. Yes, it went badly, but not how you think.”
“What do you mean?”
~~~
Once things had calmed down—without any broken noses on my part, miraculously—I’d given her the cliff notes of my experience, and she’d made sure to look appropriately impressed or indignant on my behalf at the right moments. She mostly only asked clarifying questions when the topic of fights came up. Hearing of my exploits, she’d started loudly wishing she hadn’t finished her own test so quickly, horrified that she missed out on some good brawls. Her test had been easy, she’d said.
~~~
“But man, it was a trip. The written exam sucked, and the medical was pointless, but the practical was awesome. Had to do a bunch of tasks then make it to the finish line right in the middle.” She puffed out her chest. “Naturally, I finished first. And I had time to stop and do two tasks on the way. Feel free to praise me. Don’t be shy. We both know you’re dying to.”
“You’re the best there ever was.”
“Damn right I am. You should’a seen the look on the teacher’s face when I got there. If I hadn’t taken a detour, I would’ve beat their record by minutes! Sophomores run that same course sometimes, did you know?”
“Did anyone in your test try to mess with you?”
“Not me, no. Not that I know of, at least. But there was a big argument after the test was over, people accusing each other and stuff. There were like three different groups that all worked together, and some kids who were left out called that cheating. Then the groups said the accusers had been trying to sabotage them. It was a total mess. Almost broke out into a fight before a teacher stepped in.”
~~~
But that boisterous energy had drained away when I revealed the dark side of my tests and explained the full extent of what I suspected was going on at AA, emphasising how close to disaster things had gotten. I’d always thought the school itself never meant so much to her as it did to me, but her rage that night had convinced me otherwise.
Every day since, we’d plotted and schemed the downfall of all those who’d corrupt the school we’d both looked forward to attending since we were children. There was no question of leaving it to someone else, not even a stray thought that it wasn’t our burden to bear. We hadn’t had many concrete ideas, exactly, but the intent was what mattered.
We were going to change Aegis Academy and purge the false heroes. Somehow.
In a way, it felt like we were kids again, fantasising about our future hero careers.
Except this was so much more real.
“Why do you need powers to make a difference at Aegis? I think you’ve done plenty without,” Ashika said.
I raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’m serious here.” She crossed her arms and huffed. “You caught that Slash guy. You did damn good on your practical, from what you’ve said. You didn’t need a power for either of those things, you just used that extra wrinkly brain of yours and pulled some shit other people didn’t think of. Why can’t you just, y’know, keep doing that?”
“I could do that. In fact, I intend to. Even if I woke up tomorrow morning with all the power of Tempest, Herakles, and Runemaiden combined, I’d still learn all I could and work harder than everyone else.”
“Then what’s with the insane overwork all of a sudden? I know you think about your powers a lot, but you always seemed so… calm about it. Like, you knew they’d show up some day, and there was no point rushing things. The mindset was so you. I admired that.”
Man, I wish I was actually as cool about it as you think I was.
I met her eyes. “I can’t afford to wait anymore. If my revelation isn’t going to come to me, if my rank isn’t gonna grow on its own, I need to take matters into my own hands. Try everything.”
I needed to go above and beyond human limits, otherwise I’d never close the gap.