The next few days went by relatively smoothly. Relatively being the key word there.

Lessons were tougher than normal. Stuff like Hero History just seemed wrong, considering I was technically there during those time periods. Paragon was such a big part of hero life, it was all I could do to not correct Professor Mystic all the time.

There were all these things I’d learned, all these skills I’d suddenly had, that it was almost overwhelming.

Especially when it came to fighting. Still, there was a lifetime of experiences, of skills, that I could use to be a better hero. Part of me didn’t like it. It felt too much like cheating. Like everyone else was working hard to get somewhere and I just skipped to the end.

But I owed it to myself to see the level I was now at, and become even better. Which was how I found myself opposite Ivan in the track field.

“You sure you want to do this?” He asked, a smirk on his face. He was flipping a coin in the air. “I can be a pretty tough opponent.”

He sounded casual, but I knew him better than that. He was as competitive as Birgit. Birgit… He wouldn’t remember her now. They weren’t close but, with time, I was sure they would have been. Great. Now I felt guilty that Ivan’s memory got wiped. Not just that, it felt like he was the only one who wasn’t in on everything.

And I couldn’t tell him. Every bone in my body, every mission that went wrong when I was Moros, kept me from doing so.

I let out a long sigh. I smiled at him. “I’ve won against more than ‘pretty tough’ so maybe you want to back away?”

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His smirk grew even more. He closed his fist around the coin, and his arm, up to his elbow, was covered in a sheet of metal. He drew his arm back, putting his other one in front of himself protectively.

I took out my gloves. A rush I hadn’t felt before creeped up my spine. The rage, the evil voice, it was still there, but it was easier to make it quiet down now. The rush was still there though and the hairs at the back of my neck stood on attention.

I flexed my fingers.

This would be fun.

“As the Americans say,” said Ivan, “put your money where your mouth is.”

I smiled at him. I leaned down to touch the ground, but it didn’t all collapse. I focused my energy, more than I often did, and the red line limited itself to being around Ivan. It was destroyed, and minimal damage was dealt.

He managed to jump out of the way, but in the time it took for him to do that, I was up in his face. I brought my hand to his chest. He swerved his whole body around and I hit his covered arm instead, destroying the coverage.

In the shuffle, he threw the coin to his other hand. He hit me with an uppercut, knocking me back.

I shook my head. He brought his right arm out, the last pieces falling off.

“Come on Alex, you’re better than that.” He was faking his confidence. I saw it when I was up close. He barely had the space to defend himself and attack back. Not that it mattered.

He couldn’t win, not unless he used his speed. He flicked the coin back to his right hand, covering it again. He was determined, maybe even more than I was.

Ivan was sort of like Iraklis. Of course, even thinking about him, I was hit with a wave of sadness. Iraklis and I hadn’t talked in a long time. I shook those thoughts away. This was neither the time, nor the place.

Ivan though, he was consistent. Even with his memories changed, he wasn’t different. Not like Birgit and I.

“Hey, Ivan,” I said before I could stop myself. “Thanks.”

“For what?” He let down his guard slightly.

“For losing,” I smirked at him.

“Come on, man! You’re supposed to be good at this!”

“Fighting?”

“No, trash talking,”

I let out a small chuckle at that. And I rushed back at him. This fight had just begun.