Before I could think of anything else, or any sort of fighting could commence, the air warmed significantly, and the smell of charcoal filled my nostrils, followed almost instantly by a beam of fire that narrowly passed through all of us and eventually hit the man, pushing him on his back. Two more followed that, once again burning through a good chunk of his muscle tendons once again momentarily bringing him down.

“I don’t mean to crash your party ladies and gentlemen, but this one hits a little personal,” came a female voice from behind us in English, sounding like the epitome of false calmness but also oddly…familiar but it couldn’t be her–could it?

The warmth got much more intense and a tall figure, taller than me by about half a head passed right next to me and Birgit, turning only slightly to look at us with her fiery red glowing eyes, but without stopping her determined walk until she reached the Cretan Heroes.

I felt Birgit’s hold on my tighten and heard her mutter something in Danish I couldn’t figure out. I looked down at her but she was looking down as well, clearly upset over the new arrival. I didn’t spend too much of my attention on her however, because of the new arrival.

Because standing there, clad in white spandex with orange boots and braces, as well as a thick orange line with yellow outlines going through the middle of her back that I knew was going through the front as well, and literal fire for hair was the most powerful Fire Hero alive at that moment, Lady Flame.

“We can handle him, Flame!” said Aiolos angrily. “We thought that we couldn’t at first, but-”

“Save it,” said Lady Flame curtly while she walked towards the man, who once again wrapped himself in an armour made of fresh muscle. “I’ve no doubt about your abilities, but this is something that I will be handling.”

She brought both her arms forward, extending her middle and index fingers toward him. Sparks flew from them, evolving into twin blasts of fire that struck the areas around his collarbones.

Before the man could even react, she crouched and more sparks flew around her lower legs, becoming jets of fire that propelled her to the man lightning fast, where she steadied herself on him, grabbing his injured, uncovered arm and the damaged tendons she had burned.

“What are you-” Before he could finish his question, a torrent of flames was formed out of all her limbs, engulfing the both of them in an explosion of fire.

Lady Flame was soon thrown out of it and on the opposite end of the road, further away from us, while the man emerged with some small burns on his body, and all of his muscle tendons having been thrown off.

His breathing was laboured, and blood was dripping from his mouth and nose. Only a small bit of his pants was still intact clothes wise–thankfully covering any unpleasant sights–but he once more covered himself in the excess muscle.

With the only difference being that, this time, it wasn’t blue in colour, retaining a natural reddish colour and having noticeably decreased in sheer mass. He also attempted to touch his arm that I–and now Lady Flame–had used our power on, flinching away when he only slightly touched it, like he only now realised how badly damaged it was.

“It’s done,” Atroti sighed, sounding almost disappointed. “He used up all his juice surviving that last blast, plus our battle previously. I honestly expected more.”

“I should intervene,” said Aiolos thoughtfully, his eyes and tattoo glowing once more. “This is a personal matter for her. She might not hold back.”

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“We’ve been teammates for nearly a decade, and you’ve trusted me with your life for much longer,” said Atroti matter of factly. “You can trust me on this as well.”

In another burst of flame, Lady Flame launched herself to the air, where she angled herself diagonally down, straight to the man’s position. Sparks came off her hands and feet, the latter transforming into a short burst of flame that she used to throw herself at him.

He raised his good arm to defend himself, but it was pointless. Two bursts of flames formed out of her extended fingers, eventually merging into one large blast of fire so powerful and bright, that I actually had to look away for a moment before it died down.

The whole manoeuvre seemed oddly familiar to me. I looked over at the area where Lady Flame was standing over the man.

She momentarily looked over at us–or rather over at Birgit, resulting in a stare off so intense even I could its force. But I could also see her eyes in that moment, not covered by her fiery glow, in their full, crystal blue colour, almost glowing in the night.

Looking almost exactly like Birgit’s eyes.

“He’s all yours,” said Lady Flame in English as the smoke cleared. She was walking away from the man, passing through the heroes without a word, but stopping on my right side. “A bit too clingy there, aren’t you, boy?”

In spite of everything that had gone on that day, I barely managed to keep myself from squealing like the absolute fanboy that I was. “Uh…yes ma’am! I mean, no ma’am-I-I mean-”

“Fandens, du er en idiot…” muttered Birgit before putting me down gently, so that my back would be supported by a piece of the cold bus, before turning to Lady Flame. “What do you want?” she asked in English bluntly, not even looking the Heroine in the face.

“Let’s talk.” She looked at me. “Privately.”

“Σκύλα,” said Birgit while she started walking away from where we all were. Lady flame raised an eyebrow but followed her, and I choked on my own saliva at hearing Birgit call one of the most recognizable Heroes of the past twenty years a bitch in Greek.

I was sitting among the bus remains, Maria was about a metre to my left, and the Cretan heroes were picking up the man whose name I didn’t even know, Aiolos producing some handcuffs I knew acted as power suppressants, putting them on him and sitting him up next to a building.

The oddest part was that I actually saw myself in him. What would I do if I failed to become a hero? Sure I hoped that I’d never resort to kidnapping, or whatever it was he wanted to do, but the fact of the matter was that I didn’t have another plan.

I didn’t know what I would do if I failed to get into the academy itself, even if I was always so sure that I would never make it–hell I wasn’t even planning to apply until two and a half weeks ago.

I looked down at my exposed hand, and then at Maria and, although I couldn’t see the scarred side of her face from this angle, I still knew it was there. It was still the result of my power being used on a person. I could destroy and that was about it. No matter how much I trained, how much I controlled my power, that would be the end result.

Of course, every power could be destructive if the user wanted to use it like that. Even the Cretan Hero Association members were like that; most of them had defensive or supportive powers that could still be used to cause mayhem and destruction if they weren’t careful.

But they could also do so much good as well, where as I-I could do nothing but destroy. Hell, I practically died for a couple of moments, and that wasn’t any help. That was an odd sentence to think, I realised that, but moments like that were supposed to give you clarity, change things.

I clenched my left fist and I took a deep breath to temper myself.

This whole event did help me realise one thing. I needed to get off my ass and apologise to Iraklis, not hide behind excuses. Sure I didn’t know exactly what I felt, but chances were I’d never know, or take too long of a time to figure out.

I saw my other glove being thrown in my direction by Maria out of the corner of my eye. I tried to catch it but I failed, a fact that Maria found quite funny judging from her not so subtle laughter. “And you want to be a hero with those reflexes?”

I leaned back, looking up at the sky, too light polluted to see many stars clearly. “I died today,” I said lightly, much more lightly than I actually felt about the whole ordeal. “I think you can cut me some slack.”

She scowled at my words, and I could have sworn that she looked even more upset than she usually did when she saw me. “And don’t you dare use your powers in front of me again, you hear?”

I put my glove back on, flexing my right hand, and clenching it into a fist. It felt oddly more free with the glove on, and certainly much safer. “July nineteenth. That’s when I’ll fix things with Iraklis,” I said, looking at Maria’s retreating form. She made no sign to show that she heard me, but I hoped that she did. And that she would tell him.