“What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?”

“No need to split hairs. I was just testing the new guy.”

“You call this a test? He was injured before we got here!”

“How was I supposed to know?”

The voices reached me as through a curtain of water. Fire spooled in my chest. My throat hitched, provoking a bout of dry heaves.

Breathe, Chachi, breathe.

The floor swooned in and out of focus.

Breathe.

“I am going to file a complaint,” Catherine said. “And I am making sure it gets to Headquarters this time. Two more strikes and you’re out of the team. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The heaving stopped. A familiar tremor coursed down my arm. I staggered to my feet. The golden-haired boy had his side to me, and he rolled his eyes as Catherine read him the riot act.

Catherine spotted me first. Her pupils dilated, face turning ashen. “Chetachi, no. Wait. Don't!”

Golden boy smirked. “Ooh. That's one scary look you got there, manchi. I’m going to advise you not to bother though. There is little you can possibly do to hurt—”

He shot off backward. A sound like a small explosion went off as he slammed into the far wall. He crumpled to the ground, leaving a man-sized dent behind him.

“Oh my god,” Catherine said.

Goldie was on his feet seconds later. Bands of yellow light radiated in sequence from the top of his head down to his feet. A nasty glimmer took his eye. “You've asked for it now.”

I spat in his direction, ears ringing.

Catherine interposed herself between us. “That's enough. Toye, Chetachi, stop!”

Toye blurred forward. I squared my feet, ready for the impact.

An iron rod smashed into the ground.

“Bloody hell,” Toye said, skidding to a halt.

“What is going on here?” a new voice said.

The iron rod retracted. Three people stood on the catwalk nearest to us. A boy, more chubby than fat, with baby peach fuzz scattered over his chin, pointed and laughed. A light-skinned girl stood beside him, her hair a wild tangle of curls.

The third person was a Superhero, dressed in a grey costume much like an American footballer. His toned, bare arms rippled, emphasizing the barrels that were his chest. He leveled a length of iron at us, grown out of his elbow in place of an arm. A robot mask with cutout eyeholes obscured his face, but there was no hiding his expression. It was evident enough in his voice.

“What is the meaning of this?” he said. “Catherine?”

Catherine glared at Toye then at me. “An altercation, sir. I’d just arrived with the newbie when Toye showed up from out of nowhere and sent him flying. The newbie responded in kind.”

The Hero used an invective that put entire shiploads of sailors to shame. “Both of you, come with me. Catherine, you too, please.” He shook his arm as he turned away, and iron morphed back into flesh.

Peach fuzz boy whistled under his breath and muttered something to the girl. She glared at me and disappeared after the Hero.

What was that about?

“This way,” Catherine said curtly, avoiding my gaze.

Why was I being treated like I had done something wrong?

“Come along, idiot,” Toye said. “I don't have all day.”

Screw you.

But I let the shudders in my arms die and followed after Catherine.

The entrance hall sprawled wider than it had seemed at first glance. White paint marked the perimeter, demarcating a gym with assorted equipment to the south from a dojo with neatly polished floors beside it. A fleet of three SUVs and a van occupied the center. An array of utility lockers framed the wall left of the fleet. Catherine led us to the right, however, toward a smaller extension tucked behind a set of revolving doors. We stopped in front of a door labeled the conference room.

Robot mask waited in front of it. “Enter,” he said.

We entered—Catherine, Toye, and I. Robot mask brought up the rear, shutting the door behind him. A projection screen towered over one end of the room, surrounded by rows of plastic seats. Robot mask stood in front of the closest row and gestured to it, keeping his back to the screen. I took a seat, keeping as far away from Toye as I could.

“Let me get this straight,” Robot mask said, folding his arms. He leaned against a chair and crossed his legs, tennis shoes at odds with the rest of his costume. “You two were walking in when Toye attacked the new boy unprovoked?”

“It wasn't an attack!” Toye said. “I just nudged him a little. Sort of, like, a welcome to the team.”

“So, an attack,” the Hero replied. “And new boy responded by creating a crater in our wall?” He glared at me. “Are you both insane?”

“Hey!” Toye said.

“You shut your mouth,” Robot mask growled. “Do I need to remind you how exactly you came to join us, Toye? Do you need a few refreshers?”

Toye went taut.

Robot mask didn't let up. “You were placed on this team, despite your abrasive personality, because we had high hopes for you. So far, however, you have only filled us with disappointment.”

“This isn't my—”

“I don't want to hear anything you have to say,” Robot mask spat. “You go about risking all that potential and goodwill you've been given for what? One minute of chuckles? The opportunity to prove you are top dog? This is going on your record, and you better hope a strike is all that comes out of it.”

Toye's eyes burned like live coals.

“And you, new boy,” the Hero said, turning to me. “I was made aware of the circumstances surrounding your addition to the team. Barely one minute in, and you’ve already used your powers on a squadmate.”

“He attacked me first,” I said.

“That is no excuse, Chetachi,” Catherine replied.

I gaped at her, aware that my mouth flopped open and closed. “Why? Why are you against me? You were there. You saw what happened.”

Catherine smoothed her skirt. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I was. That is why I can say with certainty that your actions are inexcusable. Toye pulled a mean prank on you, but how did you respond? Launch him across the hall. Think carefully about this, Chetachi. You had no idea what Toye's powers entailed when you retaliated. If he did not have his durability, you would be in cuffs, and we would be wiping a blood smear off the wall.”

“Impulsive and dangerous,” Robot mask said.

“I'm not,” I fired.

“You aren't?” he replied. “Then explain why you never hesitate to use lethal force at the slightest opportunity.”

I couldn't form the words.

Robot mask glanced at his colleague. “Catherine, got anything else to add?”

The stylish woman shook her head. “Nothing more, sir.”

Robot mask returned to me. “Chetachi, right? Look, I get it. I was once like you. ‘Still am sometimes.” He uncrossed his arms, relaxing his pose. “This job? It can break you—crack even the sturdiest wills. You need to realize—and realize early on, damn it—that restraint isn't a choice in our line of duty. It's a lifestyle.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“There might come a time when you are faced with a jeering crowd. Or a traffic jam while rushing a squadmate to ER. Maybe it's a fight for your life while surrounded by innocent bystanders. What differentiates us Heroes from the rest of the super-powered animals out there is simple: restraint. Before you act out of emotion, ask yourself: if a third party were to view this from the outside, how would they judge the situation? What could be the possible consequences of my actions?” He paused, allowing his words to settle in our minds.

“You will both be punished,” he said. “Guard duty . . .”

“What? No!” Toye said.

“. . . together,” Robot mask continued. “For five full days starting from tomorrow, nine to three each night. You will patrol with the guards and help keep watch over the premises. No phones or gadgets allowed. If any of you are caught slacking off, you will repeat the exercise until I am satisfied.”

“Aww, come on,” Toye said with a groan.

“Dismissed.”

We filed out of the conference room.

“Eek!”

Catherine had been first. She’d pushed the door open, eliciting the squeak from behind it.

“Alewo, Obong,” Catherine said, shaking her head. “Why am I not surprised?”

The two teens I had seen earlier were crouched on the other side of the door. They waved their arms in a panic, firing excuses.

“Eavesdropping again?” Robot mask said, coming up behind us. “For the love of . . . Well, it doesn't matter. Things might have gone haywire, but we still have a new member. Introductions are necessary.”

“Chetachi, these are your new teammates,” Catherine said, gesturing as she spoke. “Our only female member is Harvest, real name: Imaobong. Try not to use her Hero name outside of costume and vice versa.”

“Um, Obong's fine,” Imaobong said, offering a curt wave. “Let's try to get along.”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“The young man here's Alewo,” Catherine continued. “In costume, he goes by Neviecha.”

Neviecha? What did that even mean?

Alewo wrung my hands, grinning like a lunatic. “Nice one, dude,” he said, assaulting my nostrils with the stench of garlic. “Nice one. Going toe to toe with that asshole right off the bat! What is it? What can you do?”

Toye thwacked his head.

“Oi!” Alewo cried.

“Stop being annoying,” Toye said. He glared at me one last time and exited through the revolving door, hands shoved into his pockets.

“That asshole's called Activity,” Alewo said, cradling his head. “Been a while since anyone put him in his place.”

“Watch your language,” Robot mask warned. He turned to me. “Name's Joel. Hero name's Kabash. I would be filling in as the team's guardian in the meantime. Pro-now has entrusted me with shaping you all into proper Heroes, and that is what I will do. I have only one rule: obey all rules. As long as I am your guardian, I decide whether you are good enough to stay on the team.” He scratched his chin. “Err, don't hesitate to confide in me if anything bothers you.”

Kabash was probably much younger than the other adult Heroes. It explained why I’d never heard of him, and why he was saddled with a job that was practically babysitter. There was also an awkwardness to his mannerisms. As if he had a hard time deciding between being approachable and being authoritative.

“Well, I guess that's it for introductions,” Catherine said. “I'll show you to your room—”

A loud ahem reverberated through the corridor.

“AV,” Kabash said. “What were you told about listening in on conversations?”

“Apologies, Mr. Kabash,” the disembodied voice said. “But I have permission from Pro-now to fine-tune our audio systems for the next . . . twenty-three minutes, sixteen seconds. I couldn't help hearing that I had been overlooked. Again.”

“Where's it speaking from?” I asked. “Who's that?”

“That's AV,” Catherine replied with a sigh. “He’s using the public announcement system. He's technically one of you, though his expertise means he serves the entire facility. He is in charge of our systems and automated defenses.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chetachi,” AV said.

I wasn't sure talking via speaker constituted a meeting.

“Likewise,” I said. “But AV, eh? That's short for Adult Video, isn't it?”

A horrible silence descended over the corridor. Catherine looked at me aghast, while Kabash coughed into his fist and turned away. Alewo snickered, and if glares were weapons, Obong would have my blood on her hands.

“Err, bad joke?” I said.

“Very,” AV replied, and I could almost hear the frost in his voice. “It means AntiVirus. I trust you to remember that. Welcome again. Oh, and Ms. Catherine, you will receive a text message from Ardent in the next three seconds.”

Catherine’s phone beeped. She frowned as she read its content. “Change of plans then. Seems I am needed elsewhere. Obong, can you show Chetachi to his room? Since you are free, be sure to also give him a tour of the premises.”

“What? I'm not free,” Obong said as Catherine rushed out the hallway. “Plus, I can't go into the boys' dorm! Why not Alewo?”

“I'm down with it,” Alewo said.

“You aren't down with anything,” Kabash interjected. “You haven’t tidied the mess you made in the workshop yesterday. Who are you leaving it to? Your personal maid?”

“Ugh.”

“Get to it now!”

Alewo scampered away.

“Darn it,” Obong said, glaring at nowhere.

I offered her an out. “You don't have to if you don't want to.”

“No. It's fine.” She pursed her lips. “Let's go.”

“Can I grab my bag first?” I said. “I left it back at the hall.”

“Okay.”

We left Kabash and returned to the main hall. My bag sat abandoned where it had fallen near the entrance of the base. I winced as I bent to pick it, but my sides hurt a little less now. Small favors.

“So, um, the dorms are in the upper area,” Obong said, leading me up a stairwell to the left. “You can access them by taking these stairs or the one beside the conference room. There's also a hidden staircase in the dorms leading directly into the workshop, but unless you are heading that way, be sure not to use it.”

“Where's the workshop?” I asked, looking around.

“It's the fortified room beside the utility lockers.” She pointed at the left wall. “It is unlocked by voice recognition and is blast proof, so in the event of an attack, that’s where you want to shelter. Alewo's the only one who frequents it though. Watch.”

Alewo faced the wall beneath us. He muttered something and it slid open, revealing a massive cavern behind. The wall slammed shut behind him the minute he walked through.

“Ah,” I said.

We continued up the stairs and arrived at a corridor that ran the entire length of the eastern wall.

“The dorms occupy all of this area,” Obong said. “The female dorms are up front, boys to the north.”

“You are the only girl.”

“You don’t have to mention it. But, yeah. I have our entire dorm to myself.”

Two openings from the corridor led into the male dorms. We chose one and entered a narrow passageway. Six doors lined the length of the wall, evenly spaced in a row. Music pulsed from behind one of them, throbbing as through a loudspeaker.

“Which one's free?”

“Um, Toye's taken room one, I think,” Obong said, “and Alewo's room six. You can choose any in-between.”

I chose room five.

The room was a tad wider than mine back home. A single bed lay in the middle, flanked by a desk and a sizable closet. A bathroom stood opposite the closet, containing a sink, a short tub and a mirror. The only other installations were repressed lamps and an air conditioner fixed to the wall.

“No windows,” I murmured.

Obong heard that. “Yeah. We are still beneath the complex. Purifiers have been installed to clean the air. There's a switch on the wall to control that.”

Obong spoke from outside the door. She looked like wanted to hide in her sweatshirt.

“You've never been in the men's dorm?” I asked.

“I have!” Her eyes went wide. “I mean . . . no, I haven't. I actually haven't.”

Huh.

“We are expected to clean our rooms and bathrooms ourselves,” Obong said rapid-fire. “Dia Mater's promised that we'd get staff who will clean the communal areas, but until then, we take those in shifts.” Her eyes narrowed behind her curls. “I’m not going to do all the cleaning just because I am a girl. If you try to foist your responsibilities on me, I’ll . . . I’ll report you.”

“I can do my chores, Obong.”

Obong nodded. “You can personalize your living space as much as you’d like. However, defacing or intentionally damaging anything will result in a salary penalty.”

I didn't have much by way of personalization and taking care of a sister who could easily hurt herself meant I had grown to abhor clutter.

I threw my bag on the bed and gave Obong a thumbs up. “Let's continue.”

The communal areas sat at the western end of the top floor, across the catwalks. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the kitchen or pantry, and the laundry room was neater than I'd expected. A sprawling living room took up most of the section, featuring lush couches arrayed around a gigantic television. The CAH was well to do, but c’mon. The sizes of these TVs were getting ridiculous.

We stopped at the southernmost end of the wing, in front of a sturdy elevator.

“This goes up to the ground floor,” Obong said. “It's mostly a bunch of offices up there. A barracks and a med bay too. There's a cafeteria, in case you want to eat staff grub, but it won't open till lunchtime. The adults also have an underground wing dedicated to their living space, but we aren’t allowed to visit that.” She tugged at the cuffs of her sleeves. “I mean, you can't say you've visited the CAH if you haven't been above ground, but the furnishers are still working and, well . . .”

“It's fine,” I said. “You can go do what you need to. I think I've had enough.” I would have loved to continue the tour, but having no company was better than keeping an uncomfortable one.

Obong broke into a grin. “A quick one before you go then. Next to the living room is the stairwell leading into the business area below. You've visited the conference room, that's where we hold our lessons. There is a library next to it in case you need somewhere quiet to study. And the final padded rooms are for recreation and table tennis.”

“Oh? Why tennis?”

“You should hear Kabash go on and on about the importance of hand-eye coordination,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Many Supers hone their skills by practicing ping-pong, or so he claims. As if everyone with powers needs that.”

“Can I ask what your powers are?”

“That's okay. I spread these spores around me and grow them into plants which I control.” She caught my expression and smirked. “No, I can't grow them on people or metal or in deep water, for that matter. Those are limits to my abilities. You?”

I raised my hands. “Pro-now called me a tactile imparter of momentum. I touch stuff and send them speeding along my aim.”

Obong hummed. “I see. That's how you moved Toye.” She narrowed her eyes again. “You were wrong for that. You shouldn't attack family.”

“I don't greet them by shoving them aside either.”

“You were wrong,” she said and with such venom, we might as well have been old enemies.

“I understand that,” I said, looking straight at her, “but I won’t take all the blame. I didn't walk in here looking to hit anyone or get hit, for that matter. But it's pretty unconscionable to ask me to stand aside and get bullied.”

“Toye wasn't bullying you,” Obong said. “You don't get it. You don't know what we've been through. Cherishing family means taking the time to understand them—”

“You don't know what I've been through either,” I spat. “And I am not going to understand someone within five minutes of meeting them, not if our introduction was via super-powered shoulder to the gut.”

Obong gave me the stink eye. “We have a lesson by two in the conference room. Get settled in till then.” There was nothing left to be said so she stalked off towards her dorm.

Great. Two enemies barely an hour into joining the team. I was willing to share blame for the incident. However, accepting that it was all on me? No frigging way.

I returned to my room. The bed looked more inviting than the one back home. I succumbed to the temptation, letting the fatigue drain out of me. This would be my home for the next six months. Maybe longer, if I decided to move in permanently. Most of my excitement had been dampened by the events of the last few minutes, but I couldn't let it get to me. I had committed to this path and intended to see it to the end.

There were a few hours left until the lesson. I rifled through my bag for a notebook and got comfy on the desk.

Catherine had mentioned the importance of a costume. Might as well start designing one.