“Where do superpowers come from?”

We sat in the conference room, spaced so far apart we made the word, team, redundant. Catherine purred the words as she breezed in, dressed in a beige-colored skirt suit, a stack of papers tucked under her arm.

“Where do superpowers come from?” she repeated, stopping at the podium in front of the room.

Toye stifled a yawn. “An alternate dimension?”

Catherine frowned. “I would have given you points for that answer, Toye, if I didn't know you were being cheeky.”

“Wait . . . what?”

“Yes,” she said, pressing a button on the remote. The projector came to life. “Powers are most likely from an alternate dimension. It is the only explanation that makes sense.”

I called up my lessons from Superhuman 101. Five days of guard duty wore at my bones, and it was all I could do to avoid falling out of my seat. “Aren't powers a result of mutations caused by the G-day catastrophe?”

“Correct,” Catherine said. “Before G-day, nothing of the sort had ever been documented. However, the human genome has been successfully mapped for decades, so this is beyond the field of genetics. Powers aren’t considered mutations within the scientific community. But, in layman speak, the term is used as a catch-all to refer to changes from base Homo sapiens. Consider it conjecture.”

“And this alternate dimension thing isn't?” I asked.

“Picture this,” Catherine said, and the monitor became a grainy image of our solar system. The Sun took up one end of the view, and the planets fell in a horizontal line to the right of it. A red tracker traveled above the planets.

I had seen this video enough times in myriad forms.

Catherine pointed at the screen. “An indescribable object enters our system, making a beeline for the Sun. One moment, it is out in the Kuiper belt. An hour later, it is within the orbit of Mars. Right from the get-go, this object had violated a hard limit of physics: The speed of non-massless travel. Make a note here.”

The video continued. We all knew what came next. The object struck the sun causing a coronal mass ejection, unlike anything before it. The old space station crashed. Global communication networks shorted. Auroras covered the globe, and ten percent of humanity lost their lives, mostly around the dayside and the equator.

Catherine paused the video right as the CME started. “The object crashed into the sun, boring a surprisingly stable hole reaching down into its core. Make another note here, as this is also a physics violation. The ejection that followed would have stripped Earth of a good portion of its atmosphere were it not for its magnetic field. And here you make the final note.”

She hit the play button, circling an area on the monitor with her fingers. “The interplay between the solar particles and the field caused auroras that could be seen halfway across the globe. But even more shocking than the auroras was the creation of strange, exotic particles within the atmosphere. Those particles degenerated rapidly. Years later, the Supers started appearing.”

I scribbled in my jotter, highlighting the parts we'd been asked to make notes. Alewo saw it before I did.

“The object and all that followed makes no sense using physics as we know it,” he said, rubbing his chin. “But nothing suggests it was inconsistent with itself. It obeyed rules. Just not ours.”

Catherine nodded. “Alternate rules.”

This was beyond what we'd been taught in Superhuman class, but it wasn't exactly novel either.

“Wait a minute,” Toye said. “So, because we don't understand it, it means it comes from an alternate dimension? Can't it be something else? I dunno, smarter aliens?”

“Smarter aliens from an alternate dimension,” Alewo said, grinning.

Catherine flipped through her notes, a small smile playing on her lips. “That is not implausible. We know alternate dimensions exist. Some Supers use them in ways we can observe. According to the GAG's handbook on superpowers, such Supers are called Knights. A pun on the chess piece and its ability to move in unconventional ways.” She curved her index and middle fingers on both hands for emphasis. “Knights are, broadly speaking, space-time manipulators. They are a common class of Supers, outnumbered only by Kings and Rooks. The alternate dimension theory, however, is not limited to Knights. It posits that all powers come from an alternate dimension.”

“So, when I use my power . . .” I said, failing to grasp the concept.

“You might be imparting objects with momentum stolen from somewhere else. Imaobong creates matter when she grows trees. But what if she didn't? What if her spores served as a sort of bridge? Toye saves mechanical potential elsewhere, just like you. And Ava produces far more novel compounds than her body has enough material to build. Which brings me to the next issue . . .” A vein bulged on Catherine's forehead. “Are you sleeping in my class, Miss Dominic?”

“Wah? Huh?” Ava said, raising her head. A line of drool ran from her lips. “Wasn't sleeping.”

Obong scowled at her. “You are drooling.”

“Huh.” Ava wiped at her jaw. “Side effects of a partial stroke I once had. No big.”

Obong's voice rose a pitch. “You'd rather say you had a stroke than admit to nodding off?”

“What's it to you, muff-head?” Ava said, wiggling her brows. “You sound like you need a few strokes yourselves.”

Toye chortled.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't disrupt the lecture, Miss Dominic,” Catherine said, her gaze like blasted steel. “I wouldn't want to file another bad report.”

“It's this damn collar,” Ava said, tugging at the contraption around her neck. “I feel like I am using dumbbells for bling.”

“The longer you keep being difficult, the longer it stays on.”

“Get it off me and I'll be a good kitty. I promise.”

Catherine's nostrils flared.

“How do Supers like Alewo fit into the alternate dimension thing?” I asked, before the impending nuclear disaster could unfold.

“Players?” Catherine said. “About same as others. He could be connected to a secondary source guiding him through all the processes he needs.”

“Err, no,” Alewo said, puffing his chest. “My ingenuity is all me.”

“Right,” Catherine said, tone dry. “You never wonder why your science test results are worse than Obong's, yet you manage to create magic when given a screwdriver and an electric board?”

“I'm a hands-on learner?”

Catherine shook her head.

“Can I get a copy of the GAG handbook after this?” I asked. “Some of these terminologies are flying over my head.”

“I can get copies for all of you by next week,” Catherine said. “Now, back to the lesson.”

I approached Catherine as she exited the conference room.

“What do you need, Chetachi?” she asked, letting me fall in step beside her.

I handed her a sheet of paper. “These were my scores on National. You said you could help me?”

Catherine scrutinized it. “I did. Let's see. You flunked Math and Chemistry. Did awesome on English and Geography. Everything else is average. Hmm. I can't vouch for private lessons, but I will do my best to strengthen your weaknesses. You are a much better student than you think.”

“Thank you,” I said, ducking my head. “I also wanted to inquire about my costume.”

Catherine chuckled into her palm. “You don't have to be coy. I know that's your main reason for hounding me. It's been three days since you submitted your drawing. Give us more time.” She adjusted the files beneath her arm. “Your design is a simple one. Simple but efficient. It shouldn't take much longer to finish. Be patient.”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to sound like a nag. I'm just excited about it.”

“I understand. I can't wait to see you in it either. But we aren't just grabbing random pieces of cloth and stitching them together. Your costume is your identity and protector. It needs to do more than look cool.”

“Is that why everyone walks around base in turtlenecks?”

Catherine smirked. “Ah, that goes back to the early days of the Council. There's a story behind it. Suffice to say, after a nasty incident, Dia Mater decreed that all Council costumes be woven high-necked.”

I perked up at that. “A story? I have some time.”

“I don't,” Catherine said, glancing at her watch. “I have another appointment in ten. I can share it when next we have the time. Now, if you will excuse me.”

Ava appeared as Catherine took her leave. “What's with that goofy grin, Fingers?” she said, poking my cheek. And then feigning a gasp—“Oh my god, you are into Ms. Catherine!”

I sprang away from her, mortified. Thankfully, Catherine had just vanished through the revolving doors.

“What are you saying?” I spat.

“Who's into Ms. Catherine?” Alewo asked, entering the corridor.

“Who else?” Ava replied. “Mr. dour, dark and brooding seems to like them older.”

“No, I don't,” I said.

Ava clasped a hand over her heart. “I'm one year older than you. Does that mean you hate me too?”

“Hey, man,” Alewo said, patting my shoulder. “Nothing wrong with liking older chicks. I'm a big sucker for Dia Mater myself.”

“Get off,” I growled.

“Dia Mater?” Ava said, and her eyes twinkled. “You have an Oedipus complex or something? I thought short men aren't into short women.”

Alewo stumbled over his words. “Who are you calling short?”

“I see you guys are now friends with the loser,” Toye said, entering the corridor. He walked with languid ease, arms tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. Obong followed behind him, gaze pointed at her feet.

Ava narrowed her eyes. “Surely, you aren't referring to me.”

“Not you,” Toye said. “You're cool.”

Obong glared at Ava.

“I'm referring to the blockhead who got me into trouble on his first day,” Toye continued. “Don't mingle too much with him. He’s contagious.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

It would have been easy. Too easy to reach out and wipe the smirk from Toye’s face. I would concede the psychological edge in taking that option, however, because my impassivity riled him more than my barbs. Toye had been needling me all through the week, and it was obvious enough that he spoiled for a fight. I shouldn't give him that.

“I'll mingle with whomever I want, man,” Alewo said, coming up beside me. He jutted his chin at Toye, assuming a solid pose. “Why don't you go bother someone else?”

Toye sneered. “Quick to bite the hand that fed you, eh? Not that I am surprised. The weakest are always first to forget their place.”

Alewo's chin dropped an inch. “I’m not weak.”

“Must be a recent development,” Toye said. His sneer darkened. “I remember you crying into your pillows about missing your family back in Kogi. I remember brewing ginger and garlic tea, just so you could be reminded of home. Now, you are a big man, yeah? No more pissing your pants at the first sign of real trouble?”

Alewo stiffened. That was a low blow.

I took a step forward.

“Why do you stick with him?” Ava said.

Huh? Oh, she wasn't speaking to me.

“What do you know?” Obong spat.

“I know that blondfart here is a jerk,” Ava said. “And I get it. Maybe you guys go way back. Maybe you think he is the coolest thing since ice cream. But you should know by now that he isn't going to change.” She leered at Obong. “Is it the lack of attention? Need him by your side to make you feel pretty?”

“Don't talk to her that way,” Toye said.

“I’ll follow your example and talk any way I want,” Ava fired. “Watch your tone with me, punk. I'm not Alewo. I'd gouge your eye out if you so much as look at me wrong.”

A heavy silence descended over the corridor, punctuated by our ragged breathing.

Toye broke it first. He sighed, shouldering past Ava. “I don't hit girls.”

“Pretty silly thing that. Hesitating to hit a member of your sex.”

“You fucking—”

“Pacesetters.” AV's voice came through the speakers. “Kabash is waiting at the gym. He is growing impatient.”

“I thought you were warned against eavesdropping?” I said.

“I assure you I wasn't doing so,” AV replied. “Kabash asked the reason for your delay, and I peeked at the cameras.”

Yeah, right.

Whatever the case, the tensions had been diffused. For now, at least. We made for the gym, Obong, and Toye in front, a sullen Alewo bringing up the rear.

“What took you so long?” Kabash said, hunched over a bench. He had a dumbbell in one hand and pumped it without looking. “A key tenet of the superhero business is punctuality. Heroes should never drag their feet.”

“Sorry, sir,” Obong said.

Kabash dropped the dumbbell. He stood and kicked his tennis shoes aside. While Catherine tutored us on general knowledge, basic law, and sciences; Kabash took physical education. Which to him was about making us eat iron until we threw up.

“I have a mission tonight so we are going to switch things up this session,” he said.

“What kind of mission?” I asked. After the disaster with Ava, I was itching to get back into the field.

“Classified,” Kabash said. “Rest assured though that my missions are way above your paygrade.”

Then don't mention it, jerkface. Ugh.

“We've done some preliminary muscle training,” he said, “which is all to ensure you don't tear something on duty. You still need to work on your cores, get your stamina up, and I hope you haven't been slacking on tennis. However, all of that is useless if you can't even protect yourself. So, today, we are having some open sparring.” He gestured at pieces of training gear laid out on a rack.

My heart skipped a beat. I was quickly learning that I was shit at melee.

“Mr. Kabash,” Ava said. “I'm a lover not a fighter, sir.”

“Good,” our teacher replied. “You will learn to love the mat.”

“You mean you want me on my back?”

Kabash sputtered. “Watch your mouth, Dominic!”

“Who are we going to be sparring with?” I asked. “You?”

“What? No!” Kabash said, laughing. “I could kill you guys. You will be sparring with each other.”

Toye shifted and the alarms went off in my head. No. This was not good.

“Kabash . . .” I began.

“The two girls together in ring one,” Kabash said, heading for the tatamis. “The three boys in ring two. Alewo, Chetachi, you both will take turns going up against Toye. Five minutes each. No headbutts, liver shots, or crotch shots. Don't hit a downed opponent, don't grab their clothing, and keep your fingers to yourself. I am stressing now that this is a non-powered spar. I won't hesitate to break anyone who breaks this rule.”

He stopped between the two rings and turned. “Toye, that warning was especially for you. Powers off. You are a good enough fighter without the augmentations, which means you should be extra careful. I see so much as a nose shifted out of position, I will shift yours.”

“I don't need my powers to win,” Toye said, and he smirked at me.

“Shouldn't we get some training first?” I asked.

Kabash adjusted his mask. “Hmm. You have a point. The others took self-defense classes in the month before you and Ava joined.” He shrugged. “Then again, it won't matter much. Plans often go out of the window in the heat of the moment. So don't worry about it. Just focus on socking your opponent and try not to get socked.”

That was some real bullshit.

Toye discarded his hoodie. Like the rest of us, he attended classes in workout gear because gym came after morning lessons on the schedule. He tucked his shoes away and grabbed a pair of sparring gloves, rolling his shoulders.

Alewo and I exchanged nervous looks.

I eased out of my sweater, letting the cool basement air caress my skin. My tank top dangled over my frame. I draped on the shin and instep guards, fingers shaking terribly.

“S-shouldn't we c-change into fighting gi?” Alewo squeaked.

Kabash waved him off, helping me with the straps. “Fights happen at the drop of a hat. Your opponent isn't going to wait around for you to get dressed. Best to get used to fighting in whatever you find yourself.” He assisted each of us in turn. “Now, let's do some prep work. Everyone, follow me!”

I copied his motions, regulating my breathing as he instructed. Kabash was earnest but also a little dense. Like, read the room, man, come on. Our team had just come close to blows minutes ago. Sparring would only give us an excuse.

If Kabash was aware of the glares we threw each other, he didn't show it. He put us through a rigorous set of calisthenics, and when we'd worked up a reasonable sweat, he ordered us to begin.

The girls went up first: Obong plodding like a tortoise, Ava prowling like a cat. They settled in against each other and bit down on their mouthguards.

Kabash gestured to me. “Chetachi, you take first turn against Toye. How are your ribs?”

“Fine, I guess.” They wouldn't stay fine after this though.

“Good,” Kabash said. “Toye, I don't want any heavy blows to his torso. Play clean.”

Toye shrugged, eying my face. “I won’t be punching his torso.”

“Great. Both of you, get in.”

I entered the ring, palms balled into fists. A square region marked the inner contest area with a larger square signifying the out of bounds. The ring had been cleaned recently. Cool tatami stretched out beneath my feet.

“Try not to embarrass yourself,” Toye said through his guard. He adopted a fighting stance: fists up, one foot extended a tiny distance to his front.

I imitated him.

Kabash walked between both rings. “Touch gloves with your partner.”

Toye rolled his eyes.

“Ready,” Kabash said. “Begin!”

I rushed forward.

Toye's smirk widened as I neared, but I wasn't that stupid. I stopped my charge halfway and danced out of reach, using my momentum to end up farther than I’d been at the start.

“What are you doing?” He snickered. “Practicing for ballet?”

I didn't know either. But I wasn't about to play this his way. The bastard was bigger, faster, stronger, and more experienced to boot. My best bet was to stall for time and lead him on as much as possible. At least, until the sure opening came.

Toye pressed forward, one hand splayed in front of him. I charged again, then darted back out of reach. I was in the outer contest area now. Which was good. Rather than let Toye hit me with as much malice as he could muster, I would rather give him a ring out.

“Watch your footing, Chetachi,” Kabash warned.

Toye must have suspected what I planned because he stopped advancing and skirted sideways instead. My instincts pushed me to skirt in the opposite direction, but I resisted, planting my feet. Any second now . . .

Ava tackled Obong, smacking her to the ground. It was almost comical, given the large collar around her neck, but she managed to make it look effortless.

Obong cried out, and Toye glanced their way.

Now.

I feinted with my fists, then fired a kick at his calf. Toye checked it, smashing my ankle with his. He went for a sweep and I jumped, pressing the advantage. I ended up flat on my back.

“Ring out!” Kabash declared.

Eh?

I cleared my head. My arm burned where Toye had kicked me and my ankle hurt something silly. But I’d survived. I'd survived the first exchange.

Kabash pulled Ava off Obong. “You're doing good, Chetachi,” he said. “But five minutes aren't over yet. Get back in. You won't get better this way.”

“You sure five minutes haven't passed?” I asked.

“Now.”

Toye paced around the edge of the ring.

“Back off,” I said.

“Why?” he replied. “So, you can jump out the ring again?”

“Back off, Toye,” Kabash said. He turned to me. “No more voluntary ring outs. You don’t want to repeat this exercise.”

Toye returned to his end of the ring. I slid in, willing my legs to move. Our exchange was enough to prove that I wasn't beating him anytime soon. But I couldn't let him win. I couldn't give him the satisfaction.

Toye advanced.

There was no running away now. I crouched as low as I could manage, keeping my arms raised. Kabash had banned solid shots to the torso, eliminating one thing I had to fear in this position. If Toye wanted to win, he'd have to end things with a grapple.

I didn't see the kick. It buckled my knee, forcing me to stumble. Another kick found my face as I fell. Then another. I rolled away from the assault.

Toye caught me in a headlock. His brutish biceps crushed my neck, and an open palm slapped me across the face.

“I've fought kids who put up better fights than this,” he said. He jabbed me in the ribs.

Maybe it was the jab. Maybe it was the taunts. Maybe it was the fact that I didn't want to lose to Toye of all people.

I ripped out the mouthguard and sank my teeth into his arm. Then I slammed the back of my head into his nose.

Kabash stepped in before Toye could retaliate. “Time,” he growled, pulling Toye off me. “Time!” He shook me by the arm. “I should have known this would happen! You two can’t do a thing without acting like cat and dog.”

Toye clutched his nose. “He bit my arm!”

“I saw you hit his ribs first,” Kabash said. “I'm extending your guard duty by seven days both.”

Toye glared at me through his hands.

I gave him the middle finger. I hadn't won, but I’d stopped him from ending the fight on his terms. Eat that.

“Toye, Chetachi,” Kabash said. “Kneel by the cars and plant your heads on the ground.”

“I didn't do anything!” Toye yelled.

“Kneel,” Kabash repeated. “Heads down. Arms crossed behind your backs. Alewo, get in here with me.”

“W-with you?” Alewo stuttered.

“Since Toye loves proving he’d rather be back in diapers than act his age, I'll be your sparring partner. Come up. Now.”

Toye’s expression told of intent to rebel, so I went along with the order first. I knelt by the SUVs and rested my forehead on the ground. Ava giggled, unable to contain herself.

“I'll kill you after this is done,” Toye said, kneeling beside me.

“How's the nose?” I replied. “I didn't quite catch what you said. Is it affecting your voice?”

“You're dead. I swear it.”

“Ooh. Scary.”

We stayed that way for thirty minutes. Kabash walked the others through a variety of combat forms. Then he dismissed them and stretched beneath the barbell, starting his reps.

Ava whistled as she passed me. “Nice ass, Chetachi.”

“Go away,” I said.

“How long are you going to keep us here?” Toye asked, voice ragged. “I need to do my laundry.”

Kabash didn't reply.

We kept kneeling as the time crawled by in nanoseconds. Blood flowed the wrong way, and a cold sweat broke across my back.

I wasn't doing my Hero career any favors by tangling with Toye. I’d committed two infarctions in the span of a week—all because of him. I hadn’t done anything wrong—given the same choices, I’d do it all over again. But maybe the adults were right: I was impulsive.

Kabash approached us an hour after we started. I’d given up all pretense of maintaining proper form. I bowed on the ground, brain reeling in my head. Toye, on the other hand, knelt frozen in place. The bastard was using his power.

“Stand,” Kabash ordered, tone like frost.

We complied.

“I will keep this simple,” he said. “I won't be putting this in your reports. I know how heated things can get in a fight, so I will grant some leniency. This doesn't mean you are off the hook.” He sighed and softened his voice. “Put yourself in my shoes, Toye, Chetachi. Would you want to be the one endorsing the release of volatile Heroes to the public? I expect you boys to put this matter behind you and show exemplary behavior for the rest of the month. Anything less will result in outright dismissal. Consider this the last I'd say on the matter.”

Toye didn't intend for it to be the last. He shot a look at me that promised he'd get even, whatever the consequences may be. I needed to be more careful around him.

“Toye, you may leave,” Kabash said. “Chetachi, I'd like a word.”

Toye narrowed his eyes, then jogged off towards the dorms.

Kabash waited till he was out of earshot. “Come with me, Chetachi.”

We returned to the ring.

“Now, put up a stance,” Kabash said.

I did.

Kabash walked around me, nodding. “Have you taken any fighting classes before?”

I shook my head.

“Hmm,” he said. “I noticed it during the Dominic mission and then during your spar with Toye, but you have a keen sense of spatial awareness. A lot of Supers do, actually.”

“Is this related to how our powers are supposedly from an alternate dimension?” I asked.

“Maybe. But yours is particularly keen. You are untrained yet you know how to make yourself a small enough target to avoid getting hit. Your aim is impressive, and you have a good grasp of your surroundings.”

“Err, thanks?” I said, dropping the stance. “Why do your observations sound like chastisements?”

“They won't be if your only goal is to put distance between you and your opponent. However, you will come across many who are fast or agile enough to rubbish that tactic. Many like Toye.”

Or Rabidor.

“What you need to do,” Kabash said, stopping beside me, “is learn how to be more aggressive in fights. More dogged. You need to stop being scared to take a hit in order to get a good one in.”

“I'm not sure I'd be as effective throwing myself into the fray.”

Kabash wagged his finger. “Think about it. You have a dangerous power, one suited to long-range fights. You can harry your opponents, while they are unable to retaliate. Anyone who can't match your output will look to close the gap. And therein lies the problem.”

“How so?”

Kabash telegraphed a swing, forcing me to dodge.

“See that?” he said. “Your power is even more dangerous point-blank, but you don't take advantage of this. Your instincts push you to slip away, widen the distance, and get a good one in.” He threw another punch. “If you fight this way all the time, you will lose. In close-range combat, you must take the momentum. Rather than lean backward, you should duck forward under my guard. You need to become a good scrapper.”

“And you intend to teach me,” I said.

“Well, my spatial awareness is better than yours, and I am the best hand-to-hand fighter in the base outside of Rabidor.” He paused. “Third best, if you count Pro-now. But competing with him borders on unfair. I am also the equivalent of a mid-range sniper. You won't get a better choice.”

Kabash wasn't doing this for free. There was something at play here. Something he wanted later in the future. But honestly? I needed the help. I was tired of getting tossed around in fights.

“I accept your offer then,” I said. “Thank you.”

Kabash clapped his palms. “Great! Let's do some fighting practice. I will teach you some forms.”

“You mean right now?”

“Remember when I said I'd break Toye's nose if I so much as saw a broken one? Well, it wasn't yours that got hurt, but the promise still stands. Get your arms up and better hope you can protect your face.”

I groaned. This superhero business was really starting to grate.