An armored truck drove into the grounds around a quarter past two.

I blinked the sleep from my eyes and rose from my seat on the sidewalk. Kabash was the very definition of a slave driver. My joints quaked, and my muscles screamed in places I didn’t know existed. I bit my lip and followed the van's movements until it stopped in the circle ringing the complex.

“Were we expecting anyone?” I asked the Combat suit near me.

The man, whose name I couldn't remember, nodded. “Yes, sir. It's been a busy night. Main team is out patrolling. Plus, there was talk about a fight over at the stadium.”

“A fight?” Darn. I was starting to see stars.

“Yes, sir. Our people versus the Four-oh-Four. Things have been getting worse.”

“Hold on,” I slurred. “I'll be right back.”

I jogged toward the van. The floodlights gleamed in full, leaving my heavy eyelids to act as the sole impediment to visibility. A team of three Combat suits stood around the van. A couple of Supers stood with them. One of the latter was new. Or at least, new enough I couldn't recognize her. The other stood out in her silver mask and dove-patterned pauldrons: Dia Mater.

“Carefully,” Dia Mater said. “We don't know if there is any internal damage.”

The three Combat suits looked worse for wear. Scratches lined every inch of their suits. One of them featured a sizable crack in his helmet, large enough that it was surprising he lived. They held a stretcher between them, bearing a fourth member. Or rather, something that looked like one. The man moaned in pain, shaking deliriously left to right. Protrusions like giant corals encased him.

I inched forward for a closer look.

No. They were actual giant corals. The strange formations protruded from his skin in manifold shapes and colors, creating the image of a deep-sea creature rolling on the stretcher.

“Get him to med bay Four,” Dia Mater said. “He will need painkillers and quickly. Be sure to let the doctors know this is an emergency.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

The suits looked up at my approach.

“Volley?” Dia Mater said. “What are you doing here?”

“Guard duty.”

“Guard duty?”

I nodded, too tired to expatiate.

Dia Mater pointed toward the building. “Get him to the med bay now. Feel free to turn in after that. You can submit your reports tomorrow.”

The Combat suits nodded and rolled the stretcher toward the complex. The van cruised off in the direction of the parking lot.

Dia Mater turned to me. “What is this about guard duty, Volley?”

“I'm being punished.”

“By Kabash?”

“Yeah.”

The second Super cleared her throat. Mechanical eyes, white as blank paper, appraised me. She was limber in a way that put willows to shame and stood a good head taller than Dia Mater and me. Her mauve costume covered her from head to toe, save a small opening at the top of her head. Dreadlocks sprouted out of this opening, bunched up in the wind.

She spoke with a rich timbre. “Is this one of your . . . what did you call them again? Pacesetters?”

“Yes,” Dia Mater said. “I’ll introduce you to the rest later. This is Volley. Volley, meet Odim.”

“Hello,” I slurred.

Odim nodded in turn. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Volley.” She glanced at Dia Mater. “If there's nothing else, I presume I may retire for the night?”

“You may. Goodnight and good work.”

“You too, Erica.”

Dia Mater sighed. “It's Dia Mater while in costume.”

“I'm still getting used to it,” Odim said, inclining her head. “Apologies.”

“What happened to that man?” I asked as Odim excused herself.

“Cnidarian happened,” Dia Mater said.

“Cnidarian?”

“One of the Four-oh-Four's newest recruits. She manifests corals from her body and surfaces she touches.”

“Will he be alright?”

Dia Mater frowned in the direction of the med bay. “I hope so. The corals can be sawed off, assuming they haven’t inflicted grave injuries beneath the epidermis.” She glanced at me. “So, your name's Volley now? I like it. I apologize for not making the time to meet with you. It's been what? Five days since you joined?”

“Six now.” I stifled a yawn. “Was there a reason you had to meet with me?”

“Well, you were accepted on Pro-now's recommendation and mine. You are my responsibility. Sort of.”

I hated the fact that I was so damn sleepy. The last time we'd spoken, I hadn't been in any frame of mind to think of anything other than my ordeal. This time, I could appreciate the fact that I was conversing with Dia Mater. One of the greatest Heroes the country had produced. And all I wanted to do was sleep.

“How's your mom and sister?” Dia Mater asked. “Have you been in touch with them?”

“Yes.” I must have blacked out for a second because I couldn’t remember what she asked. “I am fine.”

Dia Mater chuckled—a light-hearted sound that conjured images of tambourines. “You must be tired. Why not call it a night?”

I shook my head. “Kabash would kill me if I did. I still have about two hours left.”

“Nonsense. I am sure he can make allowances for one night. Are you the only one on duty?”

“No. Activity too.”

Dia Mater pursed her lips. “Activity, huh? I heard about what happened on your first day. You were wrong, Volley.”

I was tired of hearing that. Either that or I was just plain tired. I yawned.

Dia Mater crossed her arms. “I won't appreciate you taking me lightly.”

“I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to do that. I’m just beat.”

Her arms remained crossed. She dropped them a moment later; a wry smile tugged her lips. “I'll let you off the hook for that seeing as you are dead on your feet.” She tapped her ear. “Squad captain. This is Dia Mater. Over . . . Please, inform your men to relieve Activity from duty. This night only.” She bobbed her head at me. “You too, Volley. Get going.”

“Err, I was hoping I could talk to you?”

Dia Mater perked up. “What about?”

“I don't know. Superhero stuff? I still feel kind of lost here.”

“Hasn't Kabash been helping?”

“He has,” I admitted. “But well, he's Kabash.”

“Point.” Dia Mater pulled a lock from her face. “I won’t lie, Volley. I am two minutes away from going comatose. But I guess I can spare some time. Come with me.”

We entered the complex, earning greetings from the suits stationed there. I had been topside only once before this, so I couldn't help but marvel again at the lush hall waiting beyond the entrance. Glossy yellow marble stretched across the floor, highlighting the golden finish of the walls.

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A trio of hallways stretched out to the right, connecting the entrance hall to the med bay, Admin, and HR wings. Similar corridors ran off to the left, terminating in a cafeteria and barracks. Combat suits blocked access to the first floor, where our finance, intelligence, and other critical departments lay.

Dia Mater stopped at the front desk and chatted cordially with the reception staff. I turned in a circle, noting the features that had been added to the foyer since my last visit. Giant banner stands interspersed the hall, depicting images of current members of the adult team.

Dia Mater’s banner caught the eye. She stood on a platform, arms extended, a quartet of metallic discs floating around her. Her current costume was a deep blue adorned with silver, but the image on the banner captured her younger gold-fancying days. Light glinted off her golden mask and pauldrons, rendering her resplendent in the glare.

The banner stands helped put one thing into perspective. The real Dia Mater was a petite and genial woman, but in the eyes of the public, she was a being of legend. How did she handle the knowledge that the expectations of many rested on her shoulders?

“Yes, I hate that banner,” Dia Mater said, walking up to me.

“Why?”

She swept past the image. “Why indeed. Lagos considers it a Council tradition. They believe it raises the morale of the troops. I see it as a distraction. Stare too long at it and you start picturing yourself as something you aren't. Something akin to a god.” She muttered the last bit.

Who was she referring to?

Dia Mater led me across the hall to the cafeteria. An empty bench sat propped up against the wall, and I commandeered it, resting my feet. The cafeteria was barred at this hour, but a row of vending machines occupied the end of the hallway.

Dia Mater stopped in front of the machines. “What do you care for? Something cold? Or hot?”

I blinked. “In between?”

“Ugh,” she said. “Because you are lukewarm, neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.”

She handed me a packet of almond milk and sat beside me, cradling a plastic cup of tea. I didn't know vending machines could do that. For that matter, it was my first time using one ever.

“So, what did you want to ask?” she said, glancing at a clock on the wall. “I have about fifteen minutes before I make for bed.”

I sloshed the drink around in my mouth. “That Combat suit. The one attacked by Nai . . .”

“Cnidarian.”

“Yeah. Does stuff like that happen often?”

Dia Mater sniffed. “That was pretty mild. I won’t fudge the truth just because you are young, Volley. People die in this line of work. Sometimes, they wish they died. Humans tend to inflict harm on others for the flimsiest reasons, and power makes that tendency worse. Superpowers? It dials the inclination up to eleven.”

“Have you lost anyone?”

“Too many,” she said, and her brown eyes were hard. “But that doesn't mean it's all doom and gloom. A lot of us Heroes live each day like it’s our last, so we are quick to forge meaningful relationships. My best friends are all Supers. My worst friends too. And then, there's the satisfaction. Each time you save a life, each time you see someone's eyes light up as a result of your actions . . . Well, it’s its own reward.”

I thought about that. About how it might feel to brighten some random person's day. “I'm not sure that's a good enough motivator for me.”

“It doesn't have to be,” she said, and she sipped her tea. “There's this foreign professor who called all superheroes masochists. We do what we do, even when we have no great reason to do so.” She smiled at me. “But that's pretty sad, isn't it? I hope you can find a reason, Volley. Your reason. Being a superhero doesn't have to be a bleak affair. And duty can only take you so far.”

I had one reason I could think of. And I'd rather damn the world than let any harm befall them.

I must have said that aloud because Dia Mater stilled.

“That's a scary thought, Volley,” she said.

“I know.” I hunched in on myself. “And I just can't help it. I admire what you guys do—admire what the CAH stands for. I want to prove myself. Prove that I belong here. But it is mostly so my family can be safe.”

“You see us as a means to an end.”

“Sort of.” I peeked at her. “Is this going on my report?”

Dia Mater tapped her chin. “Well, Pro-now would want to know about this. You know we have problems recruiting because of the massive amount of money the SRA throws around.”

“You guys are so averse to working with the SRA. Why is that?”

Dia Mater’s expression changed. Her lips thinned, and her eyebrows knitted behind her mask.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’d forgotten about the war.”

“That’s not the problem. The SRA was created after the fighting, not before.”

“So, there’s another reason?”

“There is,” she said, voice strained. “Superpowers shouldn't be used that way. Sure, the SRA makes millionaires out of Supers, and they have improved our standing within the corridors of power. But to what end? You join them, you become the equivalent of a government stooge. They say you are only needed to defend the nation. But then, the people organize a protest, and you are brought in to clobber them into submission. A Justice or reporter rubs the Executive the wrong way, you are summoned to arrest them on obnoxious charges. You move around with political convoys, stand around as guards during party rallies, and film ads urging people to vote your patron.” She glared at her cup. “Sorry, not sorry. I don't believe Powers are meant for such foolishness. We have a greater purpose than that.”

I couldn't imagine doing any of what she described. A government contract sounded too similar to military or police work, and I chafed at those.

Dia Mater finished her tea, then nudged my shoulder. The gesture surprised me.

“Don't worry,” she said. “This can be our little secret. Everything you say here is off the record. I do hope you learn more about yourself and your motivations during your time on the team. I don’t want you growing into that mindset.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, one last question. I really need to sleep.”

I stared at the packet of milk in my hand. “Um, you are a founding member of the CAH, yes?”

“Yes. I joined straight out of university.”

“What was it like?”

“The early days? Pretty violent. People think of the Council’s origins and remember only the Eight-Day War. But the situation was worse than that. There were lots of people waking up with powers and realizing they didn't need to answer to a government. We were being assaulted on all sides. The judiciary and the masses stood against us on one hand, the government and their saboteurs on another. The Villains hovered somewhere in between, making sure everything burned.”

“How did you manage?”

Dia Mater grinned. “By being smart and cutting a lot of deals. It also helped that we had some of the noblest people wielding the best powers.”

“So, why leave Lagos for Newtown? It’s hard to imagine you abandoning all that. Not when your words carry such weight within the Council.”

She shrugged. “Because I felt like.”

“I get the feeling it is more than that.”

“It isn't, Volley.” Her fingers tightened around her cup. She stood and tossed it into a bin. “You got more than one question in, you sneaky boy, but this is where we call it a day.”

I nodded. “Thank you. Talking to you helped a lot.”

She ruffled my hair. I got the impression Dia Mater saw us junior Heroes as kids. Not that I wanted her to see me as a man or anything . . . No, not that . . .

“I’m glad it did,” she said. “You also reminded me of the old days too. I should probably include this in your team’s schedule. Your team might benefit from one-on-one interaction with ours.”

“Roger that.”

“I'll be going now, Volley.”

The clock showed half-past three. I stretched and made my way to the elevators, greeting the guards I passed. Most of them were cheerful enough though a few bore grim scowls, visible beneath the visors of their helmets.

Who were these men outside the uniform? Kabash had mentioned they were paramilitary, but they were inspiring enough in their own right. I couldn’t imagine doing what they did while being unpowered.

The elevator that went down to the Pacesetter base stood at the north end of the building. It was one of a trio of elevators, each servicing a different wing. The elevator on the left descended to the adult Hero quarters, while the largest in the middle went to the CAH holding cells. I took the one on the right, waiting for the automated scanners to confirm my identity.

“Volley descending now,” AV’s voice announced.

Night had fallen on the base, save for the ambient chatter of electric noise. I crossed the catwalk to the dorms on tip-toes, unwilling to shatter the tranquility. The lights were off in the corridor preceding the dorms, and I reached out, feeling my way around the walls. Someone collided with me.

“Umf! What the—?”

“Oww. Who's there?”

“Obong?”

“C-Chetachi?” She squeaked. “You’re just getting back?”

“Apparently.” I could make out her form much better than I had any right to do in the dark. Some side effect of my power? “What are you doing here? This is the boys’ dorm.”

“Oh, Is it? I must have made a mistake.”

I crossed my arms, letting the sarcasm drip off my voice. “Right.”

Obong backpedaled. Her negligee was risqué, too risqué, even in the dim lighting. Skin spilled out of, well, everywhere, making it impolite to look.

“It's not what you think,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “I was just . . .”

I sighed. “I must be seeing things. That's the only explanation.”

She paused mid-stutter. “What are you saying?”

“I'm sleep-walking,” I said in a flat voice. I waved my arms and swerved around her. “I should return to bed. I'm sure I’ll remember none of this by tomorrow.”

Obong fell silent as I shuffled to my door. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

Huh.

I ditched my shoes and robot mask, then collapsed onto my bed. I pressed my face against the pillow.

Damn normies. I knew those two were close, but they didn't have to rub it in my face like that. The bullying better stop after this, or I was reporting to Kabash.

Kabash didn’t come the next morning. Neither did Catherine. Dia Mater waited in their stead, a frown crossing her features. We met her at the gym section, though I was at the back of the line this time, dragging feet.

Alewo lit up like a beacon. “Oh, Ms. Mater. I mean, Dia Mater! Ms. Dia Mater, ma! How can we help you?”

Dia Mater cocked her head. “Pacesetters, you have a new mission.”

Finally.

“What's it about?” Toye asked.

“Search and rescue,” Dia Mater replied. “About forty buildings collapsed in the Sagidi area at five this morning. Investigations are still ongoing, but we believe the collapses were caused by the explosion of a nearby pipeline. Roughly fifty thousand square meters of land area was leveled in the blast.”

“A pipeline explosion?” I asked. “Was it vandalized?”

“We can't say. Not until our private investigations are concluded. The Fire Service units have succeeded in taming the fires, but the real damage was inflicted by the shockwaves. Entire blocks of houses crumbled in the blast.”

Gosh. That sounded like a chaotic situation.

“Don't pipelines have a Right of Way?” Alewo asked, eyes wide. “How close were those buildings?”

“Someone would answer for that,” Dia Mater growled. “Right now, the people need our help with the rescue effort. First responders are present, but they are getting overwhelmed. With the fires doused, your inexperience shouldn't matter too much.” She clasped her hands behind her. “Keep in mind, Pacesetters: this will be gruesome. So, just this once, we won't make it compulsory. You are encouraged to serve, but we acknowledge that the team is green. Only those who volunteer may come.”

“I'm going,” Toye said.

The rest of us nodded.

Dia Mater smiled. “Suit up and get in the car. I’m driving this time.”