Novels2Search

First Years and First Impressions

“Listen up, greenhorns!”

The dark-skinned man in the jumpsuit was yelling at the two dozen or so young people who had disembarked from the helicopters onto Villains Island beach. They were all around Max’s age, of varied races, and wore radically different styles of clothing, as if they hailed from all around the world. Different emotions were evident on their faces: fear, awe, confusion, anticipation, and excitement.

In Max’s case, all of the above.

The beach was a pristine stretch of white sand, framed on one side by the azure sea, and a lush green jungle on the other. Salty sea air mixed with the earthy aroma of the jungle. The sun beat down pleasantly, reflecting off the sand and sparkling off the water with a brilliance that was almost blinding.

This was a tropical paradise, one whose pictures would really pop on the pages of a glossy travel magazine.

But a gilded cage was still a cage, Max thought. He was a kidnap victim. A prisoner. Despite his heavenly surroundings, he felt like he had been tossed into the fiery pits of hell. All he wanted was to escape, to return to the life he had left behind. Twenty-four hours ago, he would have given anything to escape that life, which at the time had seemed its own kind of hell.

Be careful what you wish for, Max thought ruefully. Out of the frying pan of Mississippi, into the fire of . . . wherever in the hell this place is.

The sight of Prometheus Academy looming over the island only added to Max’s trepidation. Despite the castle’s magnificence, Max was already thinking of it as an enemy presence, an unnatural construction thumbing its nose at the laws of architecture and gravity. It seemed to defy even the bright tropical sunshine, casting a long shadow that darkened the sand beneath it. The castle was a harbinger of doom, a dark omen that portended trials awaiting within its walls.

Sometimes I’m overly dramatic, Max conceded to himself. Today my flair for the dramatic is justified.

The yelling of the dark-skinned man in the jumpsuit jolted Max from his dark thoughts.

“Gather around and pay attention because I’m not going to tell you this stuff twice. No, no, NO! Don’t stand behind me. God, I hate first years! Stand in front of me where I can keep an eye on you.”

Max was one of the people who had started toward the man’s rear. He dutifully moved to the front instead, stopping next to Damian. Until Max got the lay of the land, he wouldn’t make waves. Especially since the android helicopter pilots clustered around them were all armed with futuristic-looking pistols in holsters.

Once he did get the lay of the land, though, he was determined to make his escape.

But in the meantime, he desperately had to pee. Weird how the need for a bathroom break never seemed to come up in movies, books, or TV shows. Fictional characters must’ve had bladders the size of septic tanks.

“That’s better,” the dark-skinned man said once everyone was clustered before him. He was probably only a few years older than Max, but carried himself with the self-assurance of someone decades older. Max pegged him for Indian or Pakistani, but wasn’t sure as he had never seen either ethnicity in real life before. The man’s sleek, dark charcoal jumpsuit clung to his athletic form and shimmered faintly under the sun. On the jumpsuit’s chest were four distinct symbols: on the left, a blue bar next to what seemed to be a DNA helix; on the right, a pentagon next to the emblem of a mountain peak with a crown at its summit. Max had to admit the guy’s outfit was pretty snazzy; it certainly put his own ratty black outfit to shame.

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The dark-skinned man’s eyes lingered on Damian, as if taking his measure. If Damian noticed he was being singled out for attention, he gave no sign.

The man’s eyes finally shifted from Damian. He barked at all of them.

“First lesson of the day: Don’t let people you don’t know stand behind you. And precious few of those you do know. It’s a good way to get got.

“My name is Ravi. You all are about to enter your freshman year at Prometheus Academy. I’m not going to ask your names because I will happily forget that you infants exist approximately twenty minutes from now. You see this?”

He jerked a thumb at the pentagon on his chest.

“That means I’m a senior. A fourth year. I’ve been assigned to waste my precious time babysitting you infants long enough to get you safely inside Prometheus Academy without pooping yourselves.”

“What do the other symbols on your chest mean?” The question came from a diminutive girl with mousy brown hair.

“Second lesson of the day: Speak only when spoken to. But still, not the dumbest question I’ve heard a first year ask.”

Ravi pointed with pride at the mountain peak emblem on his chest.

“This is the designation for the Apex Division. It’s the best Division in the school.” He said it matter-of-factly, the way a scientist might state settled science: Matter is composed of atoms, objects in motion tend to stay in motion, and the Apex Division is the best by a country mile. “There are seven Divisions. You’ll learn about each during your formal orientation later. If you’re both lucky and good, you’ll make the cut for the Apex Division. Judging from the looks of most of you, I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

He paused and glanced around, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Stay away from the lunatics in the Anarchy Division. They’re menaces. Last year, they inverted the gravity in the entire castle. Took days for the Gadgetry and Occult Divisions to reverse it. If it were up to me, I’d set them all adrift in the ocean on a leaky raft and bade the sharks bon appétit. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Ravi straightened, clearing his throat with another quick look around.

“The helix,” he resumed explaining, pointing at the emblem on the left of his chest, “indicates my Unreal power category. In my case, Shifter. The blue bar next to it means my power mastery is at Adept level.

“And that brings us to why we’re having this tiresome tête-à-tête—your power mastery level. Most of you recently had your Awakenings. Which means you haven’t used your powers for very long. Which further means they’re not fully developed and that you don’t know how to effectively use them. You’re at what we call the Initiate level, two levels below where I’ve managed to climb during my years here at the academy. As Initiates, you’re like toddlers who’ve just been handed a gun—you’d love to pull the trigger to hear it go bang, but you have no idea how to responsibly wield the power you have.

“Until you’ve been trained in the use of your powers, you’re a danger to yourself and others. So from this point forward, the use of your Unreal powers is strictly prohibited. The only time you will use them will be when someone in authority gives you the okay. Probably when they’re teaching you how to shoot your metaphorical guns without blowing your genitals off. Or worse, mine. Violators will be severely punished. The academy has a bunch of rules, but for you first years, not using your superpowers is the biggest one. So if you’re going to murder someone, do it with your bare hands and not your plasma vision.”

Ravi paused, letting his words sink in. Max couldn’t tell if the upperclassman had been kidding about strangling someone. He feared he wasn’t.

“One more thing before I escort you into the academy where I’ll gladly wash my hands of you,” Ravi said. “Those of you who aren’t completely deaf, blind, and stupid have noticed you were flown here by androids. We call them servitors. The academy is riddled with them. If you have a question, ask a servitor or a faculty member. You can ask an upperclassman—if you dare—but we’re under no obligation to help or be nice to you. This isn’t a Hero academy filled with Boy and Girl Scouts eager to help you little old ladies cross the street. We’ve got our own studies, projects, and schemes to worry about. I’d be working on my senior thesis right now if I weren’t wasting my precious breath lecturing you infants. The Supreme Leader of North Korea isn’t going to depose himself, you know.”

Max blinked at how Ravi had said that last bit completely deadpan. This time, he was certain the upperclassman wasn’t kidding.

“Okay,” Ravi said, clapping his hands together, “I’ll entertain any non-stupid questions you have before we head into the academy.”