Despite being monstrous in its display, Jeremiah Stoudemire’s Blessing is rare and exciting to see. My highest priority in facilitating his proficiency in such an ability is not in training, but in assisting Jeremiah in coming to terms with such a grotesque Blessing.

-Roger Hill’s Notes

Jeremiah knew he wasn’t ready to be a superhero. 

Meeting his future Instructor only confirmed his doubts.

On the day Jeremiah met Roger, he was nervous. Nervous and doubtful. The two traits of Jeremiah that always took space in his thoughts. Today, those traits took up all of the space.

It was no surprise to Jeremiah that he was not accepted into Myriad High. The premier Principality, a school for training those with Blessings used for combat and rescue, would only accept the cream of the crop. What surprised him is that he landed the waiting list, rather than being blown off completely. Jeremiah applied to every Principality in the New Empire, not even expecting to hear an answer back from Seraph City’s beloved academy. 

But here I am, somehow. Jeremiah thought. Flown across the country to sit on my hands for a ‘maybe.’ Jeremiah currently stood in a shared boy’s bathroom, washing his face for the third time. 

Temporary housing aside, the Holding Company Dorms were luxurious. If he didn’t know where he was, Jeremiah would think he was in a five-star hotel room. Amenities and all, it was definitely the nicest place he’s lived in. 

He was supposed to meet his future Instructor today. 

But who is he really? Jeremiah wondered.

The Head Instructors of Myriad High were famous Agents of T.H.R.O.N.E. except for Miscellaneous Instructor Roger Hill. Jeremiah was a light enthusiast of Agents and other Blessed, but he never heard of this man. The fear of that unknown led to Jeremiah splashing hot water in his face for the fourth time today.

My face… Jeremiah looked in the mirror and saw the familiar blend of frog and human. 

It was a wide and fat face, with lips that extended to fit his peculiarly amphibious appearance. He had human teeth where it should be, but that only served to make him look weirder. Things could be worse though. His skin was a normal beige when it could have been green or something. The eyes could also have looked like a frog’s as well, but Jeremiah’s were perfectly human. A little bit bigger and slightly spread out, but that can be explained as normal ugliness.

Jeremiah was super, all right.

Super ugly.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Through the other door of Jeremiah's connected bathroom, his roommate snores in his bed. He never got a chance to speak to the messy-haired boy. He must have come in late at the dead of night. Jeremiah poked his head through the open door at his sleeping roommate. The room listing had his name and class. They were both supposed to meet Instructor Hill today, so it’s only right to wake up a peer before they’re late. Even so, Jeremiah hesitated.

Should he wake Isaac up?

What kind of person was he?

Jeremiah started sweating profusely. He’s never had a roommate before. What if this leads to a bad start? Will Isaac hate him? How long will they be roommates? Can he switch rooms? What if he starts a fight? No wait, what if Isaac gets kicked off the list for being late on the first day? Then it’ll be Jeremiah’s fault. Was he overthinking things?

Of course he was overthinking this. He always does. Jeremiah realized he was breathing heavily, and slowed himself down as he entered Isaac’s bedroom. He placed a tentative hand on Isaac’s shoulder and shook him a few times. As he did this, Jeremiah glanced at his watch and gawked at the time. How long was he sitting there, paralyzed?

Jeremiah practically leaped out of the door and made a dash for the exit outside. Hopefully, the half-hearted shaking will wake Isaac up, for there was no more time to waste. Maybe being a few minutes late won’t be as bad as showing up hours later? Jeremiah thought. He hastily showed his freshly-minted identification card to the gate guard and rushed out.

Instructor Hill wanted to meet with three members of the Miscellaneous Holding Company in Downtown Seraph. Unfortunately for Jeremiah, the Holding Dorms are above ground, while the L-Train is underground. Even then, he should still have a chance to make it on time.

That chance disintegrated once he checked his watch. Bullet Train Four would embark in seven minutes. The direct Train to Downtown Seraph that didn’t allow passengers to board five minutes prior to leaving, would embark in seven minutes. 

“It’s over…” Jeremiah uttered. “Over before it started.” He slumped against the wall beside the academy gates. The L-Train is fast, but Seraph City’s fifteen square kilometers of land was more than a small journey. Bullet Train Four wouldn't return and disembark for another thirty minutes, which meant Jeremiah was about to make a hell of an impression on the only Instructor who would actually give him a chance. Before he could agonize any further, Jeremiah heard a voice on his right.

“Yo! Whatcha doing on the floor, roomie?”

Jeremiah snapped his head towards the voice. It was the same disheveled boy Jeremiah was shaking awake no more than five minutes ago. Isaac was fully dressed in the academy’s uniform, though it looked like it went through a windstorm. He had a squinty, impish grin plastered on his face. Jeremiah could tell he wasn’t from Seraph City; a kindred soul. The tan skin and hazel eyes weren’t the biggest clue, but his cheerful demeanor was a spotlight that could rival the sun. He absentmindedly rubbed at the dark blotch of a birthmark on his brow.

“How… are you here?” Jeremiah asked.

Isaac extended a hand to Jeremiah and helped him up. 

“Just hauled some ass is all.” Isaac smiled. “Thanks for waking me up, my man. I’m Isaac.”

“I’m Jeremiah. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It looks like we’re both gonna be late, though. By the schedule, Bullet Train Four leaves in three minutes and we won’t get another chance until 0800.” Jeremiah sighed, beginning to shrink against the gate once more.

“Sheesh,” Isaac said, adding very much to the conversation. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, I think it sucks a lot, actually.”

“Wait, you said it closes in three minutes?”

Jeremiah looked at Isaac, who still had his hand on his chin, despite looking anything but the contemplative type. The messy-haired boy grinned and said, “I got a genius plan, my man. Let’s haul some ass.”