Getting into the classroom was easier said than done. The school had anticipated troublemakers and cape superfans trying to crash the interview, just like I was trying to do. I saw the four teachers posted at the end of the hallway close to the stairs catch a group of students who had tried to sneak in with the journalism club members. They were asking for IDs and checking them against a printed list of members.

I checked the other end of the hallway to find the same level of security. I quickly abandoned the idea of getting there the normal way. The student council president was allowed through with barely a glance. So they bent the rules for their favorites, but I was sure I was not on that list.

Dejected, I turned to leave before noticing a classroom just a couple of steps away from the teachers. I darted over to the classroom just as some asshole decided to start an argument with the teachers.

Just as I had suspected, the window was open. The wind blew in from it, stirring up a couple of abandoned textbooks. This was a bad idea, but most of my ideas were inherently bad.

I put a leg over the window to feel the concrete lining that was jutting out just under the window. It was one of the few attempts to make the school look better that hadn't been vandalized or broken, mainly because most people couldn't reach it.

After making sure it would support my weight, I placed both my feet on it while still firmly holding onto the window. Now came the hard part. Adhesive poured out of my fingers, and I coated my right arm with it. Then I slowly reached out, stuck my arm as far as it would go, and stuck it in place. I moved to the right a couple of steps and stuck my left palm to the wall.

I quickly produced acetone from my right hand and moved it again. And so began the slow and frightening process of me trying to get to the closest classroom to The Wards. Most of the students had left, and the few that remained probably had better things to do than hang around the back of the school building.

Still, I felt like I could get caught at any second. The wind blew me against the wall, and the sweet smell of acetone and the smell of glue overpowered everything else. Gravel and all manner of trash fell away with the movement of my feet.

Finally, after what felt like an hour but was probably just five minutes, I heaved myself through the window of an adjacent classroom, shaking and sweating all while smelling like I had fallen into a vat of nail polish.

I quickly hid my scent by throwing my soaked hoodie out of the window, and I began eating away the rest of the smells with chemicals.

Luckily, the people in the other room seemed to be preoccupied. The sounds of chatter flowed out of the room, an indiscernible buzz that I couldn't pick out any words from. The sounds of camera shutters followed as people tested their devices.

A hush fell over the room as a pair of footsteps grew louder, and then the room went stock still as a group moved in. I put my ear against the wall, and listened as the session began.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

A person, who I assume was the manager, began with a brief introduction, followed by some simple introductions by the team.

They were standard fare for a cape team. They went down the line, starting with Dauntless and then moving around to the other members. Sidewinder, Nostrum, Riot, and Attrition. A close range striker, a mover, a healer, someone for crowd control, and a trapper.

After the introductions, it was time to ask questions. The press began with some simple icebreakers before the questions I was worried about began to be asked.

"Can you explain the reason for your presence in the city?"

A person I was sure was Dauntless spoke up.

"While I cannot reveal much at this point in time, I can say that it is in relation to the constant metahuman crime in the city paired with the borderline anarchy in the city. Due to these factors, the Metahuman Regulatory Board has decided to ramp up measures to clean up the city."

"You are aware of the delicate balance of power blocs and how direct action might collapse the balance of power and lead to more problems?"

"When the city has a crime rate that is one of the highest in the country, instability is a preferred alternative to complete loss of control and power to street gangs."

So they didn't care about the gang wars and violence that marked the downfall of the gangs because to them, it was just a very bad statistic being replaced with a bad statistic. Good to know.

"There were reports of you being spotted in the south yesterday, deep in the old industrial district. Was your task there related to your work in the city?"

I felt my heart beat a little bit faster and pressed my ear to the wall.

"I can neither conform nor deny my whereabouts yesterday."

So she was part of a larger operation yesterday? Or was it just a show of force?

"Will you be transferring here?"

"If the state of the city does not improve in the time we are here, then yes, us transferring here permanently is a possibility."

That would be bad. The reason the gangs would function was because there was no one to oppose them. But who should I tell this to? Leo? Red? But these statements would probably end up in some newspaper anyway.

After that, the questions shifted to lighter topics and personal questions, and I learned nothing of importance from the answers.

As I waited for the interview to end, I heard a set of footsteps leave. The conversation in the room quickly started up again, and this time it was accompanied by people dismantling lights and equipment.

I took a seat in one of the chairs at the back of the classroom to wait. While I could climb out of the window, I wasn't very keen on doing something like that again. One thing I did learn from the experience was that I was not an adrenaline junkie.

As I waited for the crowd to thin, the wind picked up, and I glanced towards the window. A figure in a full black bodysuit glanced back at me.

"What the fuc-"

Slipstream moved like lightning and put a hand over my mouth, and another on my wrist.

I screamed again as we seemed to fall through bluish black space. I felt like I was being compressed and then rapidly expanded as the colors shifted into the interior of a squad van.

A taser hit my neck as I finished appearing, and the last thing I felt was a net wrapping around me as something coated my skin.

My power activated subconsciously, neutralizing whatever tranquilizer was on the net.

Fuck. If I was still standing after a while, they would assume I was a meta and would abandon restraint. However, letting myself be knocked out would also ensure that I would be at the mercy of my captors, and they would definitely at least question me.

Gritting my teeth, I chose the action that had the best chance of me escaping with my cover intact, and suppressed my power.

Immediately, a deep-seated drowsiness took hold of me, and I crashed to the floor of the van.