This wasn’t a school. It was a hell camp. Maven gave them no respite since the “training” began. The curriculum resembled torture more than anything. It wasn’t just the running, jumping, climbing, lifting, and stretching that made William want to collapse at every moment. The sparring was the real problem.

For all of them, Maven was an insurmountable wall. The first fight he had been in caused William to puke and pass out. Every single one of them ended up the same way. Even Samson was beaten down with only a single punch. Mav, able to move impossibly quickly, repeatedly punched, kicked, and slapped them for more than an hour during the initial encounter. He taunted them, urging them to give up. No one did, but all of them wanted to.

The next day they sparred again, all hoping they had passed some test and he would be lenient on them. But no, it was the same thing over and over. Maven started to add nutshots to the sparring matches. Berating the boys for not covering their most sensitive areas. Each fight was a new lesson on how they knew nothing, and it was maddening. Every time, William found a way to rise again. With a lot of effort, he mustered the courage to persist.

When Maven grew bored of beating them up, he sent them for a run. The group of five limped after him. They trailed the Arc as he swiftly traversed the school. They ran up stairs, down stairs, and through halls, establishing a track throughout the school. No one knew how long they ran, but William could tell it was miles.

After the run, he instructed them to stretch. Not a simple count to 10 while holding this position stretch. A 5 minute long yoga position that made Will’s muscles shake with effort to hold on. This was the point at which Mav brought out his Arc ability. Able to make and control electricity, he didn’t mind using the power around them. He shocked them when they mumbled under their breath or performed a movement incorrectly, causing each of them to yell out during the stretch session. But they stuck with it.

The stretches led to yet another spar. One where he actually taught them. He demonstrated throws, proper punching techniques, and practically anything he could think of before pairing them off and expecting them to practice against each other. Maven would pair up with the unlucky one. A role no one wanted. When paired up, they would attempt to be gentle with each other, but Mav remained just as ruthless as they had been in their previous sessions.

Once they were all good and exhausted from the sparring, it was only 10 a.m. That was their weight-lifting time. By that point, William’s muscles were shaking and aching more than ever before. His vision was going blurry; he couldn’t manage a real pushup, let alone use a bench press. But they did it. Every single one of them had to go down to low weights, but they did the exercises Maven demanded of them.

The old man had been there the entire time. Doing everything that he forced upon them. When Samson was barely able to lift the 45-pound bar over his head, Maven threw on a few hundred more pounds and lifted it with ease. Maven demonstrated to all of them their lack of expertise in the task at hand.

To William’s surprise, no one threatened to quit. He thought about it; he screamed the thought in his head. However, each time he contemplated quitting, he remained silent. He wanted to quit so badly, but the words never came out of his mouth. William silently followed Maven's instructions. When he could hardly lift his arm, Maven finally gave them a break.

“You all have a 2-hour break. You eat, then do what you want,” the old man said. The group would have cheered, but they were all too tired. They followed the old man to the cafeteria, where he had somehow made them all steak and potatoes, and began munching down as fast as possible. While they ate, the old man talked about the world none of them knew about.

“Since this is school, we might as well start with history class,” he said. No one slowed down their eating pace as he spoke. Even Katy was ravenous with hunger, chugging water and ignoring manners as they filled their achingly empty stomachs.

“Arcs are… Actually, let's start there. Where do you think the name Arc comes from?” Maven asked. No one answered. “Back when I was young, I was told it was because we were a jump in the evolutionary track. Where the track normally went in a straight line as we evolved from monkeys, this jump from normal people, to those with powers, was called an arc. Thus, that’s how we got our name.”

Will nodded. It made sense to him, but he was too busy cutting his steak to care. It was so difficult to hold a knife when his limbs continued to shake from exhaustion.

"I later learned that Arc stands for Arcane. As in, magic. Arcs, you see, are much older than people think. Many witch hunts back in the day weren’t always fake. You can find stories of people showing amazing powers for centuries.”

“Like Jesus?” Samson asked.

“Maybe, I have no idea; religion is outside of my wheelhouse,” Maven said. “But the world has had Arcs for a long time. The oldest Arc I've encountered is...well, I'm not sure. A couple of centuries at least.”

“Centuries?!” Katy yelled, and all turned to Maven, surprised by the statement.

“For sure. Some abilities allow people to live for a long time. You look around enough, you’ll find some that were in World War II, but look younger than I do,” Maven said.

“So Arcs fought in wars?” Ryu asked.

“Yeah, probably, but that’s a story for another time,” Maven said. “For now, simply know that the Dragoons aren’t a new thing. They’re simply the most organized.” The old man took a bite of his own food. He was thinking as he tried to continue another one of his lessons. "Hmmm, so Arcs weren't really that well known until the 1960s or 70s. When the government understood what kind of threat we could be they put a stop to entertainment about us.”

“Entertainment?” Santos asked, perking up. “Like movies?”

“More like comic books. Kids loved them, and they were cheap. There were old stories about hunters and the like, but back in the day, there were comics about Arcs, but they didn’t call them that. They called our kind super heroes.”

“Super heroes?” William asked, beating a few. "How is that different from a hero?"

“It’s more…super,” Maven said. “They had quite a few super heroes. One superman was really popular; I can’t remember his name, though. He was impossibly strong. Bullets would bounce off of him, and I think he could fly. It was fiction, of course. The hero was either an alien or something else entirely. Either way, they were popular, but a lot of governments outlawed the stories.”

“Why?” Katy asked.

"From what I've heard, there was an incident involving some Arcs." Got in the news. The government expressed disapproval towards individuals who looked up to Arcs. They didn’t straight out outlaw it, but they made it so stories that followed people with these super powers weren’t able to get past censors, so they couldn’t be published. This is one of the many reasons the Goons are promoting their own Arc movies.

“Jeez,” Samson said, shaking his. “There’s a lot I don’t freaking know.”

“And we’ve only just started,” Mav said. The room quieted as he finished, and Will focused back on his food. His stomach full to bursting, he forced it all down anyway.

As the others wrapped up their meals as well, William asked a question he always wondered. “Where did the Goons come from?”

“Space,” Maven said. “They’re aliens.” He kept a straight face for a while. The others slowed their food intake, questioning him until he burst out laughing. “I’m joking. They’re like you and me. People who awakened powers when they were younger. Only they found one another and decided to make their own path in the world.”

“Were they always the Goons?” Santos asked.

“No, I’m not sure when they started calling themselves that. Maybe before the Anarchist War,” Maven said, thinking back. "When I first met them, they were known as the Final Vanguard." They were a mercenary group.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Final Vanguard?” William uttered the words, seemingly experimenting with their meaning. “Sounds…less threatening. Kind of dumb, to be honest.”

“You’re telling me, but most mercenary groups were like that,” Maven said. "They'd have names like Black Battalion, Red Guard, or something. Hell, the Vanguard wasn’t the only Arc mercenary group. Countries around the world hired Arcs to handle their dirty work.”

“Why?” Katy asked.

“Why not?” Maven retorted. “Again, you all are quite weak. I would lump you in with average people.”

“Even me?” Samson asked, his muscles bulging slightly, as if accepting a challenge. He then winced and groaned as he felt the pain from the simple motion.

“Very much so,” Maven said. “You all play video games, right? Let’s imagine that you and every other average person in the world are level 1. The strength of an average Goon would be…8 or 9. Each individual has received physical and skill training, making them significantly stronger than the average person. Now the people that are actually trained to fight. The elites? Let’s say they’re level 20. But that’s the common foot soldier—the people who did the fighting during the Anarchist War. The top of the Goons? The real power? They should be at least level 100. They are individuals who actively engage in combat using their skills.

“What about you?” Ryu asked.

“Me?” Maven asked. "Oh, if the top active members of the Goons are level 100…I’m probably level 150.”

“Ha!” Katy laughed. “I have no idea what these scales mean, but it sounds like you’re full of crap.”

“Oh, I’m serious, young Katy,” Maven said with a wide smile. His ice blue eyes bore into her. “Goons don’t let their enemies live if they can help it. And I’ve lived a very long time.”

“So you’re their enemy now?” Santos asked hesitantly.

Maven simply smiled. “You have an hour and a half of rest. We start up again after that.” As he rose from his spot, the group followed him closely with their eyes. William wanted to talk to the others and get to know them a little. Perhaps he should attempt to discover the true identity of this enigmatic teacher. For now, though, he needed sleep. With a wince, he got up and went to their shared room to sleep.

And that's how every day unfolded, especially in the morning. After their break, during which most of them slept or at least tried to, they would practice with their abilities. Will was weak at first. Despite Maven’s insistence that he could help Will learn how to use the power, the old man was very hands-off. Allowing him to figure it out. Unsure what to do, he practiced focusing the glow to a point or forcing his entire body to glow. It was simple, but he had more practice with his power than he had in years. It didn't take long for his power to reach its limit.

Samson, Santos, Katy, and Ryu also practiced their skills. Samson was able to make his body grow stronger. This was a skill Maven had previously restricted him to during their workouts. William watched as the big man’s muscles bulged out. Allowing him to lift more weights. But he, too, had a limit. It wasn’t long until he collapsed and struggled to breathe. He admitted to William that the power only helped him when he could focus, so Maven forced him to try to strengthen himself for longer periods of time while under duress.

Santos had the worst of it. He was able to sense pain in others. He explained that their pain felt like his own. Since they were exhausted and every movement hurt, the pain they all felt was an ever-present ache in him. Maven instructed him to concentrate solely on the suffering of others. The old man suggested the need for his ability, but Santos was unaware of its potential.

Katy was a little more experienced with her ability. Because she could create wind, her skill was basically invisible. She told of times she blew papers away, or was able to focus her power and push people down. After Maven mentioned being able to fly with the skill she was practicing using wind on a weighted ball. Trying her best to lift the ball with wind, the spherical surface was impossible for the frictionless wind to latch onto, but she used her power until she was exhausted.

Ryu’s ability was very odd. His body really did change into that of any animal whose blood he had ingested, and he had drank a lot of blood. William watched in utter shock as he watched the Asian man turn into a range of animals, from a dog to a full-on tiger. It freaked everyone out more than a little—except Katy, at least. Apparently, he had been part of a group near the Chicago Zoo. People had to put the animals down at the zoo, but not before he got a little of their blood.

It was absurd to believe that a person's mind could be trapped in the monkey trapezing between the gym's rafters, but it was true. Samson yelled at him to throw poop or make sure not to hump his leg when he was a dog. Unbothered by the whole new training they were doing, he appeared the most at ease.

After ability training, it was more sparring, then running, then lifting, and by the time it was time for sleep, they were exhausted again. Barely able to lift food up to their mouths, they ate slowly. Forcing it all in, then collapsing on the beds. Only for them to wake up and do it all over again.

For a whole week, each day was like that. Every morning he felt better, and by the night his mind and body were so exhausted that he hadn’t noticed they were sharing a room with Katy the entire time. At some point, Maven finished renovating bathrooms and made them shower on the third day. But besides their morning showers and midday break, they spent all of their waking hours working out.

Maven would talk to them about a wide range of subjects. Discussing different Arcs he had seen. Mostly fought against. William wasn’t too sure how one went around finding so many Arcs, but Mav got around. He talked about all of the places he had been to, along with tales of his exploits. He refrained from discussing his experiences during the Anarchist War, but prior to it, he had traveled extensively. Seeing all the world had to offer.

Will and the others were more than a little enamored by his stories. But Will was pretty gullible. Sometimes he worried the old man was lying. Then again, Mav was way stronger than he could understand. The sparring sessions were a testament to how much they didn’t know, which was a lot.

A week after he started going to school, Will realized he hadn’t been home yet. His Uncle Carl had never asked or stopped by. Katy and Ryu called home, but they were all sticking with whatever this was. Pushed beyond their limits, they learned as much as they could. This became evident when Mav repeatedly battered them.

“Fighting isn’t about taking the most hits,” Mav said as he stood over Samson. “You are tough, great, but you need to think ahead of your foe. Taking hits is not a solution.”

“You move too fast,” Samson said as he rubbed his chin. “I can’t get a hit in.”

“So? You still need to risk it,” Mav said, leaning forward and extended his hand out for the big man to take it. "There is a reason why this fight is important. Personally, I think people are only as strong as their obstacles. If it were easy to fight, you wouldn’t be pushing yourselves as hard. You must acclimate to these challenges to make the real world less harsh when it confronts you. The life of an Arc is 99% training, 1% fighting.”

“Why fight at all?” Katy asked. She hesitated as everyone's gaze shifted toward her. “I mean, we are all people. Can’t we work it out?”

"Yeah, in a perfect world. But you have to look at it from these people’s point of view. They were a lot like all of you, except they didn’t neglect their powers. They understood the potential benefits they could reap from their abilities. Many Arcs utilize their powers for beneficial purposes that don't harm others, but you are not targeting them. Your focus will be on those who use their powers for personal benefit. If they let you catch them, they’ll be thrown in prison. Something no one wants.”

Will slowly nodded. “How do you fight an Arc?” Katy inquired, biding her time until it was her turn to spar Mav. But it was also a good question, so the old man let it slide.

“With your fists. Hurry up; it's your turn,” he said, pointing in front of him.

Katy frowned but moved to her spot. “No, I mean, will we be weak against some powers? Like…are there any Arcs you don’t like to fight?”

“Arc powers are not a game of rock-paper-scissors,” Mav explained. “Fire doesn’t beat ice, water doesn’t beat fire. Abilities are more like chess, to be honest.”

“How’s that?” Katy asked.

"I once saw an Arc who could transform his skin into metal armor. He was fighting another Arc who could superheat his hands. He was so hot that he could melt metal, Mav said. “What do you think happened when the hot Arc fought the metal one?” No one answered. “Nothing. The metal Arc had a specialty for tungsten. He was able to more easily turn his skin into that metal. It takes thousands of degrees to heat tungsten. The heat Arc touched the man, and he had his head knocked off. It’s not weak or strong abilities in a fight. It’s strong or weak people.”

“What do you mean by specialty?” William asked.

“That’s a talk for another time,” Mav said. “Let’s go.” Katy frowned but nodded, only for Mav to start ringing. She let out a sigh as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an old cell phone. “Yep,” Mav said, stepping away.

“That was close,” Katy mumbled.

“Don’t put it off. Just makes it worse,” Ryu said.

Katy said, "Says the guy with a black eye." Ryu chuckled, gingerly touching the bruised up eye.

“I’m about asleep,” Samson mumbled, taking a big yawn. “Are we about done?”

“I think we usually do another round,” Santos said.

“This is freaking torture. I can-” Samson said, but was cut off as Mav walked back as he hung up the phone.

“Good news. We got our first case. Suit up; you have an Arc to fight,” Mav said. Everyone stared at him in stunned silence.