“My mother will be visiting,” Amelia said.

“Oh?” Carrie paused. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I do not know what to feel.” Though an unreadable expression stretched across the pale chitin of her face.

“Well, how much time do you have?”

“I am not sure,” Amelia said. “She usually prefers flying herself.”

“Isn’t your house across the Atlantic?”

“She will be leaving tomorrow,” Amelia said. “We discussed it days ago, but it did not feel real until this moment. It will take her two hours to arrive.”

“Why are you so nervous?” Lyssa asked.

Amelia paused. She was not the type to pause. She always seemed to have an answer to any question. The confidence defined her.

“I do not know,” she said. Her eyes appeared distant.

Amelia would be the first to retire for the night, leaving just Lyssa and Carrie in the living room.

“Can’t imagine the pressure,” Carrie commented. “My folks just said, ‘You be careful now’ after the incident.” She immediately regretted speaking, wincing apologetically.

I don’t really care, Lyssa almost said. Instead she said, “I’ve made peace with their passing. I think I’m happy the way things are now.”

“You think?”

Lyssa did not clarify.

The next day the campus square lit up with activity. Journalists walked past blocks of drone security and guards so they could allowed inside to talk to the nascent heroes. A thick overcast had hung over the sky, so a few select heroes had been employed to clear a hole in the clouds. Biological energies bore into the weather. It would be maintained from late morning to early afternoon.

Whitworth surveyed the event from the top of the campus headquarters behind one-way glass. He was multitasking. On one line of attention he was monitoring the city. A Magpie multipurpose jet flew higher than any bird. It was not equipped with a surveillance camera, but a support hero with eyes more sophisticated than any imaging device. Congress did not like the idea of technology watching the American people in the hands of the gifted. As with many matters, they did not consider all the possibilities.

“How is she doing?” Whitworth asked.

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“Fine,” Jackson said. “Considering we just threw her straight into the exercise. Most Clandestine candidates don’t do a simulation until at least a term worth of theory.”

“I can only assume our bad actors have been here for a long time, watching us, planning.” Whitworth made a face. “That man Sokolov brought in? I peeled apart his mind. It’s not money or revenge like ninety percent of the manchildren that put on dark motifs and swing their fists at society. There’s reason in their plans. Drive. They think they’re right.

“I need someone they won’t expect. Someone they haven’t seen operate. The rest of us have to act predictably, for now.”

“Ostentatiously,” Jackson said. He nodded at the square below.

A man who looked like an animated Greek statue with clothes walked among the tiny students.

“Oh,” Whitworth remarked. “That’s fine too. The students need the symbolism right now. We’ll get through this.”

“You’re very sure.”

“This isn’t the first or the last time they’ve tried to divide us. It perforce falls to people like us to keep the bonds tight.”

The event was an important one for first-years. Heroes from professional teams and gifted agencies came to gauge the material they have to work with. There were many paths available for a M.A.G.E student, in a cape or without. Though there was a lot less data to work with this year.

For the students it was a break from the gloom of the world around them. Grand performances played in full view of all attendees. Gifted juggling colorful energies, doing impossible acrobatics, wearing livery appropriate to their abilities. The culture of powers, raw and undiluted from integration with normal civilization. The young men and women took to it like moths to a flame with the tide of darkness at their tail.

“Oh this is so awesome,” Penny said with a squeal. “Let’s check out that one!” She began to drag Amelia by the hand.

“We are here to be presentable for scouters, Penny,” Amelia said sternly, though she followed Penny’s pulling.

Carrie returned with a liter of soda and a bag of popcorn drizzled with caramel and butter. Lyssa gave her a confused look.

“I think I don’t get what this mentorship program is,” Lyssa said.

“Ah, well, for us it’s a way to show off to pros,” Carrie said while working studiously on her popcorn. “There’ll be these podiums and rings springing up soon. You can compete in a more measured way against our peers. The difference is you’re not trying to impress a ten-year-old sitting on a couch stuffing his face with junk food.”

“Right.”

“There’ll be ethics debates too,” Carrie continued. “And other forms of verbal contest. My pa loves those. Says, gives a more mature facet to the whole protecting the innocent thing besides how hard someone can punch. I mean, how can you be for or against heroism if you don’t understand it, right? Or something.”

“This will be streamed too?”

“Sure, but comparatively, almost no one watches this. It’s ‘boring’.”

The school grounds looked like a cross between a tech showcase and a carnival. There were no camera drones hovering in the air. Just people with microphones and cameras. If Carrie was right, it seemed odd that this event was so muted. Lyssa had only heard of it days ago.

Muted might have been an overstatement however, as a booming voice rose above the din. Giantsbane stood at a manageable size—only about twenty feet, shouting verbose welcomes at the visitors and students. Rivers of people naturally gravitated to his immense aura.

“Wonder why none of the other heroes care as much about public appearances,” Carrie said. “It probably would bolster our image.”

“It could also give people an effigy.”

“A what?”

“If you already like something, putting a face to it makes you like it more. And vice versa.” Lyssa shrugged. “That’s what I think anyhow.”

“Let’s check it out!” Carrie exclaimed. Her thoughts were already elsewhere.

“Okay,” Lyssa said with an endearing sigh.