Meta Box Set | Books 1-3, page 58
part #1 of Meta Box Set | Books 1-3 Series
This waste of space just sucker punched me!
I haven't even regained my bearings before I hear, "You son of a-" followed by the sound of something hard hitting flesh. There's a crunch, and then I'm no longer the only one lying on the ground.
Canary Yellow is right next to me, holding his nose as blood gushes out of it and runs down between his fingers.
"Come on," Sarah says, extending her hand out to me to help me off the ground. I take it as I try to shake away the stars floating around my head. She's still holding my hand, using it to hurry me along with her as we leave.
"You might want to get that checked out. I think it's broken, by the way," she yells over her shoulder.
"Thanks for standing up for me back there," Sarah says as we near her door.
"I should be the one thanking you. Where did you learn how to do that?" I ask.
Right after the words come out of my mouth, I realize that the place she most likely learned how to do that was The Agency. But that doesn't make sense. She was a computer tech there for the most part. It doesn't make much sense to train someone with that kinda job how to fight, especially when all the fighting skills in the world aren't going to do much in the face of a pissed-off metahuman who's being locked up.
"My mom," she says while she fumbles with her keys to open her dorm room. "She made me take karate classes when I was a kid. Said I needed to learn how to protect myself. That was before she took off herself, of course."
"Well, whatever the reason was, I'm glad you were there to kick that guy's ass for me," I say.
Sarah gives me the kind of smile that reminds me of how much I miss her everyday.
"Anytime," she says before leaning over and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Don't be such a stranger, okay?"
"I'll try," I reply.
"Goodnight, Connor."
"Goodnight, Sarah."
19
Class the next day, or rather “regular” class the next day feels like a blur. I'm barely able to keep my head off the desk all morning. When I got home last night the party was over, luckily, but the place was more or less trashed. Tyler was passed out on his bed, sleeping on top of the covers with his sneakers still on, but at least I didn't have to deal with him awake. That didn't make pulling the vomit-stained comforter off my bed and sleeping on a bare mattress any more enjoyable, though. At least I made sure he was still alive when I left for class this morning. He should owe me for that one.
The only thing getting me through today is knowing that my tests should finally be over and done with at the facility. That means my training, the actual reason I'm here in the first place, should finally begin. I expect it to be hard. It wouldn't be very valuable training if it wasn't. Even though I'm exhausted, my curiosity about what exactly I'll be doing later today is helping me forget how severely sleep deprived I am.
It takes a lot of restraint not to flat out run to the Blair Building when the final bell rings. Everything about the building is supposed to be about discretion, though. No one runs to after-school study circles, so that means I shouldn't either.
"Hello there, Mr. Connelly," Michelle says when the elevator door opens at the basement level of the facility.
"Hi, Michelle. I was starting to think I'd never actually see you here again," I say.
"You're not that lucky."
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
"I know you're not especially fond of me."
"Why do you think that?"
"You mean besides lying to you and your brother about who I am for months and then bringing you to this new place where you don't know anyone and we run you ragged?"
"Oh yeah, all that stuff. It's fine. Water under the bridge. Honestly, it's just good to see a familiar face."
"I'm glad to hear that. It's good to see you again too."
Michelle waves for me to follow her down the hallway.
"Why were you back in Bay View City? Aren't pretty much all the metas run out of there by now?"
"I was following up on a few potential recruits. Also, Derrick is still my boyfriend, and despite your opinion of me as a cold-hearted liar, I do still have feelings."
"So you missed him?"
"Yes."
We keep walking in awkward silence. I'm not quite sure why it's so hard for Michelle to admit that she likes her boyfriend, but I'm guessing it has something to do with her being undercover so much. It's got to be hard to let people in when your entire life is otherwise full of lies and misdirection. I'm just glad to hear the truth about her feelings for Derrick, even if she's pretty terrible at articulating them. If he hadn’t found Michelle when he did, I was worried that I'd have to start trawling the old folks' homes for him.
"We're going to be in here today," Michelle says as she places her hand on a palm plate to open the door next to it.
Beyond the door is a large room, but I'm used to that by now. What's different about this room is what it's full of: dummies.
There must be a hundred human-sized dummies, standing upright, arranged throughout the room. Another difference with this room is that there's a large glass window overlooking it. Behind the window I can see an array of computer equipment and chairs. There’re already a few people seated in those chairs, typing away so diligently that they hardly even notice Michelle and me as we step into the room.
"This is our Collateral Damage Reduction Simulator. We call it 'CoDRS' for short around here," Michelle says.
"Of course you do. Who doesn't love acronyms?" I ask rhetorically.
"Within this room, we're able to simulate a wide spectrum of disaster scenarios, the purpose of which is to train the metahuman subject in tactics applicable to saving human lives in such situations."
"So I have to save the dummies?"
"More or less, yes."
"Seems straightforward enough."
"It may seem that way, but often it's not. Tell me, what's the biggest distinction between a metahuman like yourself and a metahuman that the general public would consider a menace?"
"I'm not a bad guy?" I ask, not quite sure what she's getting at exactly.
"No, the biggest difference is that you, and as a whole, we, are sensitive to human causalities above all else. It's what separates a metahuman with just good intentions and a hero. It's making the right decisions in the moment, when those choices aren't black and white, but the outcome may potentially affect thousands of lives."
In front of us, a door on the far wall opens. From behind it, Nathanial and Calvin walk out.
"Ah, I didn't know you boys were here already," Michelle says. "Connor, you've already met Nathanial and Calvin."
The pair enter the room, both activating their metabands and corresponding uniforms. Calvin’s is deep blue with metallic silver accents running throughout. Nathanial's is entirely black with only his eyes visible, not unlike a ninja outfit.
"Yeah, we all know each other. So what, we're all training together now?"
"In a way. Nathanial and Calvin will be assisting today, but they will be fighting against you rather than with you. As you know, Calvin is an Elemental with the ability to control water. Nathanial has the ability to create almost any type of weapon imaginable. Their only goal during this exercise will be to escape this room to fight another day."
I materialize my metabands and activate them. Since the other guys are in uniform, there's no reason why I shouldn't be too. So with a thought, the deep-red Omni uniform seeps out from my metabands and wraps around my body. Calvin smirks. I'm not sure if it's because he's excited to see me as Omni or if he's just excited for the fight that's coming.
"All right, boys, before we get too excited here, let's go ahead and take a minute to lower our power output. We don't want anyone getting hurt during training, nor do we want anyone putting a hole through the walls again," Michelle says, directing the last part at Calvin.
"I'm still sorry about that if it helps," he says.
All three of us do as instructed and dampen our powers by dragging a finger across one of our metabands, deactivating a series of blue lights.
"So what's my goal then?" I ask Michelle as I feel my power slowly ratcheting down.
"Your goal, Omni, is very simple. You are to retrieve the item inside this box."
Right on cue, a box about the size of a microwave oven rises up from a previously obscured opening in the floor. I'm starting to think that every surface in this place is hiding something behind it.
"What's inside the box?" I ask.
"It could be stolen valuables, or a weapon, a bomb, or a pair of inactivated metabands. It could be anything, really. Today, it doesn't matter; the box is simply a stand-in for an item in Calvin and Nathanial's possession that you must attempt to retrieve while they do everything they can to stop you. In this particular scenario, they will not be trying to harm civilians unnecessarily, but they are also not required to put any effort into avoiding harming them either, so keep that in mind."
Nathanial cracks his knuckles and Calvin bends his head side to side, loosening his neck.
"Okay then. Are there any final questions before I retire to the observation level so one of you doesn't accidentally splatter me along with these dummies?" Michelle asks.
We all shake our heads. We're ready.
"Good. Then I'll leave you to it. Wait for the countdown before you begin."
Michelle walks through the doorway that Calvin and Nathanial used to enter the room, and it closes behind her. A few seconds later, she appears in the window to the observation deck above the room, and she takes a seat and begins fiddling with some of the controls on the computer in front of her.
"Beginning CoDRS training sequence," a computerized voice booms through unseen speakers hidden somewhere in the walls, "in three, two-"
Before the disembodied voice can say 'one,' some kind of small throwing knife appears in Nathanial's hand. He sees me notice it and, in an instant, flicks it toward me. The knife cuts through the air so quickly that I know immediately I have no hope of dodging it. I might not have had a chance even if my powers were at a hundred percent. The knife tumbles through the air end over end as it flies straight for my head, but right as I flinch to prepare for the impact, something strange happens: it misses.
"Civilian casualty," the computerized voice declares. I turn to look behind me and see that the knife found its true target; it’s wedged right between the eyes of one of the dummies. I turn back to face my sparring partners, and even though the bottom half of his face is obscured by his uniform, I can tell by his eyes that Nathanial is smiling.
"It's going to be like that, huh? All right then," I say right before launching myself head first in Nathanial's direction. My right shoulder slams into his rib cage, and I wrap both arms around his torso tightly, taking him along for the trip. I slam right into the spot where there had been a door only seconds before. The wall holds under the impact, and I can feel something crack inside Nathanial right before I'm thrown in the opposite direction.
I'm starting to choke, my lungs filling up with water. I can't see or hear anything over the sound of thousands of gallons of water hitting me at high pressure. I don't need to be able to see or hear to know that it's Calvin attacking me. Without looking, I fly straight up into the air. The torrent of water follows me, but not quickly enough to stop me from getting a good look at the current situation. Nathanial is slowly working his way back up to his feet as Calvin stands in the center of the room, focusing his efforts on trying to keep me grounded.
I have to think. Nathanial and Calvin both must have weaknesses that I can exploit. Calvin is the more immediate threat, or at the very least, annoyance. I can't concentrate on how to open up that box when I've got water being blasted in my face. The pressure and speed of the water is so high that it's almost solid. That's when it occurs to me what Calvin's weakness might be.
It's been a while since I've had to use the ability, which will make it a little harder to control. I block the hurricane of water with my hands to try concentrating for a second. With my eyes closed I can hear the first tiny crackling noise from inside the jet stream of liquid.
It's working.
I double down on concentrating, focusing all of my energy at the water. There's a sudden loud pop, and when I open my eyes, I can see it worked.
I froze it all, starting with the water that had been hitting me and then all the way down the line until it reached the end. Calvin's arms are almost completely encased in solid ice, all the way up to his shoulders.
Nathanial's turn. He's already running toward Calvin to break him out. I use the opportunity to fly at the box set up in the middle of the room, hoping that the impact will be enough to break it open.
Instead, I find myself sprawled out on the ground, my head throbbing with pain from where it smashed into the stationary box. I look up and see that the box is still there, completely intact. Smashing it probably wasn't a good idea in the first place since I don't know what's in it or if it’s volatile, but I wasn't thinking about it in the moment. In the moment I saw an opportunity and took it with my now very sore head.
I look over toward Calvin, half expecting to see him laughing at me, but his attention is on Nathanial. Nathanial is standing in front of him, conjuring a large broadsword in his hands. As soon as the sword materializes, he brings it down with all his strength, right into the ice currently restricting Calvin's arms. The ice shatters like it were made of glass, and Calvin is free again. The two turn their attention back toward me, which is exactly what I want.
Calvin is first. Having learned his lesson about getting too close to me, he hangs back and uses his ability to create something made from water that he doesn't have to be in physical contact with to control: a water cyclone. The cyclone is small, maybe only ten feet high, but it is spinning with an intensity you would never see in nature. Once it ramps up to a speed where it no longer looks like water as much as just a white blur, he pushes it forward. There's no use blocking it. Before it even reaches me, I can feel myself being pulled toward it.
I'm leaning on the back of my heels, digging in and trying to resist the pull, but my feet are slipping and the cyclone is only getting closer. Soon it's over and I'm sucked inside.
Everything is a wet blur as I spin around and around, quickly losing my bearings. Beyond the mist of the turning water, I briefly see a glimpse of what I'm waiting for. The overhead florescent light glints off the steel blade of Nathanial's sword as it rushes toward me. I can only assume that Nathanial is on the other end of it since I can't actually see him.
I estimate the speed he's running at based on the split second glimpse I get of the blade, and right when I think Nathanial is only feet away, I launch straight up into the air as hard as I can. I know that with the cyclone pulling at me, I'll have to give it my all if I have any hope of escaping before Nathanial's blade finds my neck.
At first it feels like I'm not even moving at all; then suddenly the cyclone loses its grip on me and I'm moving fast. There's not enough room or time to stop, and once again I find the top of my head acting as an impact brake, this time using the ceiling to stop. There's a loud thud from the two nearly invulnerable objects, the ceiling and my head, colliding into each other. The violent clash nearly knocks me out cold, and I collapse straight back down to the floor. The cyclone is disappearing. Water is everywhere, the result of Nathanial's blade slicing through the funnel, disrupting the natural vacuum and causing the cyclone to collapse.
I land with a splash and try to pull myself back onto my feet, but I can't even get my hands to cooperate with me, let alone entire limbs.
It's one of the biggest reliefs in my life when I hear the computerized voice say, "Training Sequence Complete." Was there an emergency shutoff?
"Dammit!" Nathaniel yells in frustration.
Calvin is on his back, panting to catch his breath, no doubt drained of a lot of his energy after the cyclone was destroyed. And behind me on the ground, just as I'd hoped, is the top of the box, cleanly severed from the base.
"Well done, Mr. Connelly," Michelle says into a microphone in the observation booth. "Very clever move to use your adversaries’ own attacks to gain the outcome you desired. I have every faith that you will pass this training scenario with flying colors one day."
"One day?" I say in between gasps. "I just opened your box. I finished the task."
"Indeed you did, Connor, and that is no small feat. However, you forgot about the most important part of the exercise, and the one you were told was given priority over everything else."
Michelle clicks off the microphone and gestures for me to turn my attention to the back of the room. There I see what she's referring to: the dummy with the knife stuck into its head.
"But that's not fair. He threw that knife before you even gave the command to start."
"And you think your enemies are going to play by the rules? Maybe you can tell the next grieving family member you're very sorry their loved one is dead, but the bad guy didn't play fair, so it's not your fault. I'm sure they'll understand," Nathaniel says.
I really wish that I had tried to take Nathanial down first now. It wouldn't have helped me finish the exercise successfully, but it sure would have felt good.
"Unfortunately, he's right, Connor. Don't worry, though. We'll have plenty of chances to run the simulation again," Michelle says.
"So I take it you're mad about the way the exercise went?" Michelle asks.
I'm up in the observation room with her. She's asked me to come up here to discuss my performance and any questions I might have.
"No, I'm not mad. I'm frustrated. You told me there were rules here, so I tried to follow them."
"Like how you followed the rules the other night and used your powers on campus?"
I don't respond.
"If you're going to break the rules around here, don't be surprised if we do it right back at you, Connor. We're trying to prepare you for the real world out there, whether it's fair or not."
"But I've already been out in the real world. I've already had to fight people who don't fight fair. If you had just told me the gloves were off in the first place, I would have known."
I haven't even regained my bearings before I hear, "You son of a-" followed by the sound of something hard hitting flesh. There's a crunch, and then I'm no longer the only one lying on the ground.
Canary Yellow is right next to me, holding his nose as blood gushes out of it and runs down between his fingers.
"Come on," Sarah says, extending her hand out to me to help me off the ground. I take it as I try to shake away the stars floating around my head. She's still holding my hand, using it to hurry me along with her as we leave.
"You might want to get that checked out. I think it's broken, by the way," she yells over her shoulder.
"Thanks for standing up for me back there," Sarah says as we near her door.
"I should be the one thanking you. Where did you learn how to do that?" I ask.
Right after the words come out of my mouth, I realize that the place she most likely learned how to do that was The Agency. But that doesn't make sense. She was a computer tech there for the most part. It doesn't make much sense to train someone with that kinda job how to fight, especially when all the fighting skills in the world aren't going to do much in the face of a pissed-off metahuman who's being locked up.
"My mom," she says while she fumbles with her keys to open her dorm room. "She made me take karate classes when I was a kid. Said I needed to learn how to protect myself. That was before she took off herself, of course."
"Well, whatever the reason was, I'm glad you were there to kick that guy's ass for me," I say.
Sarah gives me the kind of smile that reminds me of how much I miss her everyday.
"Anytime," she says before leaning over and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Don't be such a stranger, okay?"
"I'll try," I reply.
"Goodnight, Connor."
"Goodnight, Sarah."
19
Class the next day, or rather “regular” class the next day feels like a blur. I'm barely able to keep my head off the desk all morning. When I got home last night the party was over, luckily, but the place was more or less trashed. Tyler was passed out on his bed, sleeping on top of the covers with his sneakers still on, but at least I didn't have to deal with him awake. That didn't make pulling the vomit-stained comforter off my bed and sleeping on a bare mattress any more enjoyable, though. At least I made sure he was still alive when I left for class this morning. He should owe me for that one.
The only thing getting me through today is knowing that my tests should finally be over and done with at the facility. That means my training, the actual reason I'm here in the first place, should finally begin. I expect it to be hard. It wouldn't be very valuable training if it wasn't. Even though I'm exhausted, my curiosity about what exactly I'll be doing later today is helping me forget how severely sleep deprived I am.
It takes a lot of restraint not to flat out run to the Blair Building when the final bell rings. Everything about the building is supposed to be about discretion, though. No one runs to after-school study circles, so that means I shouldn't either.
"Hello there, Mr. Connelly," Michelle says when the elevator door opens at the basement level of the facility.
"Hi, Michelle. I was starting to think I'd never actually see you here again," I say.
"You're not that lucky."
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
"I know you're not especially fond of me."
"Why do you think that?"
"You mean besides lying to you and your brother about who I am for months and then bringing you to this new place where you don't know anyone and we run you ragged?"
"Oh yeah, all that stuff. It's fine. Water under the bridge. Honestly, it's just good to see a familiar face."
"I'm glad to hear that. It's good to see you again too."
Michelle waves for me to follow her down the hallway.
"Why were you back in Bay View City? Aren't pretty much all the metas run out of there by now?"
"I was following up on a few potential recruits. Also, Derrick is still my boyfriend, and despite your opinion of me as a cold-hearted liar, I do still have feelings."
"So you missed him?"
"Yes."
We keep walking in awkward silence. I'm not quite sure why it's so hard for Michelle to admit that she likes her boyfriend, but I'm guessing it has something to do with her being undercover so much. It's got to be hard to let people in when your entire life is otherwise full of lies and misdirection. I'm just glad to hear the truth about her feelings for Derrick, even if she's pretty terrible at articulating them. If he hadn’t found Michelle when he did, I was worried that I'd have to start trawling the old folks' homes for him.
"We're going to be in here today," Michelle says as she places her hand on a palm plate to open the door next to it.
Beyond the door is a large room, but I'm used to that by now. What's different about this room is what it's full of: dummies.
There must be a hundred human-sized dummies, standing upright, arranged throughout the room. Another difference with this room is that there's a large glass window overlooking it. Behind the window I can see an array of computer equipment and chairs. There’re already a few people seated in those chairs, typing away so diligently that they hardly even notice Michelle and me as we step into the room.
"This is our Collateral Damage Reduction Simulator. We call it 'CoDRS' for short around here," Michelle says.
"Of course you do. Who doesn't love acronyms?" I ask rhetorically.
"Within this room, we're able to simulate a wide spectrum of disaster scenarios, the purpose of which is to train the metahuman subject in tactics applicable to saving human lives in such situations."
"So I have to save the dummies?"
"More or less, yes."
"Seems straightforward enough."
"It may seem that way, but often it's not. Tell me, what's the biggest distinction between a metahuman like yourself and a metahuman that the general public would consider a menace?"
"I'm not a bad guy?" I ask, not quite sure what she's getting at exactly.
"No, the biggest difference is that you, and as a whole, we, are sensitive to human causalities above all else. It's what separates a metahuman with just good intentions and a hero. It's making the right decisions in the moment, when those choices aren't black and white, but the outcome may potentially affect thousands of lives."
In front of us, a door on the far wall opens. From behind it, Nathanial and Calvin walk out.
"Ah, I didn't know you boys were here already," Michelle says. "Connor, you've already met Nathanial and Calvin."
The pair enter the room, both activating their metabands and corresponding uniforms. Calvin’s is deep blue with metallic silver accents running throughout. Nathanial's is entirely black with only his eyes visible, not unlike a ninja outfit.
"Yeah, we all know each other. So what, we're all training together now?"
"In a way. Nathanial and Calvin will be assisting today, but they will be fighting against you rather than with you. As you know, Calvin is an Elemental with the ability to control water. Nathanial has the ability to create almost any type of weapon imaginable. Their only goal during this exercise will be to escape this room to fight another day."
I materialize my metabands and activate them. Since the other guys are in uniform, there's no reason why I shouldn't be too. So with a thought, the deep-red Omni uniform seeps out from my metabands and wraps around my body. Calvin smirks. I'm not sure if it's because he's excited to see me as Omni or if he's just excited for the fight that's coming.
"All right, boys, before we get too excited here, let's go ahead and take a minute to lower our power output. We don't want anyone getting hurt during training, nor do we want anyone putting a hole through the walls again," Michelle says, directing the last part at Calvin.
"I'm still sorry about that if it helps," he says.
All three of us do as instructed and dampen our powers by dragging a finger across one of our metabands, deactivating a series of blue lights.
"So what's my goal then?" I ask Michelle as I feel my power slowly ratcheting down.
"Your goal, Omni, is very simple. You are to retrieve the item inside this box."
Right on cue, a box about the size of a microwave oven rises up from a previously obscured opening in the floor. I'm starting to think that every surface in this place is hiding something behind it.
"What's inside the box?" I ask.
"It could be stolen valuables, or a weapon, a bomb, or a pair of inactivated metabands. It could be anything, really. Today, it doesn't matter; the box is simply a stand-in for an item in Calvin and Nathanial's possession that you must attempt to retrieve while they do everything they can to stop you. In this particular scenario, they will not be trying to harm civilians unnecessarily, but they are also not required to put any effort into avoiding harming them either, so keep that in mind."
Nathanial cracks his knuckles and Calvin bends his head side to side, loosening his neck.
"Okay then. Are there any final questions before I retire to the observation level so one of you doesn't accidentally splatter me along with these dummies?" Michelle asks.
We all shake our heads. We're ready.
"Good. Then I'll leave you to it. Wait for the countdown before you begin."
Michelle walks through the doorway that Calvin and Nathanial used to enter the room, and it closes behind her. A few seconds later, she appears in the window to the observation deck above the room, and she takes a seat and begins fiddling with some of the controls on the computer in front of her.
"Beginning CoDRS training sequence," a computerized voice booms through unseen speakers hidden somewhere in the walls, "in three, two-"
Before the disembodied voice can say 'one,' some kind of small throwing knife appears in Nathanial's hand. He sees me notice it and, in an instant, flicks it toward me. The knife cuts through the air so quickly that I know immediately I have no hope of dodging it. I might not have had a chance even if my powers were at a hundred percent. The knife tumbles through the air end over end as it flies straight for my head, but right as I flinch to prepare for the impact, something strange happens: it misses.
"Civilian casualty," the computerized voice declares. I turn to look behind me and see that the knife found its true target; it’s wedged right between the eyes of one of the dummies. I turn back to face my sparring partners, and even though the bottom half of his face is obscured by his uniform, I can tell by his eyes that Nathanial is smiling.
"It's going to be like that, huh? All right then," I say right before launching myself head first in Nathanial's direction. My right shoulder slams into his rib cage, and I wrap both arms around his torso tightly, taking him along for the trip. I slam right into the spot where there had been a door only seconds before. The wall holds under the impact, and I can feel something crack inside Nathanial right before I'm thrown in the opposite direction.
I'm starting to choke, my lungs filling up with water. I can't see or hear anything over the sound of thousands of gallons of water hitting me at high pressure. I don't need to be able to see or hear to know that it's Calvin attacking me. Without looking, I fly straight up into the air. The torrent of water follows me, but not quickly enough to stop me from getting a good look at the current situation. Nathanial is slowly working his way back up to his feet as Calvin stands in the center of the room, focusing his efforts on trying to keep me grounded.
I have to think. Nathanial and Calvin both must have weaknesses that I can exploit. Calvin is the more immediate threat, or at the very least, annoyance. I can't concentrate on how to open up that box when I've got water being blasted in my face. The pressure and speed of the water is so high that it's almost solid. That's when it occurs to me what Calvin's weakness might be.
It's been a while since I've had to use the ability, which will make it a little harder to control. I block the hurricane of water with my hands to try concentrating for a second. With my eyes closed I can hear the first tiny crackling noise from inside the jet stream of liquid.
It's working.
I double down on concentrating, focusing all of my energy at the water. There's a sudden loud pop, and when I open my eyes, I can see it worked.
I froze it all, starting with the water that had been hitting me and then all the way down the line until it reached the end. Calvin's arms are almost completely encased in solid ice, all the way up to his shoulders.
Nathanial's turn. He's already running toward Calvin to break him out. I use the opportunity to fly at the box set up in the middle of the room, hoping that the impact will be enough to break it open.
Instead, I find myself sprawled out on the ground, my head throbbing with pain from where it smashed into the stationary box. I look up and see that the box is still there, completely intact. Smashing it probably wasn't a good idea in the first place since I don't know what's in it or if it’s volatile, but I wasn't thinking about it in the moment. In the moment I saw an opportunity and took it with my now very sore head.
I look over toward Calvin, half expecting to see him laughing at me, but his attention is on Nathanial. Nathanial is standing in front of him, conjuring a large broadsword in his hands. As soon as the sword materializes, he brings it down with all his strength, right into the ice currently restricting Calvin's arms. The ice shatters like it were made of glass, and Calvin is free again. The two turn their attention back toward me, which is exactly what I want.
Calvin is first. Having learned his lesson about getting too close to me, he hangs back and uses his ability to create something made from water that he doesn't have to be in physical contact with to control: a water cyclone. The cyclone is small, maybe only ten feet high, but it is spinning with an intensity you would never see in nature. Once it ramps up to a speed where it no longer looks like water as much as just a white blur, he pushes it forward. There's no use blocking it. Before it even reaches me, I can feel myself being pulled toward it.
I'm leaning on the back of my heels, digging in and trying to resist the pull, but my feet are slipping and the cyclone is only getting closer. Soon it's over and I'm sucked inside.
Everything is a wet blur as I spin around and around, quickly losing my bearings. Beyond the mist of the turning water, I briefly see a glimpse of what I'm waiting for. The overhead florescent light glints off the steel blade of Nathanial's sword as it rushes toward me. I can only assume that Nathanial is on the other end of it since I can't actually see him.
I estimate the speed he's running at based on the split second glimpse I get of the blade, and right when I think Nathanial is only feet away, I launch straight up into the air as hard as I can. I know that with the cyclone pulling at me, I'll have to give it my all if I have any hope of escaping before Nathanial's blade finds my neck.
At first it feels like I'm not even moving at all; then suddenly the cyclone loses its grip on me and I'm moving fast. There's not enough room or time to stop, and once again I find the top of my head acting as an impact brake, this time using the ceiling to stop. There's a loud thud from the two nearly invulnerable objects, the ceiling and my head, colliding into each other. The violent clash nearly knocks me out cold, and I collapse straight back down to the floor. The cyclone is disappearing. Water is everywhere, the result of Nathanial's blade slicing through the funnel, disrupting the natural vacuum and causing the cyclone to collapse.
I land with a splash and try to pull myself back onto my feet, but I can't even get my hands to cooperate with me, let alone entire limbs.
It's one of the biggest reliefs in my life when I hear the computerized voice say, "Training Sequence Complete." Was there an emergency shutoff?
"Dammit!" Nathaniel yells in frustration.
Calvin is on his back, panting to catch his breath, no doubt drained of a lot of his energy after the cyclone was destroyed. And behind me on the ground, just as I'd hoped, is the top of the box, cleanly severed from the base.
"Well done, Mr. Connelly," Michelle says into a microphone in the observation booth. "Very clever move to use your adversaries’ own attacks to gain the outcome you desired. I have every faith that you will pass this training scenario with flying colors one day."
"One day?" I say in between gasps. "I just opened your box. I finished the task."
"Indeed you did, Connor, and that is no small feat. However, you forgot about the most important part of the exercise, and the one you were told was given priority over everything else."
Michelle clicks off the microphone and gestures for me to turn my attention to the back of the room. There I see what she's referring to: the dummy with the knife stuck into its head.
"But that's not fair. He threw that knife before you even gave the command to start."
"And you think your enemies are going to play by the rules? Maybe you can tell the next grieving family member you're very sorry their loved one is dead, but the bad guy didn't play fair, so it's not your fault. I'm sure they'll understand," Nathaniel says.
I really wish that I had tried to take Nathanial down first now. It wouldn't have helped me finish the exercise successfully, but it sure would have felt good.
"Unfortunately, he's right, Connor. Don't worry, though. We'll have plenty of chances to run the simulation again," Michelle says.
"So I take it you're mad about the way the exercise went?" Michelle asks.
I'm up in the observation room with her. She's asked me to come up here to discuss my performance and any questions I might have.
"No, I'm not mad. I'm frustrated. You told me there were rules here, so I tried to follow them."
"Like how you followed the rules the other night and used your powers on campus?"
I don't respond.
"If you're going to break the rules around here, don't be surprised if we do it right back at you, Connor. We're trying to prepare you for the real world out there, whether it's fair or not."
"But I've already been out in the real world. I've already had to fight people who don't fight fair. If you had just told me the gloves were off in the first place, I would have known."
