Episode 5: When the Knights Go Marching In

Director Swan Having turned his limiter up to it's maximum effectiveness so he wasn't distracted, Jason stood by the other exam markers as watched the goings on over the harbour. He eyed each students moves carefully, jotting down every ingenuous use of their powers to resolve an issue, how they worked as a team, every time they held off using their powers when they weren't needed, every potentially dangerous move they made. These were all important, every move said something about the students and their progress, every action showed signs of their level of control, reliance, and judgement of their powers, and every action would count towards their final grade.

There was quite a commotion in the surrounding area considering this was an exam, it had an atmosphere more akin to a parent and child sports day than an official government funded assessment. He could only thank some unknown force that there wasn't banners and streamers hanging around the facility... But of course the appearance of the events held no real merit. An obstacle course requiring teamwork was the perfect way to place some strain on their abilities without putting them into any real danger.

"Hmm... unique, but maybe not in a good way..." Jason muttered under his breath as a student cleared an obstacle with a seemingly over the top fashion. That hadn't been a solitary occurrence, a fair number of students seemed to have taken to showing off their powers in front of their peers. Understandable given their young minds and their want to impress each other... But that was not what powers were for, and in the real world that could land you in trouble.

Jason kept his eyes fixed to the course and the students currently making their way through it as he took mouthful of coffee from a slightly too small paper cup. Things seemed to be progressing fairly smoothly. There were of course teething problems. A few students seemed to be taking too much time to move through the course, causing a bit of a crowd to develop on the floats. It was understandable that not every student would progress at the same pace, but that's where teamwork came in.

Jotting down some more notes on which teams were efficiently working together or not, Swan continued his observations and thought back to his own training as a Commonwealth agent. Knowing your squads strengths and weaknesses was your first step on the path to a successful operation, and that meant trusting each other. It was clear a good number of students had not divulged the ins and outs of their abilities before they set out onto the course. Conversations, or indeed arguments, half way through the obstacles showed that clearly, as group members drip fed each other details that should have been out in the open from the get go. In the real world things wouldn't be so easy, Blue Cards could end up working together to take down a mutual target or to resolve a hazardous rescue situation, and that meant knowing the abilities of numerous people on the Blue Card database for your area. Some of those Blue Cards may never cross paths in the field at all for the entirety of their careers, but that didn't matter, there was stall a chance. Knowing what those around you are capable of is just as important as knowing your own abilities, preparation would never fail you.

"Too... slow... Oh, maybe not?" Jason muttered some more before flipping the page of his notebook and starting a new line.

Director Swan Finishing the last gulp of his disappointing coffee, Swan half scrunched the paper cup in his weathered hands before tossing it into a nearby bag stretched inside a cardboard box, one of the many makeshift bins scattered around the exam area. There was something about events like this, the coffee and tea was always the same, always lukewarm and slightly off tasting. It wasn't ever bad enough to not drink though. Jason scowled slightly eyeing up the refreshments table and the large silver urn of hot water, then shook his head. One was enough.

The crowds bustled on as the exam came into it's final stages. Only a few teams remained on the course, the stragglers struggling to get through it, the last runners on the schedule, and a few late comers. It wasn't until she mentioned him by name that Jason even noticed Imogen was around, he jumped slightly as his attention snapped from the course to the woman standing close by.

"Oh! Imogen, yes. Sorry I think I may have had my limiter dialled up a little too high.. Feels like I've had earplugs in for hours." he laughed, brushing his fingers through his tarnished silver hair in a motion of light embarrassment. It wasn't often someone could sneak up on Swan, Maybe it was Imogen's more reserved nature compared to the other facility members, but taking the most probable explanation of his limiter, Swan reached to his wristwatch and adjusted its settings slightly, allowing more ambient noise from his surroundings to reach his ears.

"Not a problem. Once everything here is dealt with I'd be more than happy to talk. Is it official or personal?" he added, closing his notebook over and slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Looking back at the water urn at the refreshments area, Jason's mind flipped back to coffee momentarily. If it was business talk then more coffee would go well, if not then there was a nice selection of whiskeys in his office that could calm the nerves of a more personal discussion.

Swan turned his eyes back towards Imogen as he focused on her once more. Her looks never failed to catch him slightly off guard. In his head Jason knew she was older than she appeared, yet it always took him a split second to remember so. Her youthful looks could be considered a blessing by many, but knowing she would perhaps look so young for what could be potentially countless years would surely come with a heavy price. Timeworn features often came with connotations of wisdom, but looking so young forever, that could doom someone to an eternity of condescending and patronising words.

Lucas sat up, blinking, and wiped his eye clear. Looming nearby was a hulking robotic figure, which triggered a deep sense memory for him. He scrabbled backward, towards the fence-line seeking escape. Something deep in his primitive simian brain gibbered in horror at the sight of the thing, and he was on the point of doing something rash when it registered that the thing's stance was not threatening. It was, more or less, humanoid and it did not have the expected multiplicity of razor sharp appendages, nor was it shouting in french (or indeed, at all) about how it was going to end all organic life. It seemed, in fact, quite solicitous. Lucas swallowed hard, summoning back his courage, but continued to crab walk backward.
“I appreciate your concern, metal man, but in my experience, electronics don't do too well near me, so unless you are hardened against EM surges, please to keep your distance, ok? I am Lucas. I remember that name, now that you say it. I think I used to go to this school? Do you know me?”

Location: Near the food tent.
Nearby: The Brahns.
Mood: Quaking in boots, but with a pretty good poker face, thanks to Anneliese.
@s welian Zahzi B Bag o Fruit

Aaron walked away from the two straggler teams without looking back. He had found that it was better to trust that students would do as you said than to give them the hairy eyeball until they did. Adolescents especially would usually do as asked if you didn't pressure them too much. Give them space to rebel, to give you the finger to your back, and they would be satisfied that they had won the encounter. Then they would do as you asked. By the same token, if you rode them too hard and too closely, they would rebel in more meaningful ways, perhaps even escalating the confrontation. Which was never good, especially where superpowers were involved. So he resisted the urge to look back and plodded over toward the snack tent. He wasn't hungry, but he still liked the smell of brewing coffee. Even bad coffee. Halfway there, he caught sight of Morgan, still no closer than he had been during their last chat. “Goddamnit.” he muttered. He started to redirect his path towards the boy when he realized what had held him up.

Mrs. Brahn.

“Ah, fuck...”

To say he didn't hesitate would be to taste a lie, but he knew in his heart he would be many days and nights reliving this moment if he didn't face up to it now. Those boys needed help, if ever they were going to cut the apron strings. He took a deep breath and tried to stifle the adrenaline spike. He was quite certain the Brahn mother could smell fear. “Oyoiyoi... 'I must not fear...' Right. Well, Paul never had to do Parent Teacher Conferences with an alleged war criminal now did he?” Nonetheless, the quote made him feel better, and he turned toward the conflict and continued walking with barely a noticeable drag in his steps.

“Hello, Mrs. Brahn. Mr. Brahn... boys. I must say, I am all for family involvement, but do you realize it has been nearly an hour since the course started? Why don't we send the boys on ahead and you can address any lingering concerns about the organization of the day with me, hm? How does that grab you?”

Tony, trailed by Piper, entered the parking lot through the side gate and spotted a familiar figure leaning against the hood of his car. Almost under his breath he muttered, “Fuck, now what?!” To Piper, he said quietly, “That's my cousin, Joey. FYI, he's a super. Meta-charismatic. Basically means he is naturally charming to anyone he meets. So be suspicious of any good feelings around him, yeah?” He took a slightly circuitous route to the car to approach from an unexpected direction. Anything to put cousin Joey on the back foot...To be fair, he thought, Joey was basically all right. Way less of a dog than he'd have been with a similar power set, to be honest. It was probably at least partly just basic familial rivalry that stood between them. Nonetheless, the fact remained: He and Joey had never got on. Not since they were kids. As he approached he tried to read the lines of the older man's stance. He seemed tense, but it was hard to tell. While they were both good at reading other people, their powers always seemed to interfere. Which might also have had something to do with their default animosity. His mind flickered through various unlikely scenarios as to what had brought Joey to 108 today, but there were really only two main options: Either there was trouble with the family, or there was trouble with the Q.

“Trouble with the pipes?” He asked as he came into conversational range.

Joey swung around, beaming his infuriatingly genuine smile. “Anthony! Good to see you. You know, you're the second person to ask me that today? You'd almost think it was a pass phrase. But you wouldn't do something as dumb as trotting that out in front of a guest now would you? Not a quick thinker like you?” He turned his radiant charm like a spotlight on Piper. “Now who might you be?”

“Nevermind her... what do you want, Joey... Why are you... here?” Tony's voice sounded thick and heavy in his own ears. His thoughts, normally as quick as lightning felt like sludge churning in a waste treatment facility. Joey's eyes captivated him. What the fuck was happening here?

“Anthony. Dear cousin, don't struggle. We have important things to discuss you and I. Get in the passenger seat. I'll drive, you're clearly in no condition. Mmm. And you... don't tell me, I am keen to guess. Piper? Piper Farrar. Student photographer? Big fan of supers? Mmm mm. You truly do belong here at 108 among the gods. For what are gods without worshippers? Nothing, that's what. Will you come with us Little Piper? Pied Piper? I have unearthed some things you might like todocument. Things that could move even the gods. Will you come with us and see?”

He took the keys from Tony as the later stumbled around to the passenger side in a haze. Joey opened up the rear door for Piper with a sweeping gesture of old school gentility. He bowed low, and then looked up, holding her eyes with a piercing gaze.

Only Piper's eyes gave away any trepidation. They had widened with fear, but then her chin set resolutely and her eyes narrowed again. To anyone watching from further away than 'Joey' she seemed to calmly climb into the back seat and buckle her seat belt.

Joey carefully shut the door and squeezed in behind the driver's wheel. As his passengers faded into a stupor, he murmured “There now. That's a good beginning.”

Slowly and purposefully, he wheeled the car around, pulled out of the lot and a few moments later, they were gone.

Once Miia finally calmed down and everybody had a group hug, even Kendrick --that despite being a bit awkward and uncomfortable with it at first, quickly warmed up to the idea and enjoyed it--, the team sort of settled into a groove. Using some vines from Albert’s makeshift jungle, they departed for the second obstacle with Manami towing Miia like a kite behind her while Sam and Kendrick sort of hydroplaned along the waves. Kendrick got a little wet, but was way too focused with not losing his balance and plummeting down into the water to his doom to mention it.

The vines came in very handy at the second obstacle as well. Miia flew up to the top of the first hill and tied them off so that the others could climb up. Sam zipped down the other side and grabbed the two ‘rescue’ dummies, but then the vines snapped and she couldn’t get traction to get back up. The panic due to the occurrence prompted the others to act fast and they decided to form a human chain to reach her. Compared to their time on the first obstacle, the second was a dramatic improvement, and their teamwork score went way up.

Getting to the third obstacle looked to be a problem. Without the vines, Manami would have to carry them each individually or in a big awkward jumble, which both Sam and Miia adamantly refused. The wait for a boat was ridiculous, and the individual ferrying was not likely to be much faster, fast though Manami was. It was starting to look like another argument was about to break out when Mary finally showed up. Suddenly the transit time was zero. And there was much rejoicing...

For the third obstacle, Miia proved her worth. Sam and Mary had little to no problem. Sam was far too quick to even register the changing height of the levels, and whenever a level tried to drop Mary or buck her upward unexpectedly, she would just drop into a portal (or pop up through one) that would deposit her on the next tile. The changes were too rapid for her to do the same for Kendrick and Manami however. The rules did not allow for skipping tiles and they were not graceful enough to keep pace with Mary and kept tripping over the edge of portals. Manami in particular was very clumsy at this and became frustrated, trying to insist that the others go on without her. Kendrick instantly protested against the idea and Miia was having none of that.

“Fish girl,” she had said, “Nobody is leaving anybody behind! You gave me a hug when I needed one, and even if it did make me smell like low tide, I won’t ever forget that! Take my hand.” After a moment looking down her nose at Kendrick, she added “Bull-horn, you’re a tool. But Fish-girl seems to like you. So take my other hand.” Instead of being annoyed by the not so flattering nickname, a mix of surprise then admiration towards the girl painted the boy’s expression and he took her hand with a decided and approving nod. While she lacked the raw power to fly them across, Miia was perfectly capable of redirecting their velocity toward the next tile each time they stumbled. They may not have crossed as quickly as Sam, or as easily as Mary, but they did it together, and by the end of it, they were all laughing. Even Kendrick couldn’t help but chuckle at Manami’s squeals of delight at “Feeling like what a butterfly is feeling like!”

The fourth obstacle was the toughest by far. After three aborted attempts at just brute forcing their way through, they got clever. Sam sped through, touching all the green balls on the first pass and getting all the gray ones to chase her. Then, by speeding back and forth she managed to get the gray ones all more or less in a line so that Miia could repeat her trick from the previous obstacle getting the two less graceful team members across. This of course resulted in all the green balls chasing them to the end in a big mob, which cleared the way for Mary and Sam to speed bounce their way across the line before it dissipated. This inevitably led to them running headlong into a tidal wave of green balls just before they reached the end, but Mary had anticipated that and shielded them with a split second timed portal that sent the green balls back to the start of the course. And there were high fives all around.

The kinetic tangler cords in the fifth obstacle proved to be a real challenge for Mary and Sam. Sam found out the hard way that the faster you go, the more vigorously the bindings wrap you. It took Manami and Kendrick working together almost 7 minutes to get her free. Mary found her portals all but useless as the cords tied them open and then clogged them so she couldn’t close them again. Unable to close the first portal, she was unable to open another. At first she thought she was going to be stuck unable to use any portals for the rest of the course.
Here, Manami stepped in to save the day. She found if she moved slowly, she could tear the cords in half after giving them a bit of a slice with her stingers. At first this seemed to be making things worse as more and more tangle cords attacked, but the more they moved in the angrier Manami got and by the time the portal was clear enough to close, the cords seemed reluctant to approach her at all as long as she walked. Near the far side, they started to close in again, but she growled and bared her teeth at them and they retreated. Everyone was thoroughly impressed and surprised.

The mattress run was a hoot. They actually got in a water fight and still made it across in record time. Mary used portals to redirect geysers into Manami who angled her hands to spray it onto Miia who used her powers to turn it into a harmless sprinkler spray. Kendrick, ever the meticulous one, threw his phone into the holes for airbags and set them off. If it broke, he would get a new one anyway, whether he wanted it or not. Surprisingly enough, his Iphone did not have a single scratch afterwards. The surface now slicked down with the leg grabber traps sprung, Sam slid Kendrick across at high speed over his half hearted protests. Mary, Manami and Miia skated after them, with Miia popping triple axles the whole way.

Madhouse took a while to figure out. The anti-gravity field seemed to interfere with Mary’s portals, and utterly flummoxed Sam and Manami, though it was great fun watching them try in vain to swim across the open space. Miia, at first was no help either; her velocity adjustments were to sudden and violent and caused her to spiral out of control. At last, it was Kendrick’s careful and methodical approach that led the way. He showed that gentle pushes followed by holding still while gliding to the next available surface was the proper way to maneuver. He made a mental note to thank his science teacher for all those interminable and seemingly useless lessons about the physics of microgravity in the international space station, including all of the dull videos in the matter.
Once they had mastered the technique, they again formed a human chain with Kendrick in the lead and Miia bringing up the rear to make adjustments if anybody got too far off course. Bouncing across the large balls in the double gravity zone proved a very different challenge. Mary’s portals still wouldn’t work, but eventually they hit upon the idea of teaming Miia with Manami to carry the others across one by one in a double arm sling between them. Manami provided the strength while Miia provided the stability. Again, there was much rejoicing…

On the eighth obstacle they were lucky enough to discover the flypaper effect before anyone got stuck due to Kendrick’s insistence on testing the grounds before anything. In the lack of his toy-friends, since he had assumed his power to not be helpful in a water-course and left his backpack behind, Kendrick decided to detach one of his cuff-links and throw it in the field. He then tried picking it up, very careful to not touch the tile himself, discovering an increased difficulty over the action. In another stroke of luck, it was Manami who was launched clear off of the obstacle and into the bay by their first encounter with the power of the blue tiles. She swam back and after that they had no further trouble.

The only real difficulty of note on the penultimate obstacle was that there were only four chambers with five on the team. Sam made an offhand comment about how Manami and Kendrick should be the ones to share a cubby. “Since they were so close and all.” Miia seconded that and Mary opened a portal back to the property tent to grab her phone ‘to snap a picture of the happy couple'. Kendrick turned beat red and stayed so the entire time, but said nothing. Manami seemed utterly oblivious to any of the joshing.

The last obstacle had a design flaw which they quickly exploited: there was no lip at the foot of the stairs! This allowed Manami to dive down about 10 feet with each teammate before rocketing up onto the stairs like a trained seal punting a soccer ball. Kendrick was a bit apprehensive about the idea at first, but having just trusted Manami to get him into the obstacle course earlier, he soon found it very very easy to do so again. This gave each of them enough speed to slide up the stairs with the assistance of the soapy residue once the other four were over the top, Manami followed, and just like that, they were done.

Aaron braced himself for impact, figuratively speaking. Literal impacts were of no concern to him, but he knew from experience that Mrs. Brahn didn’t fight fair. After the last PTC however, he figured he was prepared for anything. At least, from her he was. Mr. Brahn, however, took him completely by surprise!

Mrs. Brahn stood up straight, not that it was particularly intimidating, and glared at the blurry man in a way honed by generations of strict parenting.

“I have plenty of concerns, actually. In fact, I’ve created a list.” She pulled out a small moleskin journal, seemingly oblivious to her husband’s crestfallen expression (frankly, she was used to it) and her sons sweating bullets and making themselves scarce (also used to it).

“Jordan, sweetie, be careful out there. Remember, you don’t have to do anything stressful, I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s dangerous. Junior, don’t do anything stupid out there, there are college admissions officers watching. Now, concern number one – why are plainly disabled children being forced to take this test, and what was the previous lawsuit settled for?”

“While it is certainly not my area of expertise, my understanding is the terms of all AEGIS settlements are sealed by the lawyers. In any case I have no idea whatsoever. And I believe the preferred term has been ‘differently abled’ since well before I was born. In Jordan’s case that certainly seems to apply, regardless of one’s feelings about so called ‘politically correct’ language.. He is more than capable of compensating for his physical deficits with his inventive genius. Also, in point of fact, we do not allow college admissions officers on the campus at any time. As I am sure you are well aware...”

Mrs. Brahn scowled. “You are differently abled. All supers are. My son, while more intelligent than you will ever be, is also disabled, and it is not politically incorrect to acknowledge that someone can be extraordinary and yet broken at the same time.”

She jotted something down in her journal, in an incomprehensible script that vaguely resembled the bastard chimera lovechild of shorthand and Hangul. No one would have blamed Aaron for assuming it was pure gibberish designed to scare people into thinking she was taking incriminating notes. Aaron for his part, simply goggled at her casual dismissal of her younger son as ‘broken.’

“Just because you don’t allow admissions officers in an official capacity,” she continued, “doesn’t mean that no one here works in an admissions office. You don’t know anything about me or my husband, I don’t know anything about you, and we don’t know anything about anyone in that crowd. For all we know, someone from Harvard or Cornell could be in the bleachers, watching a relative compete. I wouldn’t want to be remembered for my mistakes, would you?”

“Actually, yes.” As he spoke, Aaron bent his thoughts on Morgan as hard as he could. In the brief pause between words, without so much as glancing toward the boy, he sent a clear message. I’ve got this Morgan, take your brother and go get in a boat. Do your best, and good luck. Aloud, he continued. “History is littered with examples of people who wanted to sweep their mistakes under the rug. We expect our students to do better than that. Their mistakes are meant to be learned from, not hidden. My mistakes are part of my history, and a matter of public record, as well they should be. It is those of us whose mistakes are allowed to remain secret who become corrupted for lack of corrective feedback. Wouldn’t you agree Mr. Brahn? Mistakes make a man who he is, every bit as much as his triumphs. He should acknowledge them. Own them, rather than be owned by them, if you will.”

She rolled her eyes so hard you could practically hear it.

For most of this conversation, Mr. Brahn had just stood back as the inevitable would soon occur. Normally a result of Hunter Ward being within the same zip code, he could already see rage slowly bubbling within his wife. If this kept up, he would need to resort to the time-honored tradition. It wasn’t until Aaron had addressed him about mistakes that he made eye contact with the blur of a man. He had made more mistakes than most people here, and had spent the last thirty years getting past them. He merely looked him up and down and muttered just loud enough for Aaron to hear.
“Black Ice.”
He then reached out and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“Perhaps we should have trust in Mr. Mallory’s word. He IS qualified to deal with these kinds of things. I have faith our boys are in good hands here.”

Aaron thought for a moment he had heard wrongly, until he put the two softly spoken words together with the calculating look in the elder Brahn’s eyes. This was a man who had killed. A man whose reflexive response to social contact was to work out how to kill you, quickly and cleanly. By sharing what he had worked out aloud, he communicated two things to Aaron privately. Firstly, S-rank meant nothing to a man like Gil. Meat was meat. And secondly? That he had used his talents on more dangerous men for less than upsetting his wife. Hoping that Morgan’s limiter shenanigans had protected him from the flavor of these thoughts, he boomed with false joviality “Thank you for your vote of confidence, Mr. Brahn. I am sure the course will go well for both boys. I have every bit as much faith in them as that you put in me.” Barely resisting the urge to glance back to make sure he wasn’t about to be murdered by either parent, he gently bustled the boys off towards the boat docks.

Kate made the line fast and when the rope ladder tumbled down, she braced the bottom of it for Richard to climb. “I think we’re being invited aboard! The ‘Momo-Taro’ eh? I wonder if this is the Hamasaki’s boat? After you, Mr. Chase… I don’t actually need ladders.”

Richard was rather out of his element, but did as he was bidden. At the top, he found a middle aged japanese couple, smiling and beckoning with an odd overhand gesture saying something like ‘Ee ras-shy. Doh zoh! Ee ras-shy ma say.’ Wracking his brains for his ‘business japanese memories he managed to dredge up “Kon-nee Chee-wah” which caused an eruption of laughter from both of his hosts, hidden demurely behind her hand for the lady, and tossed carelessly skyward for the husband.

Once he was safely at the aboard, Kate gave a minimal energy burn and popped up onto the deck of the fishing vessel, somewhat startling all three of the humans there. Kate apologized and Richard attempted to translate. Kate’s Japanese was non-existent, and Richard’s was barely better, but they all understood ‘tea’ well enough, and the Hamasakis understood hospitality in ways that the western world seemed to have forgotten about. The remainder of the afternoon was communicated mostly through pantomime and smiles. Richard tried the odd phrase here or there which never failed to make Mr. Hamasaki roar anew with good natured laughter. They all cheered for Manami, and for Isabelle, both of whom acquitted themselves quite well, and when the event had ended, Mr. Hamasaki came down and helped Richard re-start the engine of the pontoon boat. They motored off toward the docks as the sun was westering. It was not low enough yet for her transition to start, so she still treated Richard as if he were made of spun glass as she came up alongside him and slipped an arm around his waist. He jumped, almost enough to swamp the boat, but righted himself in time and tried to relax, though his heart was pounding as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“I had a fabulous time today, Richard. What would you think about getting dinner? I’d like to meet Isabelle, if it is not too much of an imposition...”

Richard was taken aback by the offer. After a moment of consideration, he cleared his throat trying to shake his nerves. “Have you heard of that new restaurant? The Salted Pig? Izzy’s been begging me to bring her some signature dish from their dessert menu.”

For a moment, LARRY said nothing. He was bewildered, easily the first time that this generation of his programming had been in such a state. The situation defied almost all logic, and yet, here it was. This ‘Lucas’ was in no state to be speaking so casually. Or was he? The specifics of his powers were hard to grasp, especially given this is the second, third, eighth time LARRY had ever read them.

“I am well insulated. The well-being of this shell is of secondary concern when the student at hand is in need of medical attention. I think.”


LARRY did a very brief rundown of the earlier records of the Facility, going back as far as records could for Lucas. While these records gave a small glimpse into who Lucas was, it didn’t help LARRY understand the situation any better.

“I do not know you directly, but records of your attendance at Facility 108 are present. You have been missing for nearly fifteen weeks, mister Lucas. Incomprehensible situations aside, I ask again: Do you require medical attention? I can carry you if needed.”

--
“Fifteen weeks?! Osti du marde! I-- sorry, no, I can walk.” Lucas got to his feet and dusted himself off. “I don’t think i have any injuries that a few hours plugged into a 220 wouldn’t fix. Other than the eye. That, plus a couple of scars, seem to be permanent.”

He paused, trying to think. Up to now, he’d not thought beyond just getting to 108. It seemed he was moving in the right direction; he was known here. There were records. So... now what? Maybe… he should apply for re-admittance?

“Mr. -uh.. Robot? Have you got a name or designation or something I should call you? Also, who should I see about getting my name removed from the ‘missing’ list? Is there a secretary or someone I could talk to?”

--
“LARRY is my locally designated nickname. I believe the person that we should seek out is Ms. Page. I can alter your missing status, but she will be the one doing the process of making you...alive. According to the records. Tracing the footage back shows that she should currently be inside a portable toilet. She was in quite a hurry, perhaps she was not feeling well. Let’s make a half-fast walk over that direction. Unless, you would like to... ‘heal up’ first?”

LARRY stood unmoving the entire time. He simply stared, yellow visor locked onto Lucas. He still struggled to understand, but as he once heard someone say, “always expect the unexpected.” Not that those words actually meant anything to LARRY, seeing as he was certainly not expecting a missing person to re-materialize on Facility grounds, but perhaps that was something beyond the realm of unexpected.

--
Lucas pondered the name, oblivious to LARRY’s stare. Ms… Page. His eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, and then opened again to lock onto the yellow visor. “I remember a Ms. Page I think. Fiery red hair? Bit short with students? I think I might know her. So maybe she knows me? Lead on Mr. LARRY.”

A short walk later found them outside a port-a-potty from which emanated sounds of distress. LARRY was about to pound on the door, but Lucas, in alarm signaled desperately that he would wait. They waited in awkward silence for several minutes. Eventually the door opened. Several beats pass.

Page exited the port-a-potty hoping to leave the mess inside, behind with no witnesses. Suddenly face with the two individuals apparently waiting for her caused her to fidget with her glasses needlessly.

“Uh, Larry. Is there something you needed? I only just arrived. I am really not up to date on today’s events.”

Page’s gaze shifted to the boy with the missing eye. Sadly, she was not one for faces and the fact he was the missing student was lost on her. Which to anyone else would have only added to the awkwardness of the entire encounter.

"Uh, m'am... I'm Lucas M... Marsolet?"

For a moment the name didn't quite register. It was, after all, impossible. But eventually the penny dropped, and she briefly considered going back into the port a potty. But duty called.

Kids coming back from the dead meant a great deal of paperwork…

--
LARRY was at a loss for words. It was a strange day all the way around. So much had happened. He needed to enter rest mode for a bit. He stood there, silently, for a few moments, running through the actions he could take. He struggled to make a good decision. It made him uncomfortable, not being able to make a decision in less than one second.

“Right then. I’ll...leave you to it then. Time to get working on repairing that sidewalk. For what feels like the fourth time this two weeks.”
-

“Mr. Marsolet, we have a lot of paperwork to get started. Not to mention getting ahold of the social security office.”

“Sac a papier…”

Time: 4:30 PM Two hours have passed since the beginning of the exam. The recycling bins and trash cans are full of empty water bottles, old coffee caps, granola bar wrappers, and other complimentary refreshment discardings. Most of the teams have crossed the finish line and are congregating with friends and family. Observing instructors have taken aside individuals to offer praise, concerns, critique, and/or advise for their pupils. Inflatables from the first few obstacles have already been deflated to begin the 'clean up' effort. Another is currently being dragged off the surface of the water so it can be squeezed of excess air and rolled up. Volunteers have begun to pack with the exception of the central tent hub. A few of the senior volunteers are on their phones coordinating with bus drivers the departure times to get students- regardless if they have graduated or not- back to their facilities. An older man with greying hair has started putting large orange cones in the parking lot to help direct traffic when the formalities have ceased. Everyone knows that without direction there will be chaos at the exit. By all accounts it was a successful day. Not everyone has passed, and the official results will be forthcoming soon, but there were no disasters. No participant was seriously injured, no obstacle was outright destroyed, and there was only one hysterical overbearing mother clinging to an official that her baaaaaaaaby was too precious to be held back by his team.

OOC NOTE: Please allow the Knights to post for what happens immediately after the exam's conclusion. You may continue to post collaborations for what has happened in the two-hour time skip window. Knights Tags to help them along: Giyari Lemon Boy The Fuzzy Pixel simj26 Malikai

Laughter, cheering, cries of joy and frustration, all filled the air as Aegis Facility:108 drew their examination to a close. It had been an ordeal for the students involved, a true test of their mettle as they pushed themselves as hard as they safely could to meet their goals. Blood, sweat, and tears were shed as each challenged was faced, overcome, and conquered. It had been an impressive feat for those observing.

"Pack 1 on approach."

Bins were hauled off to the side for collection as new friends gave each other hugs of congratulations and handshakes of rivalries to come, Volunteers and parents gave their praises to those students who still had the energy to listen, and faculty smiled at one another as they seen the last year of hard work and progress unfold.

"Pack 2 in position, perimeter secure…"

As the last of the cones were laid out through the car park, drives fired up the bus engines in preparation for the students arrival. All that was left was a debrief from 108's director, a congratulatory pat on the back through words for the students and volunteers participation, and they were good to go.

"Pack 3, targets in sight… Good to go."

Stepping up to a makeshift podium constructed of some crates and sturdy boxes, Director Swan addressed the crowd before him with pre-prepared speech in hand.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, Students. Today has been a marvelous spectacle to behold! The future of our country and its safety looks bright, and if this is the standard we are going to raise, then I am one proud man to have been a part of creating it..."

"Pack 1 closing... In 3… 2… 1… BREACH!"

"Results will be revealed in due time, but until then I congratulate you all and wish all the best for your future. We at 108 have been proud to-" A smash rung out as a silver car was catapulted across the car park by a large silver semi-truck, the squeal of tires skidding across tarmac gave the soundtrack to the unfolding chaos as orange cones were flung through the air, the car park attendant was now nowhere to be seen, but a smear of red across the semi's bumper was all the clues that were needed.

"Pack 3, carrying out containment… In 3… 2… 1… Weapons are hot, weapons are hot."

Several more cars were flung aside as the semi-truck barreled its way through the parking lot. The wailing of aural alarms from the disturbed vehicles was further interrupted by the crunching of metal and the shattering of glass. Once the semi-truck was clear of the parking lot it lurched and slowed down considerably, but didn’t come to a complete stop. The double doors of its trailer were forced open as eight armed figures jumped out onto the ground one after another.

“Pack 1 deployed,” came the update over the group’s radios as the last of the militants touched down, one of them throwing a single grenade under the waiting busses with a satisfyingly dull thud as the vehicles engines were shredded with shrapnel. Not one of them spared a second glance back at the semi-truck as its wheels spun furiously again. Fanning out as they made their way towards the crowd of teachers, students, and parents Pack 1 continued to their own objective, as did the semi-truck. Several bystanders along the way were beaten down or gunned down. In one particularly brutal case, both.

The chaos erupted in clear view of Pack 3’s scopes, but that was not their main focus. A team of five, equipped with high-magnification scoped rifles, fired in unison. The first salvo was non-lethal, a warning shot. Dirt kicked up at the feet of bystanders, showering them with the grit. Enough to tell them where the bullets were coming from. Those who still tried to brave the bullets would only find themselves earning a 7.62 round straight through the leg. If that wasn’t a clear enough message to scurry back to the center, then nothing else would be. Two other snipers lay prone on the furthest ends of the pack’s vantage point, their fingers on the trigger, but they did not fire. Their rifles were not anti-personnel. These were meant for something with a bigger threat than a bunch of normals. The rightmost sniper had her doubts that 12.7 rounds would even scratch the monsters she hunted, but so long as they flinched, these would do the job.

She inched her head towards her comms. “Pack 3 to all Packs. Containment successful,” She paused for a second, waiting for the current salvo to end, then continued, “but we don’t have infinite ammunition stocks. Don’t dally about.”

“Copy that Pack 1 and 3. Pack 2 to all Packs, drones are moving in and sniper teams are engaging,” Christian said, a tinge of anxiety showing in his tone. His movements were jittery as his hands swooped across the holographic display, tapping buttons and inputting commands as the drones on the building rooftop came to life as his fellow Knights in the rooms opposite of him fired at the crowd to stir chaos at his command. This was his first mission and already he was in command of four of his peers, two snipers and two spotters, carrying out every order given without question. He needed to impress. Typing in the commands at breakneck speeds, all fifteen drones shot upwards and then flew forwards with haste towards the facility. As they arrived at their destination, he could see everything: people scrambling to avoid being shot, the fiends making use of their infernal powers in response to his comrades, the chaos being sown and the blood saturating the ground. It was time to carry out justice.

“Drones engaging now Pack 1 & 3. Five are en route to the clinic to run interference and to prepare some presents for any of these beasts if they try to hide it out or help themselves. The other ten will assist in neutralization and pacification. Relaying feeds of the five drones to you...now. In the meantime, feel free to appreciate my music taste,” He said with a chuckle, his nerves calming considerably.

Activating the loudspeakers on the ten drones, a blare of distorted choir music emanated from the drones as they hovered high above the crowd, firing large hooked nets towards those that clustered together or shooting at strays with electric stun guns. Whilst those ones worked their magic, the other five delved into the small building on campus: the clinic. Entering their land configuration, the drones made quick work of the nurse hiding behind the counter, stunning her.

“Nurse taken care of. If you see any strays running to the clinic, let’em.”
Saying that, Christian began his work filling the building with an assortment of traps.

Ignoring the growing urge to shoot at the nearest flying choir-bot with an annoyed growl Ushi shook his head beneath his helmet. ‘If those damn things get another church song stuck in my head again,’ his thoughts silently complained as he pulled the trigger on his shotgun. A rubber slug erupted from the barrel to peg a random middle-aged man trying to flee past the sparse line of terrorists. He went down hard with a pained cry, but Ushi paid him no more attention after shortly assessing him.

A loud crash back towards the parking lot sounded off as the semi-truck plowed into the corner of the main building after regaining its momentum. The squealing of metal against the brick wall was distinct from the gunfire and screams. Even more unmistakable was the roar of the explosion after the truck continued on into the car park and the charges in their truck bomb were activated. Smoke billowed from the damage vehicles as debris rained down for several seconds after.

Unconcerned with the blast Ushi snatched a tear gas grenade from his vest before yanking out its pin with the pinky of his other hand as it cradled his shotgun. Then off into the air the grenade went! A plume of thick visible gas already started to stream from one end of the device before it even hit the ground. A second grenade was thrown out towards the crowd before the man resumed his business in the growing haze. He made no discrimination about who to shoot. Anyone that wasn’t a Knight and got near him was fair game. As he reloaded the drum magazine of his shotgun he stopped to put his boot down on the back of a prone female civilian who had slowly been trying to get back up. His eyes were on the crowd, though; head on a swivel he scanned for potential threats.

Stepping forward from the chaos a single Knight spoke out, but not before firing upon a straying individual trying to make their way towards the water, dropping the poor man like a stone. Laughing aloud she raised her rifle once more and addressed the crowd.

"We are the Knights of Raguel, and you have all been judged guilty by our lord! Prepare to accept your punishment! Don't try to fight it, it will only make me enjoy it more..."

Location: Main building
Nearby: Uncertain. Ms. Morgan, probably. Red, maybe. Perhaps Anneliese.
Mood: Startled --> Furious, but wary...
@s B Bag o Fruit Zahzi ManicMuse

Lucas furrowed his brow, concentrating. Paperwork for rescinding a death certificate had a lot of fiddly little details, and thinking seemed harder than it used to be. Ms. Morgan had been kind enough to go back to her office and look up his home address in the archives, as he could not for the life of him remember where his mother's house was located. Hopefully it had not already been sold out from under him...

He was trying to determine if he counted as 'person making final arrangements' or not when he was startled by a crash from outside, and the sound of a powerful combustion engine at redline. He had just stepped away from stack of forms the reception desk to peek out the front door, when another screeching crash came from just out of his line of sight. A split-second later, a semi-truck went roaring past, seemingly inches from the front door. Lucas stumbled backwards, but kept his feet. As the truck crashed through the fence and crossed the street to the parking lot, time seemed to slow down and he had a terrible premonition of what was about to happen.

He was already in the air, diving for cover behind the reception desk when the blast wave hit the building. He was pretty sure he could make out individual slivers of glass rushing past him for a moment as he fell, but then his eyes squinched shut and his arms protectively covered his face, so he couldn't be sure. As he landed heavily behind the desk, time skipped back to full speed again. He was covered in broken glass, as well as numerous superficial cuts and one deep gash on his left calf. Instinctively, he reached for the electrical outlet under the desk and pulled the plug part way out. Relieved to find there was still power, he let the current wash over him, causing his cuts to clot and scab over at an accelerated rate. His calf was still throbbing, but he was impatient to find out what was going on, so he allowed himself to slip into the current for a moment before he spat out again in a different room. He felt pretty sure he was still in the same building. For one thing, there was glass on the floor here as well. For another...

Well for another, this room felt weirdly familiar. He flushed with embarrassment, a sense memory prodding at him to remember. There had been giggling. A kind teacher... It slipped away from him, and he let it go. He peeked up from behind the desk. It seemed to be a classroom. It was empty, apart from some boxes waiting to be unpacked. The window to outside was open, and the bars on it had been bent outward, rather than inward by the blast. Carefully avoiding the glass, he crawled over and peered over the sill. There were goons with guns shouting. Rounding people up. Herding them together. He scowled. Paperwork might have left him floundering, but goons with guns, he knew just how to handle. And the first step, he thought, was assembling allies. He reached for the outlet, and the classroom was empty again.

Jeremiah milled around the crowd, his mind blaring signals at him. For whatever reason he had started to get pulses of light blaring in his head after he had turned down his limiter, it was enough to make him a bit more dazed than he normally was. In fact, in combination with him already being a bit tired usually this was a pretty terrible thing to be dealing with. Shaking his head it took a minute for the lights to finally fade away, Jeremiah noticed that sweat was dripping down his brow, What was making my head pulse so badly? Just as Jeremiah began thinking about this he heard a loud sound coming from the direction of the parking lot.

Jeremiah turned to face the direction that the sound had come from, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to see over the crowd. Just as he was trying to stand on the tips of his toes to hopefully get a sense of what had happened he heard a loud sound coming from the other side of the crowd, it didn't take long to figure that somebody was shooting at them. The specifics of course Jeremiah didn't know since the closest he had ever been to a gun was a few rough cases in the alleys of Baltimore. While on-guard from the other side's attack he was able to pick up quickly that something would likely attack the side of the crowd he was at and so he quickly drew as much light into a miniature shield in front of him and a few people that were straggling off from the crowd.

Only that didn't happen. Instead of a shield coming out from his hands a powerful blast of light that worked like a flash bang went off in his face. Thanks to him dealing with the pulses of light he had just experienced it wasn't enough to send him down to the ground or reeling for the next few minutes, but it was just long enough to miss the drones that flew over his head and into the crowd. Jeremiah was still trying to get the light out of his eyes when he heard the sound of a drone close nearby. As he watched the drone, unsure if he should do anything, he watched as the drone prepped a net into it's launcher. It's aim was directed toward one of the many civilians that had shown up today.

The minute Jeremiah saw this all rational thought went out the window. Completely ignoring the fact that his powers had just backfired on him, and the fact that he was about another tick from losing his cool, h felt the need to do something to defend the woman. Jeremiah drew a sneer onto his face. With one of his eyes closed, still recovering from the blast of light, he pointed his hand forward, fingers outstretched, aiming directly for the nearest drone, "Take this!" He shouted right before letting out a solidified light spear, although it looked less like a spear and more like a circular rod with a spike, that aimed to embed itself directly into the drone, Wait, did I just say, 'Take this!'? Why didn't I say something like, 'Light Spear!' or, 'Spear of Justice!' or literally anything that would have been slightly more nizza than what I actually said. Jeremiah faltered in keeping up his sneer as he watched his spear fly through the air.

LARRY, GROUNDSKEEPER AND OBSERVER
Where: Back of the Facility, a few hundred feet from the crowd.
Thoughts: ,exp}i5c+?is=r1lisno?+like!simul,ns4 ,i'v5ev}ev5_hasimul,ncloseto?isk9d(ev5tanyways4 ,,ican,'',,tev5getmore?anafew?"|s9p}macrosecondwtf
With: Far too many to list individually.

LARRY's mind was racing. It had never had so many conflicts arise at once. The AI had gone through hundreds, thousands of simulations, with over fifty physical replications, but nothing of this scale. At best, this variation of LARRY's AI was more suited towards a bodyguard. A militarized, multi-group version of it would be responding much better. LARRY was acting too human. So many conflicts, with no clear solutions, leads to a stress loop. More and more conflicts were being compiled, and the AI struggled with solution handling, processing, and new data constantly flowing in. His thoughts slowed to a crawl. His internal cores were close to bursting to flames. The mechanical shell stood perfectly still in a storage building at the back of the Facility.

The observers overseas were quick to respond. The solution to the issue was simple: just prevent LARRY from trying to resolve conflicts through anything but the most minimal of though. In layman's terms, 'trusting your gut.' After a brief delay, LARRY seemed to snap back to reality. He looked to his left and right rapidly, as if he had just rebooted. Which, in essence, he did. He took a few moments to weigh his options. There was no plausible solution that prevented any more loss. He could stay where he was, and likely remain mostly untouched, perhaps even undetected...but that would be no good. The overseers would also like the data, to make improvements to both the AI and the shell. Hopefully they were already started on the former. Going outside was almost guaranteed 'suicide,' but that was the only viable thing to do. He couldn't die anyways; he'd just be put back into another shell after being scraped out of cyberspace. He didn’t fear dying. Did he?

There was no time to question the philosophies relating to robotic death. The time had come for action. Hopefully he could manage to do something before being stopped. He looked around the room for something, anything, that could be used as a throwing weapon. His findings were disappointing, to say the least. He rolled a chunk of cement in his hand before deciding that would be his one-use weapon. Without a moment more of hesitation, he burst out the door to the storage building, coming full-sprint at the nearest Knight. While charging, he loosed the chunk of cement, aiming straight for a Knight’s head.

(I’m not sure who the nearest Knight would be; bicker amongst yourselves for the honor of possibly being hit in the head by a rock.)

...And the stupid exam had finally ended!
Well, that was a half-truth. it actually hadn't been as annoying and pointless as it had appeared to be. Nah, some parts were indeed incredibly frustrating, but! Then others had some fun to it, which could the boiled down to, Juliana got to show off and was extremely pleased with that fact.

But again, the exam had ended and as soon as Team Six was back on land, the Brazilian had dragged Mitch around to show her where her poor cellphone was being held hostage. The reencounter was filled with relief, happy tears and lots, lots of screen swiping. Alas, the natural order of the world had been restored!

From there on, the teenager tried to catch up with the multiple dashboards, histories, snaps, SMS's and whatnot that she had missed in the last hour or so: First order of business was to tweet to her followers that everything was fine and they didn't need to call the police after all. Second order of business... Tumblr? Facebook? Snapchat? Maybe Insta? Oh wait, Eryk responded too! Wahhh there's so much to do now...!
She mindlessly followed the crowd towards... somewhere, --Where were they going? Was someone doing an announcement?--, never once taking her gaze out of the device. If someone was complaining about it, she paid them no attention, soon they'd be free to go home, and Jú would be able take to have a well-needed shower and finally relax...

...Or so she had thought.

A car was suddenly thrown around the parking lot, impulsioned by a big silver truck that had come out of nowhere, and Juliana's mind flashed all kinds of alerts at her:

"...E se algo der errado, só se esconda ok?", her dad's advice for 'outside life' echoed.

Truth be told, it hadn't been useful at that time someone set fire to the classroom, neither that time the police thought she was part of a protest she didn't even know was happening, but eh, it was still good advice. Call it paranoia, but some Brazilian neighbourhoods were the very definition of dangerous, and stories spread far and wide. You should always be prepared for the worst, especially during night time...

As the crowd scattered this and that way in confusion about more cars showing up, the Brazilian teenager instinctively grabbed the person immediately next to her and tuning out the cacophony around her, zig-zagged through the mess of people as fast as she could. Most of it had been done automatically since she had been in similar situations before, but by cutting through the multitude and not outside of it, the pair blended in, making the chances of them being targeted by anything a lot smaller.

Juliana only stopped running once she had turned into a corner, away for the crowd and even so didn't relax just yet.
She very abruptly pulled whoever it was she had brought with her against a wall and gave them her cellphone to hold. It was there, in that split second that Jú realized just who she had dragged with her, well, again, for like, the hundredth time that day. It hadn't been by choice. It could have been literally anyone, the teenager just didn't want to be completely alone at a time like this... But argh, Copy Machine better not make her regret bringing her along!

"Stay quiet and whatever happens, don't.freak.out. or you'll kill us all.", Jú gave a serious look, ordering the other with a whisper. At this point, her forceful behavior and the accidental action of blocking Mitch against a wall had definitely come across as something else entirely.

Taking her hands out of the wall, the Brazilian brought her arms out, standing in a T shape with her palms straightened and closed her eyes. She focused past the ruckus, past the sounds of cars and glass and shouting and running... That was no longer her problem, no, what she had to do now was picture a bubble, imagine that a bubble was now shielding them both, hiding them both from sight, separating them both from the world itself.

When she opened her eyes again, the world had as expected gone black, as if someone had just decided to flip the biggest lightswitch ever. In accordance with the accomplished feat, Jú now felt as if something was pulling her down, like an added weight on her shoulders. Turns out hiding people required a lot more effort than just hiding coffee mugs...

"Está bem, está bem, tudo está bem. Se eu não posso ver, eles provavelmente também não podem", the girl muttered to herself repeating that last bit over and over, trying not to freakout herself, "Goddammit, this is just like that restaurant robbery again! And I thought America was supposed to be better than that!"

And then an awful choir song started and a stranger's voice announced the presence of the Knights of Ragú. Which... was probably not the name, but it sounded so strangely similar to that food's name that the teenager just had to eye-roll at it. Laaaame. Had she not been rendered temporarily blind, the girl would have given a glance of 'who the hell are these guys??' to her companion, but since she couldn't, Juliana simply stayed quiet and listened. The fact that she had to focus on hiding them as well definitely wasn't helping in understanding this situation any better...

The Brazilian expected the ruckus to quiet down and the 'invaders' to start making demands and such, as you would expect from this type of situation, however, against any bit of common sense, a new voice, a known voice, cut through the air with a battle cry:


"W-was that Shorty?!", she had gasped in surprise, "Wait. Is he fighting back? Oh, FUCK. What is he even thinking?!!!"

The thought of Jeremiah rushing towards danger and putting himself at risk out there made her heart leap, so much that Juliana had been about to turn around, but then stopped herself at the last second. Could she move and somehow still keep this whole thing with her power going on??? Was she even capable of focusing on both tasks at once?
Too afraid to discover that the answer might be 'no', the girl took a deep breath and stiffened further into the T position, a bit frustrated with herself for being in a such a weird situation. I mean, Mitch was still there, really really close and probably against her will even... Argh, this hadn't been thought through properly at all!

"Welp, seems like I'm stuck here until I either run out of juice or whatever is going on is solved. I am certainly not moving a single.muscle. if it means I get to live... Nu-uh! No fucking way!"

Wargrave

“Charlie-1 to Charlie-2, please ensure that those devils know that we’re here.”

“Sir?”

She scowled a little and pressed the butt of her gun closer into the hollow between her shoulder and chest, inching closer to the edge. “Just shoot them. We’ll deal with whatever comes our way next.”

There was no reply from her lieutenant. The only reply she needed was the ensuing burst of aimed shots. Each of them were aimed towards every single showcase of bright lights and unnatural power. One screamed past the boy who had cast some sort of spear of light at Pack 2’s drones. The sudden increase of firepower would indicate their location- somewhere across the body of water that the facility sat next to. Enough to warn the devils that they were there. Not enough time for them to come over and crash the party without them being able to put their faces in full view of their scopes and put them out of commission.

She scanned the area with her own rifle, then caught sight of the mechanical guard of the facility, tearing a block of cement from the wall, and flinging it towards one of Pack 1’s boys. Supers and AI. Just great. A whole establishment populated by monsters. She wanted to turn the scope towards every single person there, leave nothing but messes and pitiful remnants. But she had her orders.

So why wouldn't these chucklefucks just take the message, sit down, and behave?

She levelled her aim, aiming against the wind and the bullet drop, exhaled, and pulled the trigger.

Malikai
The Oldest Blueberry

Location: In a net
Mood: Tired. Angry. Confused.
Nearby: Kendrick, Mary, Sam and Miia. Maybe also some of the Green Gators?
@s Necessity4Fun ViAdvena Lioness075 B Bag o Fruit ManicMuse

It had been a good day, but Manami was tired. She stood with her team, fighting the urge to yawn, her eyes bleary and unfocused. More than anything else, she wanted to go home to the boat, tie herself to the anchor chain, and have a good long nap drifting with the shifting currents of the estuary. Sensei Swan said a lot of words and it seemed like he was pleased with how the test had gone, but it was a little hard to follow. She wanted to ask someone to explain what ‘due time’ meant, but would have been mortified to speak while a teacher was talking. American students often did, but this was one area where her acculturation was far from complete. The interruption that happened next however, was far beyond merely rude. At first she couldn’t even process what was happening. Then, after the explosion, as the shouting and shooting began, a dark cloud passed over her eyes, and her body seemed to expand, muscles rippling under her scales. Her breath hissed out from between her clenched teeth, and she rose up taller, spreading her arms out in a generalized threat display. Something was deeply wrong. Her eyes snapped back into focus just in time for a net embedded with hooks to land on her from above. For a moment, the confusion returned.

“Kendi? Mary? Are you ok? Sam? What is happening?”

She stood tall enough now to keep the net from touching those nearest to her, but the hooks in the net had bitten into her scales and drawn blood. Manami was an old hand at removing fish hooks though, having lived on a fishing boat for as long as she could remember. Arching her back and spreading her arms wider, she formed a sort of dome to protect the others from getting hooked. Twisting her neck, she bit one out of her shoulder while casually slicing two more out with the blade of one of her stingers. With her other stinger, she sliced a six foot high slit in the side of the net tent. “Everybody out. We are not so easy to catch as dumb fish.”

"Ha! Didn't I tell you that this would work out one way or another?!", Kendrick had commented out loud after a fit of laughter.

The message was clearly for Sam, though this time he hadn't given her a teasing grin, raised an eyebrow or anything out of the sort. In fact, despite everything that had transpired earlier that day, the boy felt unusually refreshed. He had to glance around him multiple times during the exam just to reassure himself that it was really happening. For the first time, he had felt a connection, as if he was actually standing beside them this time, as an equal.
For the duration of the course, he had yelled at them, reconciled with them, laughed with them. There had been no tricks, no pressure, no invisible walls, no roles to play. No more gaps between him and everyone else. They were nothing but 5 kids pioneering through bouncy inflatable unknown lands, and together they had made something that was planned as just another task, highly enjoyable. So much, in fact, that Kendrick had started wishing it didn't have to end.

But alas, like everything in this world, the obstacle course had indeed reached its conclusion.

Promptly and cheerful as ever Manami had offered to give him another ride on the way back to land. But Kendrick refused, even if he was sure this time that as with the previous occurrences he would be just fine. It's just that he had certainly had enough of water for the day. So, he chose to wait for the boat to catch them instead, retrieving his backpack from its hiding place before meeting with the rest of the team again, already in the spot assigned for the closure ceremony.

There was nothing special about the director's speech. If anything it had been your typical, event closure speech. Even if it hadn't been predictable, Kendrick had something else in his mind. He kept stealing glances at Sam during the thing, the words she had said back in the first float echoing repeatedly: "You need to get out of your head". The boy had probably taken it completely out of context, but still, it had stroke him as such an obvious course of action! Really, why hadn't he thought of that before? He just had to say the things he wanted to say and do the things he wanted to do, instead of worrying so much about them! ...Right?!
Kendrick had started planning how to go about this new realization. Perhaps he could put it into effect right away? Ah, but that'd probably just confuse his peers further... It had to be a gradual thing. They still had to say goodbye to each other so, maybe if he ended the day with a joke...?

But Lady Fate however, always the trickster one, decided to not even give him the chance.
Instead, the sound of squeaking tires echoed in the background, louder and louder, until Mr. Swan's speech had been discourteously interrupted. A silver car flew over the parking lot, forcefully prompted by a large truck. There were very few people that would have done something like this and it didn't take Kendrick too long to put all the pieces together:

"Ahh, please don't tell me I have to deal with these guys, again?!"

Before he could react though, even more cars had started barging in and with them, armed soldiers. There were gunshots, grenades, drones... At this point, the teen was struggling to keep track of everything that was going on, too distracted by the chaos unfolding before him to even think about moving an inch away from it. One thing was certain though: These people were a lot better prepared than they had been in his previous encounters with them.
Utterly lost on what to do, Hell, what could be done even, Kendrick had almost not seen the net that had been fired in his direction. When he did catch sight of it, however, it was already too late to run and by instinct he brought his arms in front of him, protecting his head closing his eyes and preparing for the impact.

...An impact that never came because Manami had once again thrown herself in the line of fire, shielding him --for God knows how many times at this point!--, and asking if everyone else was okay:

"If I'm alright?! I should be one asking that! Manami, you're bleeding for God's sake!!", he had retorted at her worried, clicking his tongue in frustration right afterwards, "I can't believe they dared to invade the facility like that, when we were distracted even, the barbarians! That was such a coward move..."

No honour! No honour at all!!
He wasn't as angry about the damage, the interruption of the exam's closure or even the startle, no! What really ground his gears was the way these 'Knights' had so nonchalantly gone for the cheapest tactic in the book! No honour, no flair, no code of conduct, nope, absolutely nothing like that! Really, did no one honestly just think of levelling the field somehow and then engaging in something a lot more straight-forward and less, I don't know, criminal?! Dang, his family was technically Christian as well, though definitely not this level, but he could still see how utterly bullshit this all was. Justice?! Don't make me laugh, this is just some psycho-gang twisting and doing things backwards...
If anything, the employment of such tactics made one thing very clear: They were scared. These people were a lot more scared of the supers than he was scared of this whole situation, which is why they hadn't used fair tactics, because deep down they knew that they would lose.

Kendrick stepped outside the net upon Manami's command, grinning to himself. He had taken advantage of the time inside the net not only to reflect but also open his backpack, leaving in on the floor. Wearing his signature conductor hat, he flipped his limiter off already 'ordering' toys out of it. With a confident glance towards his teammates, all there right beside him, the young Haywood let his emotions take over instead of fighting them back as he was used to. He was going to do what he wanted to do this time:

"Snowglobe! Let's show these people what happens when they invade our facility, shall we? We have taken them down before, we'll just have to do it again."