Super Hero High: Prometheus Rising (IC, Open)

[Mighty Asgard]

OOC: Sign Ups
Try to keep all OOC chatter to the OOC thread.

Tyler

Tyler watched the world below through the small window next to his seat on the shuttle, seeing more and more of the planet as it got further away. When the shuttle got high enough for him to spot his old hometown he turned away and looked at the back of the seat in front of him instead, trying in vain to keep the memories away.

When the last term at the Academy had ended all the students had to leave so the station could undergo repairs after the events of the previous year, and not having anywhere else to stay wasn't a good enough excuse apparently. With nowhere to go he had headed back to Boston, even though his deal with the government wouldn't let him see his family. At the time he hadn't fully decided whether he would honor that agreement or not, but he had decided that he wanted to make sure that they were alright. For several days he had made his living by playing music on the street, which provided enough to feed him and get him a room in a cheap motel. Every night he would go to his old street, trying muster the courage to walk up to his old home and explain everything. And every night he would leave without having done it. His family thought he was dead, and he had no idea what to say to them.

After a week he still hadn't figured out what to do, when it was pretty much figured out for him. On that night he had seen his parents leave the house in the beat-up old Chevy his dad drove, all dressed up for a night out on the town. Seeing them happy somehow made him feel sad, like they had forgotten about him, but he reminded himself that they didn't know he was alive. They had moved on, he realized. At that moment he had decided that they would be much better off without him, interfering with their lives would just complicate things, and he had turned around to walk away for the final time. He had returned to his motel and checked out, then spent his last money on ticket for a bus heading south, because he had always wanted to travel down south and that seemed as good a time as any.

The sight of the station coming into view through the window shook him out of his reminiscence. It was an impressive sight by any account, the largest man-made structure in space, and an amazing testament to what mankind could achieve if they put away strife and hate for a while. As the shuttle approached the hangar bay he started collecting his things, idly wondering if the station had changed a lot since he was last there.

When the doors opened he was greeted with the bustle of a large crowd of people, dozens of students and staff filling the large room, and probably just as many in the other hangar bay. At least they seemed to have organized it more thoroughly than last year, he thought to himself. There were a dozen or so lines set up for the students, organized by their last name. At the front of each line a member of the staff waited to give them directions, along with a map of the school and their personal keycard. Slinging his bag over his shoulder he got into line and waited.

Dominic

Dominic looked out at the crowd of people in front of him, smiling at the sight of the dozens of young gifted people. They would be the future, and he would get to help them achieve their full potential. To even be considered for a position at the Academy was an honor, even if he had been a little hesitant at first. In the end he had decided that he could do more good up there than down on Earth.

He had volunteered to help with the processing, it wasn't mandatory for teachers, but he wanted a chance to meet the students so he could get an idea what kind of people they were. If he wanted to be an effective teacher he'd need to know his students after all. He gave a small encouraging smile to a young boy as he gave him a map and a keycard and sent him on his way.

“Next in line please,” he said kindly.

Anderson

Fredric Anderson sat alone in the relative peace and quiet of his office, reviewing reports on students and staff alike. Obviously there were some students that needed watching, a large part of the student body was made up of prospective villains after all. He had organized some changes in security, which had been woefully lacking the previous year. During the repairs of the station workers had discovered several stashes of weapons, which had prompted a full search of the entire station. With his new security measures in place such things should be a thing of the past.

All luggage and all cargo brought onto the station would be thoroughly scanned before it was allowed through, so it wouldn't be possible for students to smuggle things onto the station. As an extra precaution he had ordered the installation of power dampeners inside all rooms on the station so they could quickly get any fights under control. And unlike his predecessor he would enforce a strict policy on anything that could be used to threaten the security of his station, no more would students be allowed to run around with explosives in the cafeteria.

But other than the students there were also a few teachers he was worried about. The war had greatly reduced the number of empowered individuals, so in some cases he had been forced to allow less desirable elements into the staff. He hoped that they would do their jobs and keep any unacceptable behavior in check, but he had nonetheless made preparations in case they didn't. It was like they said; 'If you want peace, prepare for war.'

He decided that he should have a talk with the potential problems in the staff as soon as he had some free time.

[Ularn]

Two Weeks Ago
Hunedoara
Transylvania, Romania

Scott tensed as the Warrior IFV rumbled over the potholed streets of the little Romanian town. It was four in the morning and dark outside, though the sun would be coming up in about thirty minutes. Scott was still feeling slightly groggy from waking up only an hour ago. He tightened his grip for a moment on the photo cradled in his hand. Seated next to him, leaning on his rifle, Morris spotted it and leaned over. "That your bird then is it?" he enquired with a grunt, trying to get a better look at the young woman with blazing red hair.
Scott attempted a smile. "Good question," he said, as he held the across for the sergeant to get a better look.
The other soldier appraised the image with an impressed expression and handed it back. "Not bad," he conceded, "What happened?"
"Cheated on me,"
Morrisey shrugged, "Aye, slags'll do that to yeh. Don't worry 'bout it mate; yer better off without her,"
Scott shook his head. "Wasn't all her fault. Were you involved in Operation: Buffy?"
"Aye, sure. Spent six hours trying to capture that fucking airport in Kabul and then the Pakis just went and levelled it for us. You there as well?"
"I planned the operation," Scott said ignoring the slur. He'd spent enough time around squaddies now to realise it was just how a lot of them talked; they didn't mean anything by it. He felt the need to qualify the boast though, and added, "Well, the heroes' bit at least. Thing was, I spent close to a month either training or planning; getting maybe four hours sleep a night,"
"Fuck mate, sounds like your average tour!"
Scott smiled, "Aye, but when you're on ops you've not got your missus a hundred yards away wondering why you're no coming to bed every night. Things got distant. I didn't find out what happened until after Buffy when she came clean. Told her I needed time to think, and then school ended before I got back to her, and then they shipped me out here,"
Morris shook his head with a knowing smile. Even though he only had a few years on Scott, Sergeant Morris had been in the Army since he was sixteen and, Scott had realised, liked to pretend that made him an authority on all things concerning women and/or alcohol. After seeing him in one of the Romanian pubs while they were on furlough, Scott was willing to grant the sergeant the latter, though he'd concluded that he and Morris had a somewhat disparate taste in women. On tactical advice too, Scott deferred to the sergeant and the other NCOs. Although he was a strong tactician himself as well as technically an officer, they'd been doing this for years and knew the soldiers' capabilities; something Scott, with only three months of experience, was only beginning to grasp.
"You're better without her lad," Morris concluded, pulling a small, crumpled box from a pouch in his camouflaged jacket, "Smoke?"
"Aye, cheers. Don't worry; got my own lighter,"

---

14 Weeks Ago
Heathrow Airport,
London, Great Britain

They were waiting for him at the end of the tunnel as he got off the shuttle; three men in dark business suits. At least they hadn't all gone with the sunglasses as well but from the way they looked at him Scott could tell easily they were government; they looked exactly like the two who had taken him to the school last year. Scott briefly considered running, but they had the only exit covered. Besides, he'd known this would be coming sooner or later; might as well get it over with.
Would have been nice to get out of the airport first though...
Still, he tried to ignore them on the extremely unlikely chance that they didn't know who to look for. One of them, a wiry yet smart-looking middle-aged man with thinning hair and a wrinkled forehead who carried a briefcase, stepped forward as Scott left the tunnel made for the arrivals queue. "Scott Kerr?"
"Yes,"
"Come with us please,"
Scott obliged. The other two men were younger than the first, somewhere in their thirties. They were bigger; the smaller of them still more than six feet with necks as thick as their heads, and clearly intended to act as muscle if Scott didn't cooperate. That was odd. They hadn't brought this kind of protection when Scott was being sent off to the school under protest, so why would they need it now he was coming home a free man? Why would they think Scott wouldn't cooperate? He doubted either of them could have stopped him if he had resisted, but he couldn't do so without hurting them. So Scott followed the older man, flanked by the other two, through a door into a side corridor which eventually led to one of the small plain interview rooms generally reserved by airport security for those who thought it was funny to say the word "bomb" as they went through check-in. Scott wasn't sure if he imagined the smell of latex gloves. The older man gestured him to take a seat behind a desk while the two shaved gorillas took up positions on either side of the door, standing straight and silent with their hands clasped in front of them. The older man sat down opposite Scott, took out several sheets of printed paper from the briefcase and laid them out on the table. Though he couldn't see what was on them, Scott started to grow more apprehensive. This reeked of hush-hush backdoor intelligence services wetwork, when all Scott wanted was to go home, like they'd said he could when he was sent to The School. Something was wrong here.
The older man spoke, "Mr Kerr, you've probably gathered that we are from MI5. With that in mind I don't think we need to bother telling you any names, since you know they'd be false. Just before we start, I wish on behalf of Her Majesty's Government to express my thanks for what you did in Kabul. The world owes you a great debt."
"Thanks."
"Because you weren't officially acting as part of the British Armed Forces we can't give you a medal. Nonetheless, some sort of compensation and recognition of your efforts will be made in due course. You are how old right now?"
"Nineteen last week," Scott replied, not believing for a minute that the gentleman sitting across from him didn't already know that, and everything else about him.
"Very good," the man said with a false smile.
Scott's patience was wearing out, "Look, do you need me to sign something? I'm meant to be getting a connecting flight to Edinburgh in two hours,"
The man's lips pursed for a moment before he replied, "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Scott."
Scott felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He'd spent the last fifteen months in space at the government's order, and now they were telling him he couldn't go home?
The white-haired man continued before Scott could put his protests into words, "The government believes that you are two dangerous to be allowed back into the UK."
That was too much. "Bullshit!" Scott shouted, rising half-way out of his seat before he noticed the apes tense ready to pounce. He stopped and sat back down reluctantly. "I did my year at The School; I've got total control of my powers now!"
"Really?" the gentleman fixed him with a level stare, "We have it on record that while attending the school you destroyed one of the hangars and killed a fellow student,"
"Eight months ago. And you know that's not the whole story!"
The gentleman's eyebrows raised while he avoided Scott's glare, instead examining one of the papers on the desk. "In any event, it is your control of your powers now which is the problem, Mr Kerr. When you were sent to The School it was for everyone's protection. We expected you'd learn sufficient control to prevent having one of your...episodes where it might harm others. I have to say you now only outdid our expectations; you blew them away. Some of our estimates have equated your destructive capabilities with one of our lower yield thermobaric warheads. The result is that you are now simply too dangerous to have walking the streets of Britain and so, under the Superhuman Protection Act of Twenty-Thirteen, we are hereby taking you into custody."
Scott sat in stunned silence for a moment. Then he felt his skin growing hot and start to prickle. He knew what was coming; could have suppressed it but made no effort to.
"That won't work in here, Scott," the man tutted impatiently, directing his gaze upwards to a small grey box in the ceiling, which Scott had initially mistaken for a smoke alarm. Apparently it was some sort of suppressor field, like what The School had in its brig and any other places where students shouldn't be using their powers. For Scott, so used to being able to ignite at will, the sensation was like a kind of paralysis.
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"We at MI5 do not have a sense of humor we're aware of,"
"Fuck you!"
"Mr Kerr, although we don't doubt that you are perfectly loyal to Great Britain, there are plenty of others out there that would seek to manipulate and use you to further their own goals, which may run contrary to the interests of Her Majesty's Government. For reasons of public safety, we can't allow you to move around the UK unimpeded. However, we can offer you an alternative,"
As one of the sheets of paper was pushed towards him, Scott wondered who those "others" might be, and whether that email he'd moved to his spam tray a few weeks ago claiming to be from Kim Jong-un on behalf of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea might actually have been genuine...
"These papers indicate your intention to join the British Army." the gentleman explained, "You can sign here. Otherwise? Well, we'll try and make you comfortable but I wouldn't grant significant odds of you seeing the outside world again for several years,"
"So prison or the army?" Scott scowled, "When did Britain become a police state? This can't be legal,"
"European Court of Human Rights ruled on it last month," the man corrected, "Storm v France - you can look it up once we're done here. Control on the movement of empowered humans is necessary to protect the liberty and security of others. This is perfectly legal."
"Bullshit."
"Mr Kerr, if you don't sign this form, it will not simply go badly for you. We are prepared to make life very difficult for your girlfriend, Miss..." he made a show of looking at the file even though he undoubtedly knew the information already, "...Roxanne Redwood?"
"She's not my...You can't do anything to her; she's in Ireland!"
"Times change, Mr Kerr. You'd be surprised how little some people will care about borders or national sovereignty in situations like yours or Miss Redwood's. I really would suggest you sign that paper,"
Scott sat silent, trembling slightly as he pretended to read the form. In fact his eyes were transfixed upon the dotted line at the foot of the page. Eventually he asked, "I sign this, and I get to go home?"
"I didn't say that. Sign this, and you get to live in a space larger than this room."
Scott wanted to punch him, incinerate him, but he couldn't use his powers and the gorillas would be on him in a second. Even then it would almost be worth it to try. He'd gone to The School on these people's instructions and now they said he couldn't come back because he'd learned too much?
Finally, he scribbled his name at the bottom of the form, muttering "You know, if you'd just asked me you could have got yourself a volunteer instead of a conscript,"
"Would you have said 'yes'?"
Scott stopped mid-scribble, "Maybe."
"No, you would have asked to go home and think about it. We would have said you couldn't and we'd all find ourselves where we are now. Sign the paper, please."
Scott complied reluctantly. Immediately the man snatched up the form and returned it to the briefcase. He then rose out of his chair, smiling, and offered a hand to Scott.
"Congratulations, Second Lieutenant Kerr."

---

2 Weeks Ago
Hunyad Castle, Hunedoara
Transylvania, Romania

"Three minutes out!"
Scott took a magazine and slapped it into the stock of his rifle. The rifle itself was a plain-old L85A2 bullpup assault rifle of the sort that was standard-issue for British troops. Sergeant Morris and the other troops in the APC all carried one just like it. The unusual feature was the ammunition. Instead of the traditional lead round with a copper jacket, each 5.56x45mm NATO cartridge had a wooden bullet; a seemingly archaic piece of weaponry barely seen since the muzzle-loaded rifles of the eighteen-hundreds, and even then it was because the soldiers had run out of lead for real bullets. According to the other soldiers, the round had terrible ballistics, piss-poor range, crappy armour penetration, and clogged up the barrel of an already shitty rifle something horrible. Scott didn't have enough experience with 'real' ammunition to make the comparison but he was prepared to concede that they were probably right. However, the wooden bullet did have one great advantage over its lead counterparts:
It killed vampires.
Apparently there was some truth to the old legends about stakes through the heart and now modern technology could hurl mini-stakes downrange to a target at a rate of over six-hundred per minute. While the vamps could seemingly absorb insane quantities of lead and keep fighting, wooden bullets were just as lethal to them as real bullets were to a human - provided you could hit the speedy bastards.
Of course, this late into the war most of the vampires had started wearing body armour as well, which limited the wooden bullet's effectiveness to close range and headshots. For that reason, everyone kept a magazine or two of standard ammunition on them as well; at least the better stopping power meant you could slow the vamp down with it while your buddies managed to nail it with a wooden headshot.
In any event, Scott usually discarded his rifle on most ops shortly after the shooting started. Once he heated up the bullets had a tendency to gang-fire in the chamber, making the rifle keep shooting until it was empty even after he took his finger off the trigger. For some reason the army kept giving him new ones though, just as they consistently replaced the combat fatigues he burned through on every mission. Scott suspected it had something to do with uniformity; they wanted to be able to think he was just like them even if he wasn't, and he put up with it because it was a sign of a kind of acceptance, in spite of the irregular way in which Honorary Second Lieutenant Scott Kerr found himself attached to The Black Watch, 3rd Battalion, Royal Regiment of Scotland. Though at least he'd got rid of the kevlar vest they'd made him wear initially; the red and black skinsuit he wore beneath his fatigues didn't offer as much protection but at least it was flame-proof and didn't impede his movement as much.
The tank pulled up and Morris ordered everyone outside into the visitor car park of Hunyad Castle. To the east, an orange glow over the hills heralded the sun which would shortly be poking its first rays over the horizon. It would have looked stunning; Transylvania was truly a beautiful region, but Scott and the other soldiers had no time for sightseeing.
As a jumble of towers crafted from red stone and orange slated roofs, separated from the parking lot by a narrow wooden bridge across a deep gully, Hunyad Castle looked every bit like it had been copied from a Bram Stoker novel. Indeed, that was closer to the truth than one might have thought; rumour was that Vlad the Impaler, more commonly known as Count Dracula, had been imprisoned here some time in the fifteenth century. Quite apt then, that the Transylvanian fortress was now one of the last vampire bastions in Europe.
Morris was going through the plan with his squad, "All-right, so intel says we're expecting three Victors inside. We hit them at sunrise, just as they're going to bed. Red Team takes the front door over the bridge; Cinder goes with Blue Team up the walls to insert via the roof. Green inserts via the roof on the other side. Maintain radio contact; sweep the area, and watch your backs. Don't assume we're only dealing with three. Clear?"
"Clear," the other soldiers replied, as Scott set about getting the climbing gear out of the IFV.

---

The climb wasn't as difficult as he had feared. They started at the foot of he gully but the craggy rocks and weather-worn stone of the castle offered plenty of handholds and it took barely more than ten minutes before Scott, Morris and the rest of Blue Team found themselves on the roof, just as the sun crept above the horizon.
"This is Blue One," Morris whispered into his mic, "Blue Team and Cinder in position,"
"Recieved," came the reply, "Green and Red Teams also in position stand by...and go!"
The breaching charge placed on the roof blew through the rusty roof slates in a cloud of orange dust. Elsewhere Scott heard the echoes of two more charges as Red Team and Green Team made their insertions. Morris took point, with Scott dropping through the hole right after him, sweeping his rifle around the darkened room they entered while the rest of the squad entered behind. Seconds later another voice came over the radio, "Green One; Victor down in sector eight,"
"Received Green One. Any casualties?" came the reply from control.
"Nah. Staked him before he got out the coffin. Continuing sweep,"
Scott allowed himself a tiny smile. Not even thirty seconds into the sweep and they'd taken out one vampire. It was unlikely that the others would be so easy though. Sunshine or not, the sound of the breaching charges would have roused them. Morris signalled them into the next room and Scott took the lead.
The vampire was clearly just out of its tomb when they entered, but it was already armed. The vamp fired its rifle - a kalashnikov - at the same time as Scott threw up a firewall between him and his foe. The molten bullets that made it through the blaze splashed off of him like so much water as he darted right from the doorway, clearing the way for the rest of the squad as it filed through after him. He squeezed his own trigger as he rounded the barrier of flame and the vamp came back into view. The burst went wide, only clipping the creature on its shoulder and spinning it round. But the next burst from another soldier caught it squarely in the midriff. It wasn't wearing armour and toppled immediately. Three more soldiers swept in immediately, surrounded it and fired several more bursts into its chest and head before it collapsed into dust.
Morris confirmed the kill, speaking into his headset as the rest of the squad formed up to go through the next door, "Blue One; Victor down in Sector Ten. Continuing sweep,"
"Received, Blue One,"
Another voice interrupted the exchange ,"Red One; Victor down. Man down in sector two,"
"Received, Red Two; man down. Continue sweep,"
Scott swore. That was three vampires dead; all that there should have been in the castle and all in under two minutes. But Red Team had had a man injured or dead. They could not halt the sweep though. Hesitating left them open to attack and then they'd only lose more people. Nothing could be done for Red Team's casualty until they'd confirmed the castle clear.
"Green one; spotted a fourth Victor going into Sector Nine"
"Received Gre-"
Scott just had time to realise that Sector Nine was the room directly below them when the ageing floorboards of the castle exploded upward, cutting off the intelligence officer's acknowledgement. He just had time to see Morris sprawled wide on the floor, a splinter almost a foot long sticking out of his leg before he felt himself being barrelled over by some massive beast. He ignited entirely on instinct and the creature snarled in pain and retreated. Scott pressed the advantage and launched his blazing form at the vampire. If he had more time he might have immolated the vampire with a fireball or kept him - it - at bay with another firewall while the squad reacted and got a bead on it with their rifles. But there was no time for finesse; a beat-down while ignited was simple but brutishly messy. He could only grab something; an arm or a throat, and cling on tightly as the smell of scorched flesh filled his nostrils and the creature squealed in pain and struggled to shake him off. Scott held on fast though, finding the vamp's torso and wrapping his legs around it while pressing its face into his blazing chest in a scorching embrace.
It didn't take long. The vamp's struggles grew first more frantic and then weaker and seconds later Scott was clutching nothing more than a rapidly dissipating cloud of ash.
Extinguishing himself quickly, Scott looked to directly Morris, who already had one of the soldiers kneeling by him with two fingers on his throat. The soldier looked up at Scott and shook his head. A pool of blood was spreading out from the sergeant's wound; the splinter must have severed his femoral artery. At least it had been quick. Scott reached for his mic, only to realise it was running down his neck as a rapidly cooling liquid plastic. He grabbed Morris' instead. "Cinder," he announced, identifying himself by his personal callsign, "Two Victors down in Sector Ten. Man down in Sector Ten."
"Recieved Cinder."
Less than a minute later Red and Green Teams arrived in the room. The sweep had taken four minutes in total.

---

Scott was waiting outside the Captain's office back at the base, still in his skinsuit as he picked at the remains of the plastic headset sticking to his skin like treacle or dried tree sap. The door opened and he came to attention as the Captain addressed him, "Come in Lieutenant,"
"Sir," Scott acknowledged as he saluted the company commander, and followed him into the office where they both sat down on opposite sides of the desk.
"What is it you wanted to see me about, Lieutenant?"
Something always felt odd to Scott whenever he was addressed by his rank; like it didn't really fit. Probably because it didn't; he'd been given Second Lieutenant as an honorary rank simply so that they army could fit him into the chain of command somewhere. In practice, he didn't think he'd actually given an order in three months, and wasn't sure it would have been obeyed if he had. Although; he'd been thinking about how he would answer the captain's question the whole time he'd waited outside the door, he hadn't come up with any way of saying it which sounded reasonable. Eventually he said, "Sir, I wish to inform you of my intention to resign from the army,"
The Captain raised an incredulous eyebrow, "I see."
Even Scott found it hard not to laugh at himself. Last he'd heard, the army wasn't something you just up and resigned from with your two weeks' notice like a normal job. His was always a special situation though. He tried to explain, "Sir, you know the circumstances of my enlistment. I can resign any time without reason and now that we're done in Romania it would seem like an appropriate time."
The captain gave a long sigh, then said, "I'm aware of that. Is this because of Sergeant Morris?" Scott said nothing. "People die, Scott," the captain continued, throwing formality aside and addressing him by his first name, "You've seen it before, even though I realise Morris was a friend of yours. But you nailed four vamps today at the cost of two men. That's a better exchange rate than we usually manage against these bastards and one that's definitely in our favour. I've also read the mission debriefs. Most of Blue Team seem to think they owe you their lives,"
"Yes sir, but..." Scott tried to articulate what he wanted to say, "What you say about exchange rates - this battlefield mathematics - it's not how I can think because I'm not meant to be in the army. I never wanted to be. Maybe if they hadn't skipped me through a lot of basic training it might've been different but that's how it is. And that's why I want out, sir"
The captain considered this for a moment, then shook his head in resignation. "Very well then. We'll be sorry to see you go. Under the circumstances, we can't discharge you outright but I can have you placed on indefinite leave. I'll draft the paperwork now but before I do I should point out that I am familiar with your situation, Scott." the captain fixed him with a concerned stare, "Nothing's changed since you came back from The School. If you quit then there's only one place they'll put you. It's they only way they can guarantee the NKs or someone else not getting their hands on you. I'd hate to lose you just to have you wind-up in a fireproof cell somewhere under Thames House,"
"Actually sir," Scott said, "There is one other place I can go."

---

Present Day
Academy for the Empowered
Low Earth Orbit

Scott stepped off the shuttle on the heels of a swarm of students little younger than himself and hoisted his rucksack onto his shoulder. He'd kept to himself on the way up, although there had been a few faces among the students who he recognised. Most of them probably thought he was a student himself, judging by his apparent youth. As he looked around the familiar surroundings of the hangar bay he noted with mixed memories the newer, shinier panelling which covered some spots of Bay One and the new gantry which had been erected by the control room. They'd all been there last time he was on board the station but it still made him shiver to look at them again.
He left the hangar and, rather than taking the lift which would undoubtedly be packed with all the new students, Scott took the stairs up through the dorms, pausing on Level 2a to look round the vigilante common room, freshly cleaned and prepared for the new term. Some students were already gathered there and chatting to each other, tucking into crisps and sweets from the vending machines. Give it a few weeks and those wrappers would undoubtedly have accumulated into small mountains atop the couches and coffee tables. Scott noted with approval that a few students were making use of the miniature basketball hoop he'd installed by the stairwell over the previous summer. As he continued up the stairs he didn't bother looking around the school levels and classrooms; he knew them well enough. Instead he carried on until he reached the teachers' quarters and swiped his key card in the door.
For the first time since he'd first arrived at the school, the door opened for him and Scott stepped into the teaching lounge. It had the same octagonal layout of the student common rooms and the thick bay windows looking out onto the Earth below, but it was kept in an altogether much neater state. No beanbags though, he noted with some disappointment, and the vending machines had disappeared in favour of a fridge-freezer, kettle and coffee machine.
Done exploring the lounge, Scott located his room and swiped the door open. The staff quarters were twice the size of the students' and Scott had this room entirely to himself instead of sharing. He dumped his bag on the double bed and flopped into the three-seater sofa, found the remote for the widescreen TV fairly quickly and flicked it on to one of the news channels.
Scott "Cinder" Kerr, Superhero, Teacher of Power Ethics and School Counsellor at the Academy for the Empowered, had arrived home.

[Firstaria]

Daniel woke up that day quite dizzy. He wasn't the type to have vision of war memories the night, he got over them after the first week going against the vampires...but it was hard not to think about the past with what was going to happen today.
Today many teens would arrive from that shuttle, all thinking their power are good for scoring, or for be cool, or for might...or even for villainy. Others would think to became vigilantes, rogue heroes of unsung wars.

But the world didn't need nothing of it. Yeah, it wasn't usual for him putting the "what the people wants" against the "individual right to choose", but the situation was hell down there; if wasn't for the Italian governed, he would probably avoiding stones right now, or worse. All those child was almost in the same situation, now that the existence of SHH was world knowledge.
The world needed an hero, like the ones of comic books and other nice films. Someone that saves the day on regular basis, help police, catch the bad guy without hurting him too much or destroying half of the city in the meantime. Hell, that part was hard even for the comic heroes.
He would learn them to control their power, to use them with full knowledge of their abilities, so to optimize their skills. What they would do after his lesson...their choice. But hopefully, when they would return on earth, the people would see them saving the world and would finally stop their xenophobia. He didn't want anyone to have his same fate, had to join some special forces like the COMSUBIN and live in lies.

With those thoughs, he walked towards Anderson's office for a final talk before the beginning of the lessons. He arrived at the door, and knocked.

[Nakarisaune]

Rachael smashed the window and slid into the shop.

She didn't like to think of herself as a thief. It was hardly stealing when the owner was either dead or just missing. But judging by the fact that the poor man hadn't been seen since the vampire invasion, it was safe to assume he wouldn't be wanting his vodka any more. So not stealing, really, more liberating unwanted objects. There weren't many police around any more. She wouldn't be caught in the middle of a liberation. Even if anyone else came in to steal something, the black clothes would probably help. Rachael usually dressed in black now. It was good for creeping around buildings searching for scraps of food, and most of her clothes had been black anyway. She didn't want to be noticed. After all, anyone attacking would be stronger and faster than her. She'd also forgotten her knife.

The shop was empty, damp and dark. Or at least empty apart from the rats. Rachael could hear them scrabbling around in the walls, some of them nibbling on damp cigarettes that were so worthless they hadn't been stolen. The electricity around here had gone out a few weeks ago, and no-one really knew how to fix it. If only one of those superheroes Roxanne had told her about could just swoop down from that fancy school of theirs and sort out the electricity. Dammit. The school.

She'd received a letter about it just before the postman had gone missing. It had told her that because she'd been able to control water for about a week, she had to go to this school to help her to use it. Rachael had made up her mind not to go. What would be the point? The world was crappy enough already. Having another human in it wouldn't help. And judging by what had happened to Ruby, Rachael didn't want to take the chance of never returning. But then Roxanne had returned from thin air and told her "Oh, Rachael, you should go, you're not safe here, they'll kill you." And Rachael didn't want to disappoint her remaining sister by not going. After all, Roxanne could kill her easily. She probably would if Rachael didn't hurry up with some alcohol. Although her sister hadn't done any fire tricks for quite a while, it was probably a good idea to avoid her anger. You never knew what she'd be hiding.

She wandered around the shop for a while, choosing what to liberate, trying to get the water bottles to fly towards her. Roxanne had told her that she needed to move the molecules inside. She attempted to drag it towards her with her eyes closed, visualising the molecules. It was quite easy to imagine them. She'd read quite a few science textbooks in her time. But that didn't help with actually moving them. It didn't work, like usual. She sighed, opened her eyes, and bent down to pick up a few beer cans for her sister. A water bottle bounced off the top of her head, and she cursed.

After leaving the bottles and a loaf of stale bread at Roxanne's apartment, it was time to get on the rocket and go to the school. It was strange to think that. Schools in Ireland were usually abandoned now, with too many people dead to keep them running. In Rachael's school, twenty-three teachers had gone missing since the vampire attack. Rachael headed home first to collect her belongings. She lived with her father now, but he was getting old and senile. The stress from losing a wife and daughter was probably bad enough for him without all of the vampire crap. She hadn't told him about the school. He would try and stop her from going, possibly even lock her in her room. She'd made up her mind to go. Perhaps it would teach her how to stop fish tanks from slamming into her whenever she walked near one.

She showered and dressed in some old black clothes again. These ones were the few that had escaped being burnt, and though they were quite ripped in places, she hadn't stolen anything else that fitted, and at least they didn't stink of smoke and alcohol. They were plain, just some dark jeans and a t-shirt she'd stolen from Roxanne. It didn't fit very well, seeing as Rachael's figure was far more boy-like than her sister's, but the few that fitted were already in the suitcase she was taking with her. Most of the stuff inside it was stolen. The family had been rich recently, after Roxanne bringing in some income from whatever superhero stuff she'd been doing at the school. All the money was quickly wasted with plane tickets to fly to America and try to find Ruby, and they'd come home penniless. What with Roxanne showing off her powers a little too much, the family had been driven back to Kildare. It was almost abandoned, due to everyone knowing about there being a couple of groups of superhumans around the area, and more than a few people had attacked the family because of their powers.

The county hadn't been a very populated one anyway, but now most were dead or had fled. Which meant that there were ample opportunities for liberation of unwanted objects. There were a few gangs of other superhumans around, but Rachael and Roxanne stayed out of their way. Roxanne because she couldn't bear to be reminded of it all, Rachael because most of them were boys and were probably just looking for food and sex. And she'd rather not have her food stolen. She didn't want to think about the other thing.

After shouting a quick goodbye to her father, Rachael left the house. She didn't bother telling him where she was going, and that she wouldn't be coming back for a long time. He was used enough to that by now. She dragged her suitcase along the street, pulling out a little tattered hand made book. Roxanne had made a little guide to the new superhero school, with maps and sketches of people she should avoid, the nicest teachers, and a few rather disturbing drawings that Rachael had already ripped out. She would rather not have to see what her sister did in her spare time. There was a map on how to get to the rocket to the school, and though Rachael doubted it would be safe, she resigned herself to taking the route there that Roxanne had marked out.

It wasn't long before she arrived, and she spent the trip staring out of the window as the world shrunk. She gathered her bags and stepped out into the hangar.

[Acrem]

Jack staggered off the shuttle in his usual dark, brooding mood. He resented this place already, for it was just another of the many attempts to rid him from the world at large. He wasn't even sure where he would be after this year. His current guardian saw this as the perfect chance to rid herself of him, and Jack was sure she was going into the details even as he stood here waiting. He milled around in the crowd of students, deep in his own thoughts. The noise level was to much for Jack. He could feel a headache coming.

It came with in a span of a few seconds, just as he had expected. It started as as a pulsing beat, emanating from his temple and slowly spreading through his head. Flashes of white and black obscured Jack's vision. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for it to pass. After a minute it subsided and Jack pushed it out of his mind. He was used to these by now, as they occurred several times a day. At least one good thing could come from this place Jack thought, They might help me stop these fucking headaches.

Jack set off and found his dorm. He chose a bunk that was in the farthest corners of the dorm. He placed his small backpack and his duffel bag at the foot of his bed. Then he sat down and pulled out a small black book out of his pocket and made a quick sketch of the shuttle landing and the dorm room. He didn't want to get lost. Yet. He waited for someone to call him to the assembly he was sure they would have for new students.

[Mighty Asgard]

Anderson put down his tablet as he heard someone knock on the door. One lesson he had drawn from his many years in the army was that it was good to have an open door policy for your immediate subordinates, so he had made sure to inform all the teachers and staff that they could always come to him to voice their concerns. That way he would always be informed of the latest dealings and potential problems, most people were more hesitant to report things when they had to write a formal report to do it. He paused a moment to straighten his tie before opening the door.

"Good day, Mr. Mercury," he said when he saw who it was, taking a step to the side to let him in, "please, come in, have a seat."

Daniel Mercury was one of the first people he had considered for a teaching position at the school, with his solid background as both a superhero and a teacher. Just the sort of person they needed at the school if they were to repair the damage done to the public view of superhumans.

"So what can I do for you?" he asked after sitting down behind his desk again.

[United Districts of 1]

Tulsa, Oklahoma

“It’s not going to see us is it?”

“No it wo-”

“Ssshhh”

“Oh god it saw us!”

“Run, Ru-”

“MOM, DAD!”

The memory was burnt into John's memory and would never be removed. The images were less clear, for that he was thankful. Life had been so simple just months ago, that was until extra-dimensional beings overran half the planet and killed countless millions. The American Midwest was no exception to the bloodshed. Tulsa was a smoldering ruin left in chaos by the combat and subsequent looters.

The very air smelt acrid and riddled with death. It hadn’t rained in weeks, well not water anyways. Embers were constantly drifting down to Earth like little snowflakes of flame. It would have been beautiful in a different time and place. John hated fire, it was a perversion of nature and justice. Killing indiscriminately and without reason or regret. Fire was a monster with no purpose in this world. Gravity, a constant of the universe and life. It holds the world together, keeps everybody on a equal field.

John had a special understanding of gravity. A very personal understanding of the force that binds the universe together. The doctors couldn’t explain it, the scientists had one theory, not a very good one. It had something to do with John’s ability to influence dark energy by mental actions. All he knew, was that he could control it. He had discovered his power during the attack, two of the creatures attacked his family. They killed all of them, as they came after him something clicked in his brain. Without second thought or speculation he compacted one of the creatures into the size of a pea. The other didn’t have time to react before his atoms were moved away from each other and he was turned into a cloud of gas.

That was when John had discovered the talents he had unlocked. Since then he had been enforcing his own brand of justice in the lawless city. Some may say that he was a criminal himself. He would reply “Justice is more important than the law.”

John looked down from his perch on the ledge of a small apartment as three hoodie clad men gathered around the door to the building. One drew a crowbar and let a tiny chuckle slip, it was the last noise he’d ever make. As the end of the crowbar made contact with doors lock the burglars took flight. They were suspended helplessly by John, he looked them over. All of them were scum. With a flick of his wrist the trio of criminals was crushed into dust and they were blown away in the wind, just more embers.

[Firstaria]

Anderson put down his tablet as he heard someone knock on the door. One lesson he had drawn from his many years in the army was that it was good to have an open door policy for your immediate subordinates, so he had made sure to inform all the teachers and staff that they could always come to him to voice their concerns. That way he would always be informed of the latest dealings and potential problems, most people were more hesitant to report things when they had to write a formal report to do it. He paused a moment to straighten his tie before opening the door.

"Good day, Mr. Mercury," he said when he saw who it was, taking a step to the side to let him in, "please, come in, have a seat."

Daniel Mercury was one of the first people he had considered for a teaching position at the school, with his solid background as both a superhero and a teacher. Just the sort of person they needed at the school if they were to repair the damage done to the public view of superhumans.

"So what can I do for you?" he asked after sitting down behind his desk again.

" Good day, Principal Anderson. " Daniel said entering, looking at the man. Fredric Anderson was the perfect headmaster for SHH: no powers, but he not only was in the war, but he was considered an hero. No one had probably objected his election, and nobody could do that: with an human hero guiding the supers, the public opinion had already to take a step back in the xenophobic direction.

However, Anderson was now in front of the firing range, since any failure of the project would had probably ended to make him look untrustworthy; and then the racist would return to attack, destroying the school and his reputation.
And technically, that was the reason Daniel was there " Sir, I know that you've surely though about it, but before I could start my career here, I need to know from you why some of my colleagues are...infamous, for the lack of a more educated word. "

He then put on the desk some files he had with him: Chelsea Grinn, guilty of an infinite number of murders; and Gabriel Gray, who hunted and killed many people for powers. The first was declared by the COMSUBIN archives "mentally instable and to be detained at any cost", the second had lost his power absorption ability, but it was still a serial murderer for many people. If anyone would decide to attack SHH's reputation, those two were easy targets.

[TaQud]

12 days ago, Cleveland, Ohio

Ace began to pack up his belongings he was taking to this new academy in space. He thought about the people he would miss. His mom, dad, and friends were all going to miss him. He thought about his family history of flying ability and how is has helped him in his life so far. Then He realized and was now excited on what the possibilities in this new academy. He imagined this academy to have better dorms then the dumpy houses in Cleveland. Ace then finish his packing Ace was so close to begin his destiny.

---

Present Day

Ace was now on the space shuttle to this academy. He started to feel homesick so easily. But he had to get over it as he had now landed by the academy. Ace then headed to a (Hero) dorm trying to find a corner spot. Those places were taken though so Ace just picked some random dorm. Ace then started to unpack and breath in the scenery around him.

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benjamin Silva

Silva groaned and stretched out. He glanced over at his dorm room. Nothing too interesting, nothing that really had any bearing. He shrugged. That would have to change. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a few things. Grinning, he began to decorate the room. First, he placed a Green Day poster above his bed. Followed by an iHome he had, liberated, from an abandoned store, which he placed on a dresser next to the bed. Silva put a Led Zeppelin poster on the door, and then began to unpack the important stuff.

First, his pistol collection. It had grown exponentially over the course of the Vampire Apocalypse, and held everything from old .38s to .50 caliber Desert Eagles. It was in a disassembled rack in his bag. Silva began to snap the different pieces together, to form a glass cabinet that would hang on the wall. It took him about five minutes, but it came together nicely. Then, Silva gently placed his beloved collection into the places that they went. What came next was something he never left home without. His lighters. Every Pyrokinetic wanted them around. It was far easier to manipulate fire than it was to create it. So, Silva had gotten quite the collection of lighters. Cigar lighters, cheap plastic lighters, Zippo lighters, even two solid gold lighters. They all went in a cabinet in the dresser next to his bed.

One of the Silver lighters, with a Marine Corps logo on it, went into his pocket. Silva stood, stretched, and walked out of his dorm in the Hero's section of the building. Really he was more of a vigilante, but there weren't many of them around, and so the school had decided to put him with the Heros.

Aaron Levi

Aaron glanced around his classroom. And what a classroom it was. It was three stories tall, and a few hundred feet deep. One one end was a classroom, desks, chairs, and his own personal desk and chair. The rest of it was something out of a Drill Instructor's wet dream. Obstacle courses, a firing range, a wrestling mat, and even a massive gun vault. It was fireproof, lead coated, made of solid Adamantium, Cold resistant, and on the inside, was a small piece of ore. That ore was one of the few things in the world that negated powers. All powers. No powers inside of Aaron's classroom worked. Inside this space, they were all just human.

He chuckled. The first time he had walked in it had hit like a sucker punch to the gut. His abilities, gone. The lighter in his pocket became a dead weight instead of a weapon. It had been a weird feeling. But, so had boot camp. Mossad and Sayeret Matkal had taught him many things. One of those was to adapt and overcome. He had adapted to teach these kids. There would be times when they wouldn't be able to use their powers, especially the Vigilantes and Villains. The Heros would need it too. It always happened the same way. The kids all thought their power made them invincible. It didn't. Hand to hand combat. That was what it came down to. The scenarios he prepared would teach these kids how to survive. That was what he was here for.

[Britcan]

Sam looked out the small shuttle window into the black abyss of space. He liked being in space it made him feel closer to the moon, his saviour. As the earth became yet smaller he caught his first glimpse of the station. It was massive, the biggest object man had ever put into space by some accounts. Looking at it, he couldn't disagree.

The shuttle seamlessly docked with the space station and Sam stepped out into a crowded area full of students chatting or getting room assignments from the handful of teachers making sure no one tried to blow up the place too early on. It was just like his first day at the orphanage, except that the kids there weren't generally capable of sinking battleships with their bare hands. However he knew that when it came down to it they were still just teenagers, he had no doubt that they would still act like it, for better or worse.

After going through security checks that made airport security look like a quick affair Sam headed over to a line in front of one of several teachers who were giving out keycards and maps to new students. As the boy in front of Sam collected his things the teacher at the desk said "Next in line please” and Sam stepped forward. The man was in his mid-thirties had dark brown hair and a kindly expression on his face. Not knowing what to say, he went with a simple. "Hello"

[Reythan]

Axel was late. Normally, he wouldn't really care, after all, it was only about 5 minutes. But this time, it mattered. Axel was recently appointed to a teaching position on the SHH satellite orbiting Earth, and he was late for the first faculty meeting. "An excellent first impression for the youngest teacher here." he thought. He stopped by a map of the station and groaned in both disappointment and annoyance. "Screw it." he thought, pinpointed the location on the map, cleared his mind and concentrated on the room.
KOPRAAN MOTMAH FILOK MIRAAD
Axel canted, and as he finished, he saw the room spin, increasing in speed, and as it reached a critical point, Axel was deposited in the meeting room. If anyone was watching him from his first point, they would see a bright flash of blue-white light. The occupants of the room were not so lucky, and they were subjected to a harsh blast of blinding light. Axel was standing by the doorway, stooped with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. After a few seconds of recuperating after the draining spell, he sat down at an empty chair and asked for a glass of water.

[Mighty Asgard]

" Sir, I know that you've surely though about it, but before I could start my career here, I need to know from you why some of my colleagues are...infamous, for the lack of a more educated word. "

Anderson studied the files Mercury put on his desk for a moment, he had already read all of it and a little more in the reports he had on the two.

"Mr. Mercury," he started, observing the other man intently, "make no mistake. I am aware of their sordid past, and I have instructed security to keep them under watch. They will not be permitted to threaten the school." It was rather clear that his words hadn't convinced Mercury, so he continued. "I am sure you are aware of the damage done to the superhuman population by the war, to put it plainly, there are not many superhumans left in the world. Official numbers place the total world population of empowered individuals at roughly four thousand, the actual number is maybe twice that. From that number you have to remove those too young to teach here, as well as those who do not speak English sufficiently well to teach in it, and those with nothing useful to teach. What you are left with, is three hundred fifty two empowered individuals suitable for a teaching position. I chose to include those two because I hope their experiences will be useful to the students, even if their pasts are not spotless. Under optimal circumstances I would not have made the same choice, but these are troubled times."

"Was there anything else you wished to discuss, Mr. Mercury?"

Dominic
Dominic smiled at the boy, "Hi there, hold still for a moment please." He picked up a small device from the table in front of him and held it in front of the boy's face for a moment. "Sam Luna, welcome to the Academy," he said cheerily, "you're in the vigilante dorm, floor 2b. Here is your keycard, and a map of the school." He handed Sam a plastic keycard and a map. "The elevator is right down the hall if you don't feel like taking the stairs."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Tulsa, Oklahoma
Agent Garland of the Metahuman Enforcement Agency stepped out of a nearby doorway just as John disposed of the prospective burglars. For weeks his team had been tracking the young vigilante as he waged his one-man war against crime in the city. Eventually they had decided that he could be a useful asset in the future if he received training, so they had arranged for him to be sent to the Academy. Not that they had told him about that, but that was why they had arranged this little trap. A few local drug addicts paid to smash windows and break into homes was all it took to lure the target out into the open.

"Hello, Mr. Fairfields," he said calmly to the target, "my name is Agent Garland, and I think we need to have a talk about your future."

[United Districts of 1]

Tulsa, Oklahoma
John gave a little jump as the agent spoke to him from the street down below his perch. He looked the man over, he wore a sly grin on his face as if he had just pulled off a hilarious ruse. That's when the nature of the situation hit John like a truck, the burglary was a trap. He should have known, the criminals would never talk that loud in a refugee camp. He was stupid to end up here and be caught by who ever these people were. He let out a sigh and then fell from his third story perch to the ground below without injury.

"And what might the nature of my future be?"

[Mighty Asgard]

Agent Garland smiled at John, a very unsettling smile that never reached his eyes, "You have great potential, Mr. Fairfields, and it is our belief that with some help you could achieve great things." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "We've arranged for you to be sent to the Academy for the Empowered, John. And if you impress your instructors there you'll have a very lucrative contract waiting for you when you get back. You'd be doing the same thing you're doing now, hunting criminals, but we'd pay you for it."

He held out the envelope towards John, "so, what do you say, want to be all that you can be?"

[Firstaria]

" Sir, I know that you've surely though about it, but before I could start my career here, I need to know from you why some of my colleagues are...infamous, for the lack of a more educated word. "

Anderson studied the files Mercury put on his desk for a moment, he had already read all of it and a little more in the reports he had on the two.

"Mr. Mercury," he started, observing the other man intently, "make no mistake. I am aware of their sordid past, and I have instructed security to keep them under watch. They will not be permitted to threaten the school." It was rather clear that his words hadn't convinced Mercury, so he continued. "I am sure you are aware of the damage done to the superhuman population by the war, to put it plainly, there are not many superhumans left in the world. Official numbers place the total world population of empowered individuals at roughly four thousand, the actual number is maybe twice that. From that number you have to remove those too young to teach here, as well as those who do not speak English sufficiently well to teach in it, and those with nothing useful to teach. What you are left with, is three hundred fifty two empowered individuals suitable for a teaching position. I chose to include those two because I hope their experiences will be useful to the students, even if their pasts are not spotless. Under optimal circumstances I would not have made the same choice, but these are troubled times."

"Was there anything else you wished to discuss, Mr. Mercury?"

" No sir " Daniel said, taking a pause for a moment, then said " I was thinking I would get this answer, Principal Anderson...but as I said I had to hear that from you. I think we share the same hope, and if I've decided to use that word as my symbol, it's a thing that I have to trust without doubt. "

Learning towards the exit, he touched his belt, the word "Hope" incided on it, and then quit the office. His next destination was the hangar, where he would meet the other students. Entering the place, he walked around, searching for students to know.

[United Districts of 1]

John gave a nod with satisfaction.

"I'm ready to leave this place"

[Nakarisaune]

Well, this was just great. After flicking through the guidebook a few times while sitting on her suitcase, Rachael had concluded that she had ripped out the map of the school while getting rid of some of the more explicit illustrations. That meant she'd have to join the line before most of them had gone. These other superhumans - what if they turned on her, like the ones in Ireland had? She dragged herself down to the line, dreading that anyone would try speaking to her. She was not in a mood for speech right now. Once the queue began moving along faster, Rachael pushed in front, grabbed her keycard and map, then stalked off before the teacher giving them out could speak. She noticed with a groan that most people here were male. Great. More perverts.

She headed to a lift to the Villain Dorm. She'd chosen villain because it seemed to fit her best. Also, it made a nice set. Roxanne had said she had been a Vigilante, and Ruby was always going to be a hero and try and save the world and along with it countless baby rabbits. There was a vacancy for someone who hated about half the population there somewhere.

[Camicon]

Nothing that relevant. Pretty much the entire post is me introducing you to Tara King. Where she comes from, the sort of personality she is, etc.

I didn't really know what to expect, but I did think I'd have been a little more... awed? The rocket shuttle had been very impressive, yes, even though the take off had almost brought up my meagre hotel breakfast. And the space station itself was pretty amazing, hanging in orbit like a dew drop on a spiderweb. It really was quite incredible. Yet, everything I saw seemed somehow... lacking. It felt a bit like walking into a really big, really empty, stone hall. It all looked so cold, and empty, and impersonal. I've never been fond of houses that use too much stone, or metal, and I didn't really relish the thought of spending almost an entire year surrounded by nothing but high-tech polymers, and super strong alloys. Such things were necessary, of course, given the nature of the school, but I still didn't like it.

I've always favoured the out-of-doors. My parents were never too pleased, especially given that vampires spent their free time tearing around the country side with wanton slaughter, but I was always pretty careful about it. I never went out until two hours after sunrise, and was always back in town two hours before sunset. The woods always felt so alive, during the day, with the sun filtering down through the trees and giving everything this subtle green tint. Most people never understood why I liked to spend so much time outside of town. All they saw was the danger that came creeping out of the shadows when the sun went down. They never saw the other side. They never saw the outdoors as a backdrop for life. All they saw was the hunting grounds for a feared and mortal enemy.

Camicon was, thankfully, mostly untouched by the vampires. It's a small country, nestled between Germany, France and Switzerland. Pretty isolated in all respects. It's not significant strategically, and we don't export anything, really. We can barely call ourselves a sovereign nation. Mostly we're Switzerland's vassal, but like I said we're a country that's easily overlooked, so they've never tried to force us to accept their authority. We owe them a fair bit, because they've kept France and Germany from annexing us, but even then I'm not sure anyone would bother. There are maybe two thousand people that live in Camicon, the smallest in the world I think, and probably the least known. The fact that nearly everyone that lives in Camicon is taught to stick-fight from the time they can walk didn't hurt either. Apparently, the fairy tales are true. A piece of wood through the heart can kill a vampire.

I dropped my hand down to my waist, brushing my finger tips against the two oaken sticks strapped there. I knew there wouldn't be any vampires in the school... actually I didn't, though I was pretty sure there wouldn't be any... but it was comforting to know I had them. They were like an old friend to me, and really they were the only thing of any sentimental significance I'd brought with me. Them and the uniform my Mom had made from my gymnastics suit, but I didn't plan on actually wearing that. Maybe as pajamas, but in public? Not on your life.

I was shaken from my reverie by a sort of shuddering in the shuttle. I felt my heart racing, and thoughts of being sucked out into space started flashing through my head. Sure, they'd managed to make some shuttles, but how safe could they really be? I calmed down pretty quick when nobody started screaming or spontaneously combusting (though there would probably be some other students that could). Back in town I was known for being easily startled. I'd hoped not to make the same impression here, but old habits are hard to shake i guess. it's not that I get frightened, really. It's just that I have a highly attuned sense of survival. I like being alive, thankyouverymuch, and I'd rather jump at a few false alarms then sit there while someone buts a bullet between my eyes, or fangs through my neck.

Unbuckling myself, a pulled my two duffle bags from under my seat and slung them over my shoulders, left bag off my right and right bag off my left, so that the shoulder straps sat crossed against my chest. I was wearing a leather jacket, so there wasn't anything for some of the more... perverted boys, to leer at, but even if I had not I don't think I'd've been troubled too much. Mom had always said I had an "athletic build", and that there were plenty of boys that found that appealing. It didn't help the fact that there were thirteen year-old girls with a bigger bust then me. Whatever the case may be, I'd never been interested in having a boyfriend back in Camicon. Most of them were more focused on practising their stick fighting, and the rest of them weren't ones that I'd actually considering going out with. My thoughts drifted in this manner while I joined a line, and shuffled forward at a sluggish pace, slowly getting closer and closer to one of the school's teachers. I caught the name of the boy in front of me, Sam Luna, or something of that sort. He was bigger then me, not that that was a very impressive feat, and looked to be a bit younger, if only by a year or so. After he'd walked off I stepped up and took his place. The teacher held some gadgety-thing up in my face, and then welcomed me to the Academy, handing me a security card, a map, and giving me directions to my dormitory. Hero Dorm, floor 2c, he said. I nodded absently, wandering towards a staircase while I perused the map. It might take me a while to find the place (I'd never had a good sense of direction in large buildings), but I was determined to do it on my own.

[Mighty Asgard]

A black sedan with tinted windows drove up next to Agent Garland and John, without the agent having said anything else. "Enjoy your stay at the Academy, Mr. Fairfields," he said as he held the door open for John, not getting into the car himself. He gave a small wave as the car drove off, pleased that the operation had gone off without a hitch, they hadn't even had to use the snipers positioned on the nearby rooftops.

The agents driving the car brought John back to his home so he could pack for the trip, and then drove him to a nearby airport where a shuttle was waiting for him. After carrying his luggage onto the shuttle the two agents walked away without saying anything, and John was left alone on the shuttle. The trip would take roughly an hour.

[Britcan]

Dominic
Dominic smiled at the boy, "Hi there, hold still for a moment please." He picked up a small device from the table in front of him and held it in front of the boy's face for a moment. "Sam Luna, welcome to the Academy," he said cheerily, "you're in the vigilante dorm, floor 2b. Here is your keycard, and a map of the school." He handed Sam a plastic keycard and a map. "The elevator is right down the hall if you don't feel like taking the stairs."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Sam was very impressed by the level of technology the station had access to, this stuff would only be in the prototype phase back on earth. "No, thanks. I think I know what I'm doing." Sam said to the cheery man. He glanced at the map briefly and decided to head over to the lifts when a girl, clearly in a bad mood, stormed past him. Sam rolled his eyes. "What the hell is her problem." He thought to himself before getting into a lift and pressing the button labeled 2b.

[Asterdan]

Gabriel Gray sat in the rocket that would take him to Super Hero High, where he had just been offered a job teaching. He was grateful to escape the persecution that even the Carnival's were now under, but he was shocked they would let a former serial-killer teach!

If you had ever watched Heroes, then you knew the basis of Gabriel's life. He had the ability intuitive aptitude. This caused him to develop a hunger for more abilities, which in turn caused him to kill. He killed for years, taking off scalps and examining brains to learn new abilities. However, that all changed when he became ill with a strange virus.

He was the only known person to ever contract it, and they called it the 'Sylar' virus. The Sylar Virus acted much like himself, and the character that it was named after. The Sylar Virus only inflicted people with abilities, and what it did was steal the abilities of the host. Some individual viruses had electric manipulation, pyrokinesis, flight, any of a multitude of abilities Gabriel had stolen over the years. Before they could steal his telekinesis (his most valuable ability), he was cured.

After that, Gabriel had fought off the vampiric aliens. Once the xenophobia started, he simply joined a Carnival, the only other place besides SHH that people with abilties could live normally. Lately, however, even the carnivals had begun coming under attack. He was looking for a place to flee when he was offered the teaching position at Super Hero High. He would be teaching a class called 'The Dangers of Abilities'.

The ship landed and Gabriel stumbled into the school. He located his classroom and began prepping it for the school year.

[Altruistic Paladins]

Bramwell was technically a military brat, but his mom had retired from the Air Force by that point. He was raised in the Bay Area by a mother who was a F.B.I. Special Agent and a dad who was an engineer for industries that had their eyes on the night-sky. He recieved a great education, and shown he was intelligent and altruistic, if shy and prone to being targeted for bullying due to his nature for one-sided discussions, semi-non-linear conversations, and various stereotyped patterns. One year in Monteray, he went to the same school as Makoto.

Makoto was eccentric. She had stereotyped procedures she'd do every day, had odd focuses, and had trouble making friends. She was something of a tomboy and geek as could be seen by her clothes, hobbies, and actions. She was abrassive, but compassionate and protective. When Moffet Federal Airfield was turned back into Moffet Naval Airbase, her family transfered there. Since the Department of Defense doesn't run schools inside the United States, she went to the same public school Bramwell was going. Despite the odd differences, they were friends. The two had their friendship put to the test in the face of a vampiric apocalypse.

During the Vampiric War, every military installation between San Diego and San Francisco was serving as a stronghold that were helping to defend against the vampires, which was helped in part because the United States Armed Forces were quick to adapt tactics, strategies, and weapons to combat the vampires, with civilian reaction being the unpredictable factor that still ensured plenty of civilian losses in the war. Since they were meant to distract the vampires from anyplace north of the south end of the San Francisco Bay, civilians were evacuated distances away from them. Most civilians between San Francisco county and Monteray were moved to the North Bay for protection, with some exceptions. Bramwell's dad was one, for he was meant to keep communications technology up and running. Among the evacuated were Bramwell and Makoto. The two had managed to stick together to help eachother and others throughout the evacuation due to their membership in the J.R.O.T.C. When everybody was evacuated, the J.R.O.T.C. was meant to serve various roles; one was reconassaince by way of providing warning should the vampires get too close to the Bay for comfort. Bramwell and Makoto were in the same patrol alongside others. By this point, their parents were dead in the defense of the United States of America and California.

September 18, 2012, 0520 Hours: Day 6 of the California Campaign

The day was loud. Thunder and heavy rain made the day loud, and the lightning illuminated the dark day. A group of six J.R.O.T.C. members was on watch in San Jose."Sentinel, this is Crow Patrol. We have spotted a group of twenty vampires coming down Mount Misery from our position on Oakland Road over Bayshore Freeway," Makoto said calmly.

"Damn, this is bad. We don't have any resources to spare right now, but we should have something available in an hour and thirty minutes."

"Sir, could you speed that up? They seem to be searching, and they do seem to be headed down into the suburbs." Bramwell said.

"I'm sorry, but the A-10 Thunderbolt IIs aren't going to be available while they are flying back from a strike in the Sierra Nevadas. I guess you'll have to wait then. We don't want to risk your lives."

"Sir, yes sir. You heard the man. We have to keep watch. A group of twenty vampires is small enough that we could be in trouble due to the small amount being harder to keep track of." After some observation, it was soon realized something was wrong. They were moving ever closer to where some communication workers were located. The people whose goal was to keep communications up and running were in the path of twenty vampires, though it seemed they didn't notice yet. When the storm got bad enough, their connection to command was lost. They knew they had to do something. It was decided that four would head towards a place where they could get better communications. Two would have to keep them distracted, and thus Bramwell and Makoto volunteered. They revealed where they planned, namely where their location would be and when. Bramwell's dad had died protecting his coworkers from one of those things at the job.

They just headed down a block to a motorcycle shop and got a FJR1300 to do the job. They drove down to San Felipe Road and made a large enough amount of noise to get the countenances of the twenty vampires focused upon them. They now had to make the hour drive from San Felipe Road to the Santa Cruz office of the California Highway Patrol. With Bramwell driving and Makoto shooting, they now had to make the trip. Luckily for them, the American vampire was an odd variant that had more in common with "I am Legend" rather than "Dracula" in terms of what kills them, so firearms were viable options in this theater. On the rainy streets, it was a tough drive. Complicating matters was the fact Bramwell wasn't exactly an expert at driving motorcycles. There were some moments when they got close to being bitten or crashing, but they now had a mile lead on them. Now, they had pulled up to the Santa Cruz C.H.P. office. They ran inside and put whatever security they could in place.

"Okay, we should be safe for now, however temporary that may be," Bramwell said with a hint of relief.

"It should be good enough for now. Let's see if there is anything that could hold well," Makoto said with a sense of confidence as though they had control over their situation. The two searched throughout the building, but didn't find anything that was built to survive such a force. For now, they went to the armory, and then headed down into the basement.

"Okay, the vampires are still outside if that sound means anything," Bramwell said with a hint of satisfaction.

"So, we are in the basement of a C.H.P. office waiting for the airstrike," Makoto was speaking with a sort of calmness.

"Yep, it's just us and twelve minutes before we won't have to worry about them." Bramwell headed over to a computer, and booted it up, hoping it had access to the internet.

"I'm certain we won't be given any military honors for this since we aren't official members of the military."

"I don't think we will, and I do not care if we get the Medal of Honor. We are beyond the point of caring, for we will be taking souvenirs to hell." Bramwell soon had a song called "Missing in Action" on.

"Bramwell, you have an odd sense of humor about this and a nice taste in music for the last ten minutes of our life."

"Maybe it's because we chose to be so. Makoto, you have an odd sense of contentment with the current situation."

"Maybe it's because you're one of the few friends I have."

"The feeling is mutual. We shall not die in vain...or alone." Makoto put on a Hans Zimmer song called "Way of the Sword" after his song was finished. They now had about eight minutes left.

"We have eight minutes left, and I'm spending it with the one person I love that is still left," Makoto said quietly.

"'We few...we happy few. We band of brothers. For he that sheds his blood today with mine shall be my brother, be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition...'"

"'Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.'" The two then embraced, smiles on both of their faces and tears running. They were content with the idea of dying to protect the innocent, even if they didn't believe there was an afterlife waiting for them. For them, the last eight minutes was going to be a warm embrace and kisses as they listened to a beautiful peace of music as they awaited their death at the hands of an A-10 Thunderbolt II pilot that didn't even know they were there. Makoto gave a short confession. After that, they came to terms with death, and they were going quietly, smiles on their countenances, happy tears in their eyes, the two in an embrace. They had been resigned to death, and had been happy, for they felt this was the death they had chosen and come-to-terms with, and were going to spend it in a happy time. The two lost conciousness on the last note when the ordinance made itself noticable.

---

After a moment opened up, the Coast Guard was sent to the office where the bombing in question happened. They had sent a HH-65 Dolphin to either the two since they hadn't returned. As they flew over Santa Cruz, they saw no signs of them. The vampires were dead, so wouldn't they be waving for them to pick them up? Since they saw none of them throughout Santa Cruz, they stopped to search the office that had been torn up. They saw the office was rubble. They started to search the rubble, and eventually got to the basement remains. The soon found two bodies. Somehow, their bodies withheld well, and hadn't started decomposing. The bodies had avoided mutilation, and could be salvaged for a proper funeral. They soon brought the bodies onto the HH-65 Dolphin, and started the flight home. Halfway through the flight, the two "bodies" had started coughing up blood. They were in a state that would be described as critical. One month later, they would exit the military hospital they were treated at, which was after the American Theater had been declared a success. The United States Armed Forces knew now that they had superpowers considering what they survived.

---

The United States Armed Forces and Federal Bureau of Investigation were the only groups that knew of the incident. Since the D.o.D. and F.B.I. had interests in superpowered people for various reasons, they entered the care of the United States Armed Forces, who managed to get the two adopted by a Naval Officer in Pearl Harbor-Hickham and gained a social worker on the F.B.I.'s payroll helping them by the name of Lance Moreau. The United States Armed Forces were doing so out of good intentions of respecting the dead by respecting the children of them and an egalitarian mindset. The F.B.I. did so partly out of a want of those with superpowers that could help the F.B.I.'s investigations. The F.B.I. and D.o.D. investigated what the cause of their powers was, and veiled what had happened in there. For now, the D.o.D. and F.B.I. would be helping them without the knowledge of the rest of the government.

---

A year later, the two were in Honolulu due to living there with their adoptive family, the Aymerics. They were regular high-school students on the last days of their summer vacation. Their relationship was now at the point of it being hard to understand whether it was a really close friendship or a couple. They had chosen Hawaii as a state for them to live in because it was a state that wasn't anti-super yet. The federal government had not created specifically anti-superhero legislation yet, prejudiced elements using already existing powers to do so.

As Bramwell and Makoto were riding a bus one Friday, an incident happened. An eighteen-wheeler had lost control, and crashed through the bus they were in alongside sending other vehicles aside. A major problem was that they were in the spot where the bus was hit. Limbs had disconected from their bodies, and the scene was gruesome. As bystanders and onlookers looked, they say their limbs head back to their bodies and re-attach. This happened involuntarily, and luckily their faces were somewhat disfigured by the crash, though that would regenerate.

"Okay, this isn't good. This is already looking like certain members of the crowd were members of an anti-superhuman militia, and were calling for their heads. Makoto, see what you can do with your telekinesis to help those trapped in their vehicles." As Makoto was doing that, Bramwell could hear a police siren in the distance. He knew he had his opportunity to do something. He decided to use his telepathy to read the mind of the officer responding. As Makoto freed the last of the eight victims, the vehicle arrived. It was the HPD, and the officer seemed to be trustworthy.

"Makoto, I'm going to do something to get us out of here, as I don't want an incident to happen. Officer Francesco Cavalaro, we need your help."

"What is this voice in my head?"

"This is the guy in front of you. It looks like the bigots are calling for our blood and are trying to get their friends to join; they want us dead. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to go through every person to hear what they think, so I'm going to assume the rest are just bystanders. I need you to bring us to safety in an act that looks like an arrest to pacify those bigots."

"Okay; I'll help you. I understand."

After the stagged arrest, the officer entered the headquarters of the Chicago Municipal Police with them in tow. Lance Moreau waited there, still wearing sunglasses and a suit. He brought them to a quite room there.

"I heard there was an accident. I understand you got pretty roughed up by the crash considering the looks on your faces. I already know what has happened. You had used psychic powers to help both your escape and help others. I've got to say, it'll be a while before you can resume normal lives." His semi-guttural voice only disguised his professionalism.

"So, how are you even knowing everything that has happened?" Makoto said.

"Who ever said I didn't have powers? We have ways of knowing things and acting on them. I've already informed your guardian of what had happened. I must discuss with you what your options are right now, as things are hectic to say the least. We can always transfer you to a different foster parent and give you new identities. It would be the simplest, and we could keep this just a cover up."

"Why are you talking about this so candidly?" Bramwell asked.

"I'd thought you'd never ask. The Honolulu Police Department's ranking members are sympathetic. They are egalitarian, and don't want to treat superhumans any differently so long as they aren't committing crimes, for then they would have to break out heavier measures to take them down. The recording equipment in this room is off. Remember, you have friends in high places, including the current administration."

"Back on topic, I don't exactly want to have to move just one year after having been here."

"Then here's another option. After your faces have healed and changed into clothes that aren't torn and covered in blood, we can sign you up in the Academy for the Empowered. It's a school in space for superhumans. There, you can learn to use your powers, in addition to not being on Earth, which will allow us time to do the cover-up of your identities. We can't cover up the incident, but we can cover up your involvement in it. Since we don't want anybody knowing your last names there, only those who need to know it will. Your first name is fine to know, but don't tell anybody your last name just in case. You can learn how to use your powers, learn the sciences behind them, and avoid letting your secret identity slip. We'll have time to cover up your involvement, and you can come down at the end of the term."

"Makoto, does that sound like a good option to you."

"I think it's our best option. I agree to it. Bramwell?"

"I agree."

"Good, I'll get in contact with the principal, sorry, 'headmaster' of the school so that you can join," Lance said.

"Remember, if you are in a position where there is high risk, call me. The Air Force will have a shuttle there shortly. Give the place a chance, but please stick together. There will be an inherint amount of danger with the place considering some of the people that were accepted. Remember to call us and stick with people you can trust. Your family will be waiting for your return."

---

Riding in a C-130 alongside various soldiers, Bramwell and Makoto were sitting next to eachother. The plane in question was headed to Jacksonville Naval Air Station from Pearl Harbor Hickam. The sight of the two teenagers amid a bunch of Air Force Security Forces was a disconcerting one. When they landed at Jacksonville Naval Air Station, they were riding in a small convoy of M1117 Armored Security Vehicles headed to Kennedy Space Center. The M.P.s were kind, but that didn't take away from their expressions. Early the morning of the next day, they were on an Air Force flight headed into space under the excuse of repairing satellites and dropping off equipment for the Academy for the Empowered. The craft soon connected with the station, and they stepped off alongside the Air Force astronauts bringing in requested equipment. Nobody outside of the F.B.I., current Presidential Administration, Academy for the Empowered, and United States Armed Forces knew they had come on the flight. Makoto and Bramwell were getting off the ship and into the hangar. They were still carrying around luggage in military packaging. The two know wondered who to head to. Looking somewhat confused, they hoped a teacher would help them rather than a rude student trying to bully them.

[Hetland 2]

Chram grimaced and took a few steps off the shuttle, the soles of her feet clanging menacingly, "In the name of the Daemon-Doctor, why are all of these weaklings here?" Her black, backless maid costume allowing her power core to extend swivel around and pull itself back in. Unlike her previous, the Assassination model was lighter and quicker, sacrificing large amounts of armour and shields for her toxin distribution system and superior A.I. It would be very fun here. She could tell.

[Firstaria]

Back to where we started, Makato and Bramwell getting off the ship and into the hangar. They were still carrying around luggage in military packaging. The two know wondered who to head to. Looking somewhat confused, they hoped a teacher would help them rather than a rude student trying to bully them.

Daniel finally managed to intercept two students before they would run upstairs in their room, and looking at them asked " Hi, welcome to the SHH; you should be students, can I ask your name and powers? " he said, asking to the two new guys.