The hero training program provided breakfast, something that went against every self-declared intent for the young supers to learn to be independent. If that didn't sum up the hero mindset, Damien wasn't sure what was.

Still, he took advantage of it, filling up a platter with food and retreating to a table at the far end of the cafeteria he'd discovered on his first day in the program. It evidently connected to the tower up above, because heroes in full regalia made their way down, picking up breakfast before returning to their work.

From the back of the cafeteria, Damien was able to observe the students as they entered. It was strange, in a way. He'd dropped out of high school after losing his hand, not that he'd needed the education anyway. Anything he needed to learn, he could, and faster than anyone in school. Watching groups of young supers make their way through the cafeteria, overly boisterous despite the early hour, obvious cliques already forming, brought him straight back to that time.

As far as he was aware, he'd been the only super in his school.

A short girl with colorful hair bounced into the cafeteria, this time alone. It was the first time Damien had seen her without Vivainne, or the tall boy, Florence. Pip Carter, someone who might be worth approaching, if he could figure out what to get out of it. As far as he could tell though, she was nothing special, aside from her last name.

She has connections though.

She was also obviously close with Vivainne, and he still needed to figure out how to gain her trust, or at least her power. She was already suspicious of him, however, and no doubt that had rubbed off on this Pip.

He sighed, then stabbed a fork down into a pile of greasy scrambled eggs, cheese turning them an oddly orange color. When he looked back up, mouth full, a tall, lanky figure was making its way briskly across the cafeteria, gaze set on him.

He swallowed, too fast, and coughed in a desperate attempt at recovery. He wasn't fast enough, however, and was still coughing when Florence dropped into the seat across from him.

"Hi." The word came out with a crooked smile.

"Hello," Damien managed, still coughing.

"Sorry," Florence said, smile turning sheepish. He slid his plate forward and picked up his fork, making himself comfortable. Did he plan on eating here? "Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," Damien said, finally clearing his throat. He looked up at the boy, scrutinizing. He should be attempting to charm him, build some sort of connection, but all that he knew he should be doing fell short amid his confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Eating with you," Florence said, then shrugged. "You were sitting here by yourself, I figured you could use the company."

"Won't your friends be upset?"

"They'll get over it," he said. "Besides, I'm friends with everyone here. I can't be expected to exclude you specifically."

"All right." Damien retrieved his fork, more intimately aware of the movements in his prosthetic hand than he was his bio-hand.

Noticing Florence's eyes on it, he quickly switched hands, dropping the prosthetic into his lap. Of course he would get more stares here than he would anywhere else. Prosthetics weren't exactly exceedingly common, but they weren't odd, either, especially one as realistic as his own.

"Sorry," Florence said, pulling his eyes away. "I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable."

"Well, it's the thought that counts," Damien said, the words coming out too bitter.

He was doing this all wrong, and he knew it. But it was like he couldn't stop it, irritation boiling up and over and ruining what should have been a productive, relationship building conversation. Staying up all night to install surveillance tech around the apartment certainly hadn't helped, but he'd been too worked up to sleep, mind too awake.

"No, it's not," Florence said. "Not unless you have a mind power."

"Uh, sure."

"Okay, I know we got off on the wrong foot," Florence began. "Or wrong hand…" He trailed off, waiting for Damien's reaction. All he earned in response was a raised eyebrow. "Okay, I'll stop trying to make jokes."

"Was that a joke?" Damien asked. "I thought jokes were supposed to be funny."

"Ha ha." Florence shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. "I guess I deserved that. In my defense, I flirt, I don't make jokes."

"You should give that a try," Damien said, the response spitting out before he could think about it. "Maybe it'll work better."

"Oh?" An excited, rakish expression stretched across Florence's narrow face. "In that case, what's that hand do?"

Damien stared, mouth agape, before laughter burst out like a broken dam. Tears burned in the corners of his eyes as he shook, unable to contain himself.

"That was terrible," he choked out.

"It really was, wasn't it?" Florence asked, chuckling quietly. "I'm sorry."

"You should be." Damien sat back, forcing himself to breathe, and met the boy's eyes. The piece of him that understood the mission knew this was his ticket, and he hadn't even needed to seek it out. Another piece of him couldn't shake the lightening feeling of laughter after a long, exhausting night. "But really, don't be. I needed that, I think."

"Well, I'm glad I could help. And I'm sorry about my friend. She's been through some stuff, but shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Focus, he chided himself, the words pulling him out of the moment and to the mission he'd been sent here to perform. He couldn't get distracted, not when such a beautiful opportunity had sat down in front of him and made him laugh.

"It's all good," he said, waving the incident aside purposefully with his prosthetic hand before laying it back on the table in full view. "I think we've all been through things. I was just worried it would damage my reputation here. I already feel like a bit of an outsider."

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"Well, lucky you, I know everyone," Florence said, twisting around to observe the cafeteria. At some point, Vivainne had slipped into the room when Damien wasn't paying attention, joining Pip and a group of girls near the middle of the room. "I can introduce you to some people. Pip and Viv… they'll come around too, I think, once they actually talk to you. You seem cool. Can you believe, Viv thought you were some sort of spy."

A shiver ran down Damien's spine, but he forced himself to smile to match the humored look on Florence's face. "Really? Can you imagine? Wouldn't heroes weed anyone like that out, anyway?"

"That's what I said," he said, settling back into place. "So, what's your power? Or should I wait til power class later to find out?"

Damien met Florence's gaze and winked. "Let's make it a surprise."

"Brilliant."

Power class came shortly after breakfast. Damien filed in alongside Florence into a room that looked like a yoga studio, complete with mats on the floor. He raised an eyebrow at the taller boy, who just smiled and walked to the far end of the room to speak with their professor, a hero by the name of Canvas.

He hadn't expected active heroes to be amongst the teaching staff at the hero program, but by all accounts, Canvas hadn't been active in over half a year. Still, they continued to wear their face covering supersuit. Not all heroes were as cavalier about their identity as the Carters.

Damien crossed the room, finding a mat near the wall by the entrance, his back and right side guarded by the wall. It was the perfect spot to observe, and alleviate the prickling, constant fear in his mind at leaving himself exposed. It wouldn't have been such an issue, if he could use more than his given power, but the last thing he needed was for anyone to realize he had extra powers he wasn't supposed to have.

He shifted awkwardly against the mat as people filed in, waiting for class to start. He wasn't sure what a power class was, or how someone could blanket teach the subject across such a wide range of powers. Especially someone who was, by all means, a young hero.

The glimpse inside the hero world was curious, though not so much enlightening. It was obvious the system had been created by someone with little care or understanding, and Thalia Carter was so famous and imposing that no one had yet dared disrupt her little fanclub.

It even went so far as her daughter running the original hero training program.

The nepotism inside the hero system was so extensive, he doubted anyone could fix it, not as things stood. Vora had the right idea.

Give everyone powers. Strip it down so once again, everyone was on equal standing.

The natural born supers wouldn't like it. They'd built their power on being different, on being special. Vora had explained to him once that she knew this would cause upheaval, that the heroes would fight her on it, try and stop her, and she'd been proven correct. But she wasn't so easily stopped. Just, momentarily held back. Until Damien could figure out how to get her out.

She didn't know where she'd been locked up. He wasn't sure either, having been caught before he could figure out where the meta-prison was hidden. He'd gotten close, however. Close enough to bring him here.

What he needed was the opportunity to break the rest of the way into the Unity systems and find the prison, then use Vora's knowledge and Vivainne's power to break her out.

Somehow.

Florence sprinted back across the room, startling him from his thoughts. He put on a pleasant smile as the boy approached, standing over him with hands on hips.

"Why are you all the way back here?" he asked.

Damien sighed and sat back, resting on his hands behind him. "I take it you were a front of class kid?"

"Only because I talked too much," Florence said, sitting down beside him. "My teachers wanted to have me close by to tell me to shut up."

"That tracks."

"But Canvas is cool," Florence said, nodding toward the hero at the far end of the room. "They've been one of my coaches since, like, forever."

"Oh really? I thought they were pretty new."

"I mean, yeah, but they were involved with Unity before entering the hero program, and I ended up training with them at the tower," Florence said. "They helped me develop some of my favorite techniques."

"Interesting."

"This is where you're supposed to ask what those techniques are."

Damien nodded at the front of the room as Canvas motioned for everyone to take a seat. "I think they're starting."

"Good morning," Canvas said, their voice low enough Damien had to strain to hear. At the room's entrance, someone coughed, and Damien glanced around to find Artemis Carter standing in the doorway, motioning for Canvas to speak up. They continued, louder now. "I'm Canvas, and I'm going to be your power professor. I'm a bit new to this, so I'm going to tell you what my power professor told me when I entered this program. Power is not what you think it is."

They stepped forward, moving through the room with slow, deliberate steps, passing through rows of students on yoga mats. "There is a certain belief when it comes to super powers. It's the thing that makes us special. The thing that allows us to become heroes. For many of you, this belief may have defined you your entire life. You are special because your power makes you special, and you'll become a hero because of that power. I'm here to tell you, you're wrong."

Damien shifted and cast a glance at Florence. He nodded along in rapt attention.

"Your super power isn't what makes you special, or what will make you a hero. It's just a tool in your belt. Something you can train and utilize to do something special or unique, yes, but power alone does not a hero make.

"Take two people with a talent for art. Both of them were born with a gift, someone might say. They're just a little bit better than other people their age. One of them takes that for granted. The other takes that gift and trains it, puts in the work, learns new techniques and styles and tries out new things. The first one, they don't go very far, now do they?"

Canvas stopped in the middle of the room, opening up their hands in front of them, pieces of cloth wound around their fingers. "What this class aims to do is turn you into the second. I will teach you techniques to build on your power and, with the help of several of the experienced professors and heroes here, you'll learn more about your power and how to develop it. I'll also be talking with each and every one of you, over the course of your time here, about what you want to do as a hero and how you can use your power to help you. Florence, come here."

Florence didn't blink at the sudden summons and snapping fingers, pushing to his feet and making his way over to the teacher. Clearly, they'd discussed this with him, planned it.

"Florence is a pyrokinetic, right?" He nodded, and Canvas continued. "What would you expect from a pyrokinetic?"

They glanced around the room and slowly, someone raised their hand. "Someone like Firenado," they began. "Flying around in a tornado of fire, blasting flames at people to stop crime. It's destructive, but it's destructive to stop someone worse."

"Yes," Canvas said. "And what I'm not here to say is that heroic action like that is wrong, when done with intention. You see someone dealing out damage like it's nothing, in this big, flash show. What you don't see is the insane amount of control, awareness, and intention behind that, which makes Firenado such an incredible hero. But if you don't understand the work behind it, the control, then you may think you can go out into the world and do the same thing. Only, you won't be doing it with the training and intention that they are. You'll just be causing damage."

They laid a hand on Florence's shoulder. "I brought Florence up here because I've been working with him on control and technique since you were what, ten?" He nodded, and she continued. "And today Florence is a pyrokinetic with spectacular control, one you wouldn't necessarily expect."

As if on cue, Florence lifted a hand and snapped. Something, smaller than a spark but hotter, exploded in the air in front of them. Heat washed through the room, sudden and consuming, raising the hair across the front of Damien's face.

He blinked, eyes watering. Florence met his gaze from across the room and winked, and like the pyrokinetic was controlling it, warmth spread across Damien's cheeks.

"Control," Canvas said. "This is what you're going to learn in my class. To make your power into a tool to save and protect lives, and keep yourself safe. To start, we are going to begin with what you might think is base zero. Sit down, make yourself comfortable, close your eyes. We're going to connect with your core."

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