Super Powereds: Year 3 (22 page)

Dean Blaine politely pretended not to notice all the glances the students were trying to covertly give him.

“The next set of folks would be the ones who still age normally, but whose usefulness isn’t affected. People like advanced minds, healers, and me fall into this area. Our body weakening doesn’t mean much, because we weren’t really relying on it to start. Most of this category can go into their sixties and hit a proper retirement age, though some just get weary of the work and stop before then. The last group are people with physical abilities that are unaffected by getting older. You see a few strongmen in this category, as well as some energy shifters. Basically, these people could fight until old age took them and never slow down. They tend to vary on career length, since it really is just a matter of them doing it until they decide they’re done.”

“Very well said,” Dean Blaine agreed. “Now, please thank Shutterbug for her time and sharing her knowledge.” The class complied, giving applause that was more enthusiastic than mere obligatory clapping.

“It was my pleasure,” she said, giving the class a smile and a theatrical bow.

37.

Though fliers for Friday’s match would have been a bit excessive, one had to wonder if such circulars had indeed been disseminated to the junior class of the HCP. Nearly every student was in attendance to watch the battle between the top combatant of their class and the senior queen of the hill. Word had actually spread, not through advertisement, but rather by simple word of mouth. Shane DeSoto had been particularly talkative, making sure every acquaintance he had, regardless how casual, was there to see the spectacle. Chad had taken the whole ordeal with his usual level of detachment, giving nods of understanding to those wishing him luck, but otherwise ignoring the fact that other people seemed so interested in his match.

Angela, on the other hand, had taken to it with relish, high-fiving everyone and practicing her victory poses. No one who knew her was particularly surprised, either by the confidence or the antics. As the moment drew near, and the juniors stared down at her from the viewing area, she hardly seemed like she was about to go into a fight at all. While Chad was stretching and limbering up, she was blowing kisses to the crowd. The few seniors who were scattered among the juniors in the viewing area understood what their younger classmates did not: Angela was not someone whose demeanor was an indicator of how seriously she took something. She hadn’t risen to the top of their class through charm or trickery. She’d done it by being undeniably strong.

“This will be a good one,” Violet said, nose all but pressed against the glass. She, Thomas, Vince, Alex, and Will were all bunched together in a space near the south side of the window. This was a room designed to accommodate large groups, so the viewing pane ran the entire length of the ceiling, each wall topped off by a sheet of reinforced, clear material that allowed people to peer in. These five had arrived together due to fortuitous scheduling and had grabbed a spacious section in which to camp before the crush of people arrived. Normally, Camille would have been with them; however, she’d been tasked as the on-site healer, and so was looking on from some unseen location below, in case she was needed in a hurry.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Thomas said. “Though I know of Angela’s reputation, I’ve never actually seen her ability in use. Or, at all, come to think of it.”

“It’s not like we have classes with her or anything,” Vince pointed out.

“Maybe there’s still time to find Shane and ask what it is?” Alex suggested.

“Screw that,” Violet said. “I’d rather just wait and see it in action. Must be something really awesome to have made her number one for all four years. Maybe she grows really tall.”

“I think that would just give Chad the advantage of speed and maneuverability,” Vince said. “I’d wager it’s closer to something like yours, something that allows for an extremely powerful defense, but also has a versatile offense.”

“Mine doesn’t stack up well against Chad; making myself ultra-dense slows me too much to hit him. Thomas’s power would have a better shot,” Violet said.

“I confess, I have wanted to test myself against him, now that my own skills have matured,” Thomas admitted. “But I think this will be illuminating to see both of them in action. Chad’s fights usually resolve very quickly. Watching him in a protracted battle will be interesting.”

This same conversation, or at least reasonable facsimiles of it, echoed throughout the room as each clustered group discussed the merits of what they knew about each fighter, and how they believed they’d stack up in pitted combat. Such interest was not due to overactive self-involvement, rather, it was an unnoticed side effect of years in the HCP. These students were beginning to see everything in terms of a trial, and how they would overcome it. That very mindset was part of why these students still wore the HCP uniform, while others had returned to normal clothes.

Amidst the chatter and speculation, few noticed when Angela switched over to waving and Chad finished his stretches. The two took ready stances on opposite sides of the room, waiting for the signal to begin tearing one another apart.

*              *              *

“I hope you wore your big girl panties, because, when I’m done with you, you’ll have shit all over them.”

Chad was surprised, though not truly taken aback, by the sudden words.

“Pardon?”

Angela let out a long, protracted sigh. “It’s trash-talk. You know, running your mouth, talking shit, getting in the other guy’s head.”

“Ah, you mean a pre-emptive psychological attack meant to undermine my confidence and hinder my performance,” Chad said. “Cunning. In that case, I intend to defeat you in less time than it takes me to mix a drink.”

“Not great, but at least you’re trying,” Angela complimented. “I’m going to make you cry like a five-year-old girl who got knocked off her bike on the day her mother left the family.”

“Extensive,” Chad said. “Why the specification of girl, though? Wouldn’t a male cry just as hard in that situation?”

“Just how these things work,” Angela explained. “Calling a dude a girl is emasculating, meant to make him feel weak and inferior.”

“I know far too many strong women for that to be an effective tactic,” Chad replied.

“Well, aren’t you a good one,” Angela said. “Fine, I’m going to beat you like a toddler in a wolverine fight.”

“You will feel more distress than if you were trapped on an airplane during its landing approach and suddenly suffered an unstoppable bowel movement.”

“Explain,” Angela demanded.

“During a landing approach, one is not allowed to leave their seat for any reason. Not even sudden bowel movements that won’t be stopped.”

Angela had to admit, that scenario probably would fill her with a noticeable amount of distress. “Going for the poop joke, huh? I’m not surprised. After all, you do suck assholes. Competitively.”

Before Chad could grope around for a reply, the hidden speakers crackled to life.

“Students, prepare yourselves. The match will begin in ten seconds.”

“Did I succeed in undermining your confidence?” Chad asked, lowering his stance slightly and shifting his foot back.

“Not even a little bit,” Angela replied, sliding her own body counterclockwise, so that only her side was facing him. She knew Chad was fast; giving him as little target area as possible was going to be key.

“I am glad to hear that,” Chad said. “Fighting anything less than your best effort is a loathsome idea to me.”

“Then boy howdy, are you in for a treat,” Angela shot back, accompanying her statement with a wink. Her eye had barely reopened before the crackle of the speaker filled the room once more.

“Students, begin your match!”

38.

Chad was fast, to the surprise of exactly zero people in or around that room. As soon as the signal was given, he leapt forward, pushing off on the toes of his right foot and surging toward his opponent with fluid grace. Only Sasha could have matched his reaction speed, and she would have fallen woefully short of copying his technique. He didn’t go for anything fancy, no showy maneuvers meant to dazzle the eye. Chad knew he had the barest of windows to end this fight quickly, so he put his efforts into the quickest punch there was: a simple jab. Angela was powerful, but her physical body was as frail as a human’s. If he could land the blow, if he could just be quick enough, then he could win this fight. It was all a matter of speed, and Chad was fast.

Just not quite fast enough.

Less than two feet away from her, he suddenly lost sight of Angela as a golden shield materialized inches in front of him. A lesser Super would have careened into it head first; however, Chad kept running, dashing up the golden surface and executing a backflip with his built-up momentum. He was back on his feet and able to reorient only seconds after the shield had appeared, but seconds was too much time to give someone like Angela.

The shield floated to the side, revealing that, where Angela once stood, there was now a figure covered head to toe in golden armor, positioned in the same stance Angela had been moments before. Golden weapons began manifesting around the figure, each floating in the air well within reach, and each giving off a soft glow from the entire surface. Swords, flails, maces, polearms, daggers, all popping into the air, and then appearing to wait.

“You almost got me before I armored up,” Angela said, her voice echoing from the armor’s helm.

“Still too slow, unfortunately,” Chad replied, his eyes steady as he surveyed the entire field.

“Don’t worry, I know just the exercise to sharpen your speed.”

At those words, a short sword sliced into the ground where Chad’s foot had been an instant before, a golden trail following its nearly imperceptible movement. Only Chad’s exceptional reactions and speed had allowed him to dodge the attack, and even then, he had no time to revel in the victory. Next was a mace coming for his head, then another sword going after his arm. Internally, he knocked up his perception speed another notch. The remainder of the weapons were already flying at him as Angela began her full attack in earnest.

*              *              *

“What the hell is that?” Violet wondered, face now actually pressed to the glass, instead of just hovering near it as she watched Chad move with mercury’s grace around the barrage of golden weaponry doing its damndest to tear him apart. “Does she produce internal energy like you, Thomas?”

“It seems similar,” Thomas agreed. “But my energy must remain connected to me. Hers seems to function independently.”

“That’s because it isn’t just energy,” said a new voice, stepping into their little group. Shane DeSoto looked down at his sister and best friend’s battle with a somewhat unsettling smile. “My sister can create what she refers to as Sunlight Steel, though the name is a misnomer. She can condense any light into physical objects, ones of incredible strength and durability. And, as if that weren’t enough, she can also control their movements. Her limit used to be moving three at a time, but as you can see, her time at Lander has definitely improved her skills.”

“That’s incredible,” whispered Alex, eyes transfixed by the glowing spectacle of a battle before him. “Although, I think I’ve seen something like it before.”

“Almost seems unfair,” Will noted. “An ability with such tremendous versatility, presenting a powerful defense and offense, leaves very few openings. I don’t see any way for Chad to overcome these obstacles.”

Shane opened his mouth to correct Will’s observation, but someone else beat him to it.

“Don’t underestimate Chad,” Vince said. “He’s a lot stronger than you think. We never see his full power, because he doesn’t try to flaunt it or intimidate us with it. I think, pretty soon, this fight will be a lot less one-sided.”

*              *              *

It had taken a few moments longer than it probably needed to, but Chad was a man of precision. This was not, as some might conjecture, a byproduct of his ability. His precision was, in fact, a necessary trait he’d needed to develop in order to use his ability. Other people could make errors here and there, be inexact when using their powers, and the consequences were minimal. His power was his body, and that meant anything he did wrong would physically impact him immediately. It could be fixed, of course; however, battle didn’t always provide time for such readjustments. Better to do it once and right, which was why he’d kept jumping through Angela’s attack even after he’d figured out her general pattern.

She was skilled enough to vary her attacks in general, but no one could mentally keep track of so many objects without falling into some semblance of a pattern. Chad knew that he would have a span of about three seconds in which to act after the next polearm spun toward his torso. When the blade affixed to a long shaft sank into the wall where he’d been standing seconds ago, Chad seized the opportunity. He’d practiced this technique in secret many times since his first bout with Angela, focusing on speed as well as precision. Even with his skill and practice, he still barely completed the augmentation in time to dodge the next dagger coming for him. But he didn’t dodge, even though he had the time.