Zane experimentally cracked an eye open. His neck didn't ache like it usually did after he slept on the hard thing they called a bed at the orphanage, and as the memories of the previous day came rushing to him, he thought that maybe it had been a dream.

It sure felt like one.

However, the soft pillow that supported his head felt real enough. And the dog barking loudly for some re-

Was that Max?!

Zane scrambled upright. He looked around the unfamiliar room and bolted for the door. The scene that greeted him almost made him pop a blood vessel. His new roommate was giving Max something through the bars, and judging by Max's tail wag, it was probably food.

"What are you feeding him?" Zane asked suspiciously.

"Food designed for dogs." The boy rolled his eyes dubious stare. "You know - dog food."

"Where did you get it? I hope you don't expect me to pay you back."

"No worries, I wasn't expecting anything back," the boy said. "Besides you don't have a card yet, right?"

"A card?" Zane asked he crouched down to pet Max and examine the round dog food he was eating. He still wasn't sure what to make of this whole roommate arrangement, especially the part where he fed Max.

"Yeah, we don't use money on this island. The currency used is Super Points, or SP for short, which is processed by something resembling a debit card. We get a weekly allowance and there are ways to make more by completing missions," his roommate said matter-of-factly. "My name's Rick, by the way. I figure if we're to be roommates we may as well get along." He offered his hand.

Zane eyed his hand warily but couldn't find a fault in his words so took it in a firm shake. "I'm Zane."

"I take it you aren't much of a social type," Rick said with a faint smile. "I've already decided you're on the good guys' side though."

Zane raised a questioning eyebrow. As far as he was concerned, he was on neither side. "Based on what?'

"You having a dog. And you obviously care for it a lot. I can't picture a villain doing that."

"What?" Zane stared in disbelief at the boy and his tremendously flawed logic. Seems like being a good judge of character wasn't required for training superheroes. "If you say so," Zane added with a shrug, uninterested in pointing out how gullible the boy sounded. 

Rick glanced at a watch on his hand and cursed. "We're going to be late for class if you don't hurry up and get ready."

"We?"

"Yes, we. Since you're my roommate we have the same classes. Because Metas are frequently dropped in at random times during the year, there's no set orientation for new arrivals, so they are paired with roommates that have their same exact schedule."

"So...these classes, are they like normal school classes?" Zane asked with a slight scowl. He particularly hated going to school and often skipped until the orphanage was contacted for his poor attendance.

"You're a Meta now, pretty much nothing is normal again. Especially not our classes. We're being trained to be superheroes after all."

Zane hardly resisted rolling his eyes. "What's our first class, then?"

"Super Branding."

"What?"

"It's where we learn how to take control of a situation when civilians are involved; you know, saying the right things to make them calm, also how to talk to media and branding ourselves so that our very appearance instills hope and commands respect," Rick replied as if he was talking about the most important thing in the world.

"It just sounds like we learn how to manipulate civilians," Zane pointed out.

Rick thought it over for a second then nodded. "I guess it is. That doesn't mean that it isn't necessary, though."

Zane sighed but he couldn't find a fault in that logic. "I'll go shower and get ready."

Fifteen minutes later, Zane was ready to face his new reality head-on. He didn't have any clothes besides the dirty, worn hand-me-downs he had arrived in, so Rick offered one of his t-shirts and jeans since they were pretty much the same size. Zane figured the boy was only being nice because he viewed it as his duty as a roommate.

Unfortunately, Max wouldn't be allowed in classes, so Zane made sure to refill his water bowl (which Rick also bought), and took one last look at him in his cage. He wasn't sure if Max was house-trained and he didn't want to risk him being sent away for trashing the room.

"Has no one ever tried to fly over the walls?" Zane asked as he eyed the imposing walls that boxed in the large campus in a bowl shape. Sure, even for a helicopter it would take a certain expertise to reach that height, but for a flying meta, it shouldn't take that much effort.

"Rumor goes that Zellio tried." Rick paused for dramatic effect, and seeing Zane's questioning gaze, he raised an eyebrow. "You don't know who Zellio is?"

"No idea."

"Where the hell have you come from? Mars?!"

"Nowhere that interesting," came Zane's solemn reply.

"I'll say," Rick shook his head before continuing. "Zellio is clocked as the fastest flyer there has ever been. He was mentored in the Clifton Academy and the story goes, on the very first day he tried to fly over the walls with his supersonic flight, thinking there was no way any of the attendants could catch him. Well, he ran into something and was shocked unconscious. He fell out of the sky and was caught by an attendant." Zane's eyes widened. "There's been a lot of theories," Rick added, "but the most agreed on is that there's some sort of barrier over the walls."

Zane let out a deep breath. "It doesn't bother you that we're essentially trapped here?"

Rick's face hardened. "The reality is we're a threat to normal people until we learn to properly control our powers." His face softened again and he adopted a grin. "What's your power, anyway?"

"Nothing that interesting," Zane said absentmindedly, still thinking about his first sentence and the truth in it. Zane knew he was a threat to civilians better than anyone after almost killing someone to save Max. He could regret it all he wanted, but he wouldn't stop it from happening unless he learned to keep his power in check. 

"Aw, don't be like tha-"

Zane looked up in surprise as Rick's body suddenly flew backward as if he had been shot out of a slingshot. Three boys stood with grins, with one levitating with his fist outstretched - presumably as a result of punching Rick. They looked past Zane and snickered as Rick regained his feet with blood dripping from his nose.

"Heyo Ricky buddy," one of the trio who wore an obnoxious mohawk and black leather clothes cooed. "I got some new moves I wanna try on ya. You don't mind right?"

Zane stepped back so they would have a clear path. He wasn't keen to involve himself in something he knew nothing about. Besides, he was positive that despite them being on a pathway away from the main buildings, there was surveillance set up so that the 'wardens' could step in if they pleased. Bullying couldn't be very high on the superhero molding agenda.

Mohawk and a short fellow who had milky green eyes seemed to accept his indifference as they walked past, but the third guy with them stopped in front of him and stooped down to regard him with an air of false superiority. 

The guy was as massive as a gorilla and as ugly as an ogre. Fitting for a meathead in Zane's opinion.

"Are you his friend?" the ogre asked with his offensive breath lashing Zane right in his face.

"Roomate," Zane replied, managing to meet the boy's eyes evenly.

Zane could immediately tell from the crease in his forehead the ogre didn't like that. Like a predator in the wild, he wanted people to avert their eyes and mentally submit to him so he could feel like he was some sort of alpha. Unfortunately for him, Zane hated submission.

"A roommate with some attitude," the ogre said with a sneer, turning to his friends who were in the middle of kicking Rick in the stomach. "Maybe we oughta fix him up too." Out of seemingly nowhere, the ogre whipped back around, swinging a meaty fist in one meaty--fast motion.

Luckily, Zane hadn't moved his eyes from the ogre once he saw him tensing up. He had countless experience in streetfights that he was often guilty of initiating to let off steam, but as he ducked under the fist, the wind that followed the large extremity told him this wasn't like any punch he'd felt before. Zane staggered back from his crouch, putting space between himself and his attacker. A glance at the ogre's face told him that talking was not an option.

He was no longer just annoyed, he was embarrassed at his sneak attack failing, and meatheads weren't exactly known for talking things out in the first place.

A quick scan showed hardly anyone was outside, but the few that were seemed to be ignoring this instance of Rick getting battered by two people at once, and Zane facing off against someone almost triple his size. That -and the fact that these three stooges were brave enough to do this out in the open, told Zane no help was coming, be it from staff or fellow prisoners.

Zane focused back on the ogre that seemed about ready to charge. He hesitated for a second, remembering how it turned out last time he used his powers on a human. However, the image of the charging ogre with a frothing mouth quickly dispelled any notions of thinking of him as human and Zane raised his hand, mentally making an invisible blockage, like he had done to save Max's life.

Perhaps it was a mix of adrenaline or willingly using his powers, but Zane felt like he knew exactly what to do, as if the telekinesis was just another muscle of his that he could flex at will. His fascination was quickly interrupted by a sharp pain in the head as the ogre smashed through the invisible barricade. Zane fell to a knee as the ogre slowed, confusion rippling through his features. He'd felt resistance but saw nothing and his mind was trying to wrap itself around the anomaly.

Zane stood up and decided that he couldn't try to downright overpower this boy without risking killing him, if he was even powerful enough to do so. Instead, he'd focus on a weaker part. With the ogre still standing there dumbfounded, Zane once again threw his hand forward, and this time, the tendril of force slammed into the ogre's legs. 

Like Zane had hoped, the ogre's legs buckled and his face married the ground with a resounding smack. His friends, who had still been having fun using Rick as a punching bag, turned and their mouths practically dropped open at the sight. They joined their downed friend's side, looking at Zane with a mixture of confusion and hatred. 

You'd think he started it. 

People were starting to stop to watch from a safe distance and Zane decided he wouldn't shy away from the attention. If fighting was really something that was allowed here, he needed to make a public statement to avoid finding himself in this situation again.

"What did you do?" Mohawk asked, his voice no longer as sure as it was a moment ago when he had the upper hand. 

Instead of audibly responding, Zane planted his feet and focused on the annoyance he felt at being roped into whatever this nonsense was. Sergeant Lane had said intense emotion was what caused inexperienced Metas to lose control; which meant, that it was kind of like fuel to the flame, reaching a level that amateurs couldn't control. Hypothetically, if the emotion wasn't too intense, maybe he could control it.

That's what he hoped anyway.

Mohawk and Green Eyes braced themselves, putting up their fists in shaky defensive stances. They had no idea what to expect and it made them antsy and fearful. 

As they should be.

Zane pushed both hands forward this time, almost feeling the tendrils of force as they snaked outward and propelled the trio into the air. The fallen ogre barely got off the ground, but he skidded a few feet across it while his partners, Mohawk and Green Eyes, were sent soaring into the air before landing on either side of their ogre friend, creating webs in the ground from the hard impact.

Zane bit back a smile and kept a blank face, but he couldn't hide his thoughts from his own mind.

That was pretty damn cool.