Super Powereds: Year 4

by Hayes, Drew

  Mary could feel dozens of uncertainties racing through Vince and Roy’s minds, but both simply shook their heads. The rules were laid out; any questions they asked now would just be to stall, waiting for nerves or fear to vanish. Both had seen enough combat to know that was never going to happen. The only thing that would diminish if they waited was their courage.

  “I think we know everything we need to,” Mary said.

  “Fine by me. Then, as a professor of the Lander Hero Certification Program, I officially announce that this match has begun.” Professor Cole adjusted her footing as she raised her blade. “Come and show me what you’ve learned.”

  117.

  Like a screamed swear in church, the mood of the entire room instantly changed. Casual conversations fell silent, finger foods lay forgotten on their miniature plates, and bodies shifted in their chairs to try and get the best view possible of the pertinent television screen.

  Not every HCP had the exact same tests; often the curriculum was left in the hands of the professors and dean. However, there were certain aspects that had to be incorporated at specific milestones, and offering students the chance to fight their teachers at this time each year was one such requirement. They couldn’t force the battles, though. It had to simply be an option. Seeing who went for it, and why, was often as telling as the fights themselves. It wasn’t that the best students took on the professors; it was more a matter of seeing who was self-aware enough to choose the path that suited them best. Knowledge of one’s own strengths and weaknesses was easily more important for a Hero than raw power.

  When students did elect to fight their teachers, however, the battles were exceptional entertainment for those watching: three seniors with youth and ambition on their side against a combat-hardened Hero who was usually past their physical prime. While their victories were rare, students almost always put on a good show before their defeat. Even resulting in elimination, it was often in these battles that some students secured their internships, whether they knew it or not.

  Professor Cole was an interesting choice. She was well-suited to taking on multiple combatants, which made her seem like someone to avoid, but on the other hand, her power was at least somewhat straightforward. There was no shifting of form or invisible forces to contend with. If they could overpower her, they could claim victory. Of course, overpowering the Hero once called Seamstress was no easy matter, even if she wasn’t quite as fast as she’d been in her earlier years.

  Dean Blaine could hear his own voice speaking, yet for the life of him he couldn’t tell what he was saying. Those words were coming out on autopilot, as every ounce of his true attention turned with the rest of the room to see the spectacle unfolding on-screen. He was about to see three children he’d had a hand in shaping test their skills against a veteran warrior.

  Moments like these were why he’d become an educator in the first place.

  * * *

  The plan, if one could be generous enough to call it that, was simple. Since telekinetically grabbing Professor Cole wouldn’t do much to stop her pseudo-limbs from attacking, Mary would instead try to neutralize as many of the tentacle-like bandages as possible from a distance, allowing Vince and Roy to get in close enough to fight Professor Cole in melee. Even then, they knew she’d have the upper hand, but between Roy’s assault and Vince’s electricity, they hoped to overpower her. After all, Roy could withstand quite a high voltage before he passed out, so at the very worst Vince could release a wide blast that would be impossible to dodge.

  At least, they hoped it would be impossible.

  No sooner had Professor Cole issued her challenge than Roy and Vince ran forward, the former a few steps in the lead. Professor Cole’s bandages began to rise, their tips curled around a myriad of weaponry, but a few scant inches from her body they struck an unseen wall and were unable to rise any higher.

  “Telekinetically pinning me in. Smart, but why not try and grab my entire body?”

  “Because Mary already knows you’re too damn slippery to keep hold of.” Roy finished closing the gap between him and the professor, bat raised high as he took a measured swing. From so far back, it was plain that he wasn’t trying to hit her. Instead, the ultra-heavy weapon came dangerously close to the tip of her sword; only an immediate reaction yanked it out of the way in time.

  “Trying to disarm me? Cute. Kudos for knowing I’m too hard to contain, though. After all, who can keep focus on one person from every single angle?”

  Roy felt the grip on his leg as she spoke, a glance down showing him the white cloth tendril woven tightly around his calf. His eyes traced it along the ground, and he realized that she’d somehow managed to inch it along outside of Mary’s notice, sneaking it into position.

  His leg was already beginning to move when Roy heard the crackle from over his shoulder, and it took all he had to repress a cocky grin. She might have been able to counter him, but he’d still managed to distract her long enough for Vince to get in close. Roy readied himself to yank his leg free and attack while Professor Cole was stunned—even if Vince held back she was going to get a little crispy. Those electric attacks were nothing to laugh about; as Vince’s usual sparring partner, Roy knew that better than anyone.

  The blast of bright light came from behind, searing past Roy on a course directly for Professor Cole. It struck dead-on, so close that all the hair on Roy’s neck and arms stood straight up. He seized the opportunity, jerking on the captured leg to rip himself free and capitalize on the chance Vince had bought them.

  Except… her grip hadn’t loosened in the slightest. As Roy tried to pull himself free, the tendril responded by tightening its hold and jerking him upward, dangling him in the air like a rabbit caught in a snare. From his new vantage point, Roy could now see behind some of the layers and bandages Professor Cole had raised, and suddenly he understood what had happened.

  Held in one of her cloth tendrils was a smoking, slightly charred metal dagger. She’d used it as a lightning rod to catch Vince’s attack. While it probably wouldn’t be enough to stop one of his most powerful blasts, it was more than capable of taking a strike meant for stunning. Roy was about to yell to Vince, but before he got the chance he started to move once more.

  “A blatant charge and an electrical assault? You could have done that as sophomores. I told you to show me what you’d learned. If this is the best you can do, if this is the farthest you’ve come, then maybe you don’t belong here.” Professor Cole was swinging Roy around by the ankle, his enhanced endurance likely the only thing keeping his leg attached. Then, all at once, he wasn’t spinning anymore. Instead, he was soaring through the air. It happened so fast that Roy barely registered what was going on. Even as the room zipped by, it took a moment for Roy to put it all together. Professor Cole had thrown him like he was a sack of potatoes. As he tumbled about in midair, Roy caught sight of something that made the indignity of the situation vanish from his mind.

  It wasn’t just that Professor Cole had tossed him away; she’d used him as a weapon. Roy was on a crash course directly for Mary, with no way to stop.

  118.

  “Well now. I assumed the only people who would come my way would be by accident. Given that you’ve got a telepath—in function, if nothing else—that means you picked me. Interesting choice, boys. Dumb, but interesting.” Professor Pendleton’s usual affected air of stoic disinterest had slipped; it was plain to all of them that he was excited to see students walking into his lighted room. Chad understood the sentiment; no matter how strong a Super became, the urge to test one’s limits against other opponents never truly went away.

  “I’m sure Blaine walked you all through the basics: knock me out, keep me held for three minutes, make me give up, or score a hypothetical death blow. I really shouldn’t have to say this, but take care to keep those death blows purely hypothetical. Nobody wants the headache of trying to replace a professor midyear if one of you gets a lucky shot. Everyone good with that?”

&nbs
p; “Works for us,” Alex said, while Chad and Shane merely nodded in reply. The sound of locking doors was an unsettling accompaniment to the widening smile on Professor Pendleton’s face, although it had nothing on what came once the room was secured.

  “Bring it on.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than Professor Pendleton seemed to explode. His body vanished; in its place a massive cloud of white fog flooded the room in all directions. It had taken mere seconds for everything to be engulfed, including the three students. Visibility was drastically diminished, not that there was really anything to see in the first place. After all, they knew exactly where their opponent was—he was everywhere around them.

  With no other immediate recourse, Chad swung a quick punch through the air, attempting to disperse the mist. There was definitely a swirl through the fog, but whether or not he’d managed to cause any damage was impossible to discern. Nearby, he heard Shane moving his arm, no doubt trying to slice through the cloud with his shadows. While big enough strikes might be enough to disperse the fog, without Shane knowing the exact location of the other two, he would have to confine his attacks to the area near his body.

  “A near perfect defense,” Chad said, taking another few swings. If he could figure out something with the air density, perhaps there was a way to at least annoy the professor.

  “Nothing is perfect.” The voice was everywhere; it felt like being trapped in an echo. “And I’m not stupid, either. You think I don’t know what you’re hoping for? I watched all the tapes of this year’s trials multiple times, and I can feel Alex concentrating.”

  On cue, Alex let out a yelp, followed by a quick thud as he fell to the ground. The air around them chuckled. “I do have an offense as well. I’m not going to let you just stand around and get your focus.”

  It was expected: Professor Pendleton obviously wasn’t going to just permit himself to be defeated, although they had hoped he wouldn’t catch on to their strategy quite so soon. They needed to do something, to think of a counter, otherwise the situation would spiral out of control—and that was assuming it hadn’t already, which even Chad would admit was optimistic.

  The first thing they needed was information. Chad knew that Professor Pendleton, the Hero formerly called Wisp and graduate of the Class of Legends, could attack people within the fog he transformed his body into. That much was easily discernible with a cursory knowledge of the Hero’s history. What he wasn’t sure of was how the attacks were managed. Concentrated blasts of air, altered densities, there were no end to the ways he might be striking at Alex. Until they understood how they were being attacked, there was no hope of fighting back.

  Chad dashed over to Alex, moving more swiftly than he rightly should have when physically surrounded by the enemy. At least Professor Pendleton seemed set on neutralizing Alex more than him or Shane, which permitted them some freedom to move about. Alex was still on the ground when Chad drew near enough to see him, rubbing the back of his head.

  “What happened?”

  “No idea.” Alex rose to his feet tentatively, waiting for an unseen force to knock him back down. “I was trying to focus, and something hit me in the back of the knees and the top of my chest at the same time. By the time I knew I was falling, it was too late to stop myself.”

  Striking from two directions at once, and with enough physical force to be felt. Chad had an inkling of an idea about how Professor Pendleton’s offense worked, but he needed confirmation before they could proceed. Plus, if he was wrong, it was better to find out quickly and start working with correct information.

  “Alex, focus again,” Chad instructed. “Push back the fog around you first then work on consolidating it.”

  “You know he can hear us, right?” Alex swept his hands through the mist, which swirled at his side.

  “Of course he can, but he’ll still have to attack if you present a threat. Let me handle it from there.” Chad stepped a hair closer to Alex, making certain he wouldn’t miss a single part of what was going on.

  Alex’s eyes closed and he lifted his hands. Dealing with something this insubstantial and huge must have demanded tons of concentration; Chad wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a telekinetic interact with something as intangible as mist before. It was a tactic only Alex might be able to use, and it was no simple task for him.

  “Decent plan.” The voice whispered in Chad’s ear this time, so soft he knew no one else could hear it. “But Alex isn’t the only target. I have to eliminate you all, so maybe I’ll start with the shadow-wielder instead.”

  From across the room, Shane let out a harsh grunt. His heart rate was increasing, and though Chad couldn’t make out the exact details, something was clearly assaulting him. Seconds later, the sound of fracturing bone reached Chad’s enhanced hearing, and while Shane didn’t cry out, he did make a disturbing noise in the back of his throat.

  All the while, Alex was still there, eyes closed and untouched, as the fog near him slowly began to recede. It was a diversion, plain and simple. Professor Pendleton messed with people professionally; that was what Subtlety Heroes did. They dominated not through physical superiority, but wiles and tactics.

  “A little heartless, aren’t you, Chad?” The voice was still there, still whispering, much as Chad would have liked to ignore it. “Are you really going to let me eliminate your best friend from the trial? Even if you and Alex manage to defeat me, Shane is out. Or maybe you want that to happen. Three points per person instead of two. That is the more pragmatic approach, and pragmatic is your specialty.”

  “You’re wrong.” Chad kept his eyes trained on Alex, even as more sounds from Shane flooded his ears. “The reason I’m not running over to Shane isn’t because I don’t care. It’s because I know just how capable he is. You think you’re going to beat him before Alex forces your hand? I think you’re underestimating my friend by quite a healthy margin.”

  There was no doubt about it, the fog was moving away from Alex. It was slow going, but an inch at a time he was getting control over the cloudy form of their teacher. Then, just as a real separation began to occur, Chad saw it: barreling through the mist—almost invisible if one didn’t have their senses turned up past human limitations—a fist. A physical, actual fist.

  It struck Alex in the nose, vanishing the moment it made impact even as Alex reeled back in pain. The focus was gone, and Alex was bleeding, but Chad smiled all the same. His guess had been right after all.

  “You can reform parts of your body at will. That’s how you attack in the fog. Hitting from blind spots, targeting tender areas… I bet you can even kill someone with enhanced endurance if you reached down into their lungs. Too bad that’s off the table, because you’re going to dearly wish you had an easy way to dispatch us.” Chad didn’t bother turning toward Shane. In a room this small, there was no way he wouldn’t hear the command.

  “Shane! Follow my voice and get over here. It’s time we started fighting back.”

  119.

  It was barely enough, but Mary managed to throw a telekinetic shield in front of Roy a few seconds before impact. Although he smashed through it, the obstacle altered his trajectory, sending Roy crashing into a nearby wall rather than directly into his teammate. He stood as quickly as he could, shaking off small flecks of debris and taking stock of their situation.

  Things looked bad. Professor Cole was still standing there, sword in hand, untouched by their first round of effort. Meanwhile, Vince was limping from a cut on his leg and Mary had a dagger in her shoulder, wounds they’d no doubt taken while Roy was getting tossed about. She was so damn good at fighting multiple opponents; it’s what her whole strategy was built around. Roy could see no flaws to exploit, no weaknesses they could turn to their advantage. With lethality off the table, they couldn’t go for broke with Mary or Vince unleashing tremendous blasts—not that they’d have lived this long if the match were about killing in the first place. Even now, Professor Cole was waiting for their next attack, giving them a chance to
regroup. She was going easy on them because this was the most they could manage, and Roy hated himself for that. Was he really going to be beaten the same way as a year before? Was this as much as he’d grown?

  They needed to think. They needed to fight smart. Vince might be fearless, but he was about as wily as Roy, which wasn’t saying a lot. And while Mary was bright, she’d usually leaned on Nick for tactical choices when she was the leader. Lacking though they were, it was still obvious they had to try something different. As things stood, they wouldn’t last more than a minute once Professor Cole decided they’d had enough attempts.

  “Vince, give me a cold snap! Mary, try and get me close!” Roy began to run without waiting for confirmation from either of the others. There was no time to hesitate, to let Professor Cole figure out what he’d meant. If they were going to have a shot at even making her sweat, they needed to catch her off guard.

  Roy made it five steps before he felt the chill in the air. Another two, and his panting breaths became visible. Several cloth tendrils clutching weapons tried to interrupt the charge, but these were knocked away by an unseen force as Mary defended him from afar. By the time he was close to Professor Cole, it was so cold the metal of Roy’s bat was sticking to his flesh. Not many people knew that Vince had been working on absorption, but it was clear the training was paying off. He’d managed to drop the room to near-freezing in the span of seconds; now all Roy could do was hope it proved to be enough.