text: [Themes: sci-fi]
  
  You grab an electro-sword, swinging it around as you turn the electricity on. The electro-sword smashes into Sulfuric's head, sending him toppling to the floor. He lets out a pained groan, before sending a spurt of acid at you. You sidestep the acidic blast, as Savian jumps back onto his feet with a roar. You swing your sword again, but he ducks and slams his fist into your chest. You stumble backwards, blindly swinging your sword at him. Your sword smacks into his nose as he lets out a pained yelp, before snarling.
  
  "You're fucking dead, cockroach!" he roars. "This ends now!"
  
  You jab your sword again, but he sidesteps and swings with all his might.
  
  > sidestep his punch and attack
  You remember how Luc acted yesterday, and what led to his downfall. Sulfuric's making the same mistake, and you won't give him nearly as much mercy. You side step his swing as he roars, almost toppling over as his punch fails to land. You grab his neck with your bionic hand and squeeze your metallic fingers around his throat. He grasps, and you him full force to the ground, head first. He flies into the ground, his head smashing into the floor. Teeth fly everywhere as blood splatters your pants. The Doctor strolls forward, drawing a syringe, wearing heavy plastic gloves. He grabs Savian's head, holding his jaws shut to prevent spitting as he jabs the syringe into his arm. He pushes down on the plunger, and lifts Sulfuric up into the air and throws him over his shoulder, walking off. You slowly make your way back to the seat.
  
  > Continue
  You take a seat in the crowd, and watch the few remaining few matches take place. Eventually, the Doctor drags the last combatant off, and the exam finishes. Mr DeVont stands in the center of the circle, clenching a microphone in his hand.
  
  "Students, we have finished. Your numbers have been cut in half, but you've proved yourself. Your training will get harder, but you will grow stronger. You're dismissed. Have a good night."
  
  You stand, walking down the bleachers towards the exit. You've had a long day. Thankfully, you're not too wounded because you mainly used firearms, so you don't need to head to the medical bay. No, you're heading straight towards bed.
  
  > Three Days Later...
  "On my mark!" Doyle shouts.
  
  You stand by the door, waiting. Luc stands next to you, a beanbag shotgun with the weight and heft of a club in his hands. Behind you is Seamus and Shada, with assault rifles loaded with rubber ammunition in their hands.
  
  "Ready!"
  
  Six other students are inside the small apartment you're about to break into. Four are playing as the "terrorists", while two unfortunate bastards are acting as hostages. Your job, obviously, is to take out the terrorists and rescue the survivors.
  
  "Steady!"
  
  You squeeze the handle of the electro-sword tightly, switching the electricity on. Your left hand squeezes tightly on your pistol's handle.
  
  "Mark!"
  
  Luc boots open the door, raising his shotgun. He fires, stepping inside, firing another shot. You move in quickly, as a bullet slams into Luc's head and knocks him into the wall. You raise your pistol, shooting one of the terrorist's in the head. You charge inside, as another terrorist charges you, firing a beanbag shotgun. You sidestep the shot, jabbing your electro-sword into his chest. He collapses backwards, shuddering, as Seamus and Shada enter, taking out another terrorist. The last guy, a skinny guy called Teach, who raises his revolver to one of his hostages' head.
  
  "Stay back," he says, staring at Shada and Seamus, as you quickly duck behind a couch.
  
  "Dude... you're not going to kill all of us. Just let go of him, and I'll shoot you in the chest, not the dick or face," Seamus says.
  
  You creep around the couch, aiming your pistol at his hand. You fire, the bullet smacking into his arm, dropping it. You fire again, hitting him in the head, sending him tumbling to the ground.
  
  "That's a success," Sergeant Doyle shouts. "Justin, Tomas, Wang, Teach, head to your next class. Seamus, Shada, Mia, Luc, stay behind."
  
  "Son of a bitch," Luc moans. "My face!"
  
  "Get up, you big baby!" you say, kicking him as he slowly stands.
  
  Sgt Doyle walks in, a cigarette clenched in his teeth.
  
  "Are we in trouble?" Seamus asks.
  
  "Absolutely. Confess now and you won't be punished as severely," Sgt Doyle replies.
  
  "You're bluffing We've done nothing wrong that you know of,"
  
  "Touché. I'm really here to talk to you about certain... advantages you have. It's come to my attention that the various teachers have been picking protégés to teach so they'll be able to get them jobs with their contacts. Shattered Mask is picking the Supers who are best at fighting to work for the Black Eagle Mercenary Corp, Four's picking Supers with useful abilities for the League of Crime, Mr DeVont's picking spies for M&J Inc. and any day now Dead Eye's going to get his beautiful ass into action and start hooking up his favorites to do contract work for the MacCarthy Family."
  
  "So... you're going to get us a job?"
  
  "Not quite. I have an.. associate. This associate could use forces. Specifically, an elite squad to perform certain objectives."
  
  "Could you be anymore vague?" you ask.
  
  "I have someone willing to give you money. The details don't matter for know. You all performed well in the exam... some surprisingly," he says, looking at Seamus.
  
  "I try to please," he says.
  
  "I'm offering you the chance to work as my protégés, working as a single unit. I've cleared all of your Geometry and Trigonometry classes. I'll make sure you all receive a passing grade in each of them. All I need is your full dedication and hard work. Now, can you do that?"
  
  "Yes, sir!" you bark in response.
  
  "Sure," Seamus nods, as Luc and Shada nod eagerly.
  
  "Good. I'd expect nothing less of you. Be at the shooting range for each of them. Got it?"
  
  "Yes, sir," you all reply.
  
  "Good," Doyle says, turning and walking off.
  
  "Well, that was weird," Seamus says.
  
  "I'm glad we have future job prospects. I was worried we'd end of as some private goons to a drug kingpin."
  
  "This is exciting. Being sent all over the world to see exotic peoples and presumably murder the fuck out of them," Shada exclaims.
  
  "It'll be good," you say. "Come on, let's head to the next class."
  
  > The Next Day...
  Luc pulls you in closer, his hands exploring your bodies as yours do the same.
  
  "We probably shouldn't be doing this," Luc says. "I mean, I'm in a stall in the girl's bathroom. If I'm found, I might be kicked out."
  
  "We're teenagers, Luc. DeVont knew this shit would happen. For fuck's sake, the bedroom's are mixed gender."
  
  You pull Luc in again, your fingers on one hand tracing his protruding ab muscles as the other drifts further south. You hear the bell ring, but you're too focused in to give it any consideration. Unfortunately, Luc is not.
  
  "Mia, we have class," Luc says, pushing him off you with a laugh.
  
  "Aw, seriously? It's fucking calculus. It doesn't matter. Plus, we'll already be late. Might as well be a little later."
  
  "Fine," Luc says, as he pulls off his shirt. His massive hands fumble with your bra clasp, as you smile.
  
  "Having trouble?" you giggle.
  
  "Hey, I... oh shit, aren't we supposed to have a class now?" Luc says.
  
  "Yeah, Calculus. And we're blowing it. Speaking..."
  
  "As much as it pains me to cut you off, we swapped the Calculus classes for Sergeant Boyle's classes."
  
  "Oh, fuck!" you reply.
  
  You quickly pull your top back on and button up your trousers as Luc gets dressed. You rush out of the stalls, heading straight for Sgt Doyle's training room. You arrive there quickly, your faces red and sweaty.
  
  "Where the fuck were you?" Sgt Doyle asks angrily.
  
  "I'm really sorry, we forgot we had class..."
  
  "Forgot? You think forgetting is a reasonable excuse? For... Luc, your pants are unzipped. And you're... there's no non-weird way to say this. You've a hard on, Luc."
  
  "Oh, putain!" Luc says, quickly covering his crotch.
  
  "Alright, given the circumstances you... were caught up in, you get one free pass. Never again, though," Doyle says, clearly struggling not to burst out laughing while trying to stay serious.
  
  "Yes, sir," you both say.
  
  "Alright, let's get this show on the road," Doyle says. "Everyone, the group needs specific roles. What roles do you guys want?"
  
  "Oh, oh, something with explosives!" Shada says.
  
  "Alright, let me look... OK, you're getting the highest scores in the explosives-based classes. Done. I'll talk to Mr DeVont and try schedule you a few more of them. Who else?"
  
  "Sniper?" Seamus asks.
  
  "Done. Same for you," Doyle says. "Mia? Luc? Why the fuck am I even asking you, Luc? I'll have you set up as a brawler, set you up with extra serum doses and hand-to-hand combats, as well as a few close-range classes with a shotgun to level it out."
  
  "Let me look through your classes... ah, you're excelling at swordsmanship. Swords are improving in regards to Supers. They can easily be made of potent materials, used in melee, used silently in stealth and in a world of super-speed and flight, can be more useful then guns in certain situations. We'll get you some extra swords skills, and I'll have a blade fashioned for you."
  
  "Perfect," you smile.
  
  Alright, I need you to get outfitted in VR gear, and we'll start our first mission," Sgt Doyle says. "Start getting rigged up."
  
  > An Hour Later...
  "The year is 1915. You are a unit of Australian soldiers attempting to capture Gallipolli from the Ottoman Empire. Your objective is to get off this beach and capture a nearby artillery site to allow your boats to move forward. There's a machine gun post just up the beach pinning you down. You need to work together as a unit to survive," Sgt Doyle's voice booms out of the clouds. You hold a rifle, lying on the stony beach as your stare up at the machine gun post.
  
  "So, what's our plan?" Luc asks.
  
  "None of this is real. Surely we can just leave, right? Get out of the VR simulation and..." Seamus says, before yelping.
  
  "There's electrodes attached to your neck that will go off when you die. That was level three. It's on ten for death."
  
  "Oh, for fuck's..." Shada says. "Alright, we need to think. What's our plan?"
  
  "There's a machine gun post up the hill. We need to take it out, and then the artillery post will be easy to take out," you say.
  
  "That's a goal, not a plan, cyborg," Shada says, lowering her head as the bullets slam into the stones that have been hastily pushed up into a wall.
  
  You have multiple plans. You could try charge them, using superior numbers to wipe them out. You could charge sideways by yourself, causing a distraction to allow Seamus a change to snipe the gunner with his rifle. You could just lob grenades at the machine gun post, which would work to some degree. Finally, you could just spread out, using your rifles to take out the gunners, and play that odds that you're not getting wiped out.
  
  > charge them
  You burst out of cover, charging up the beach. The machine gun blazes, and you collapse to the ground, as electricity buzzes through you. You fall to the ground as the shock overtakes you, yelping in pain.
  
  "You're finished, kids. Take off the helmet."
  
  > take off your helmet
  You pull off your helmet, looking at Sergeant Doyle.
  
  "You need a lot more work, kids," he sighs.
  
  "I know," you say, looking down, as Seamus opens his mouth to say a comeback, before closing it again.
  
  The bell rings.
  
  "Alright, get to your next class," Sergeant Doyle says. "Work harder. You need it."
  
  > Several Months Later...
  The next few days are similar. You spend a lot of time either running training courses or VR simulations with the rest of your friends. You all quickly improve on your designated positions. You're given a Darwinium Blade, and you practice with it daily, as well as a wide array of pistols, machine pistols and submachine guns.
  
  These days quickly turn to weeks, which turn once again to months. Slowly, the year mark creeps up on you, and with that, graduation.
  
  You and your friends grow closer as a unit, as you spend the majority of the day in each other's company, learning to train and work as a unit. A level of trust builds up between the group, and you know you have a solid group of friends. As wel as this, your relationship with Luc continues, growing to be fairly strong and stable, or as close as it can get to such in the minds of unstable, hormone-riddled teens.
  
  > Continue
  You walk into the combat hall, your assault rifle raised. You squeeze the trigger, firing a long burst of rubber at the student at the other end. You charge forward, unloading your clip at her, before diving behind one of the tables spread about the room, kicking the leg away so it can act as a shield. Bullets thump into the table, as you reload your gun. Seamus and Shada lie on the ground off to the right of you, both groaning from painful shots to the jaw, as Luc dives to the table next to you.
  
  "How many shots?" you ask.
  
  Luc closes his eyes and waits.
  
  "He's out," Luc says.
  
  You draw your sword, charging from behind the table. You see one of them reloading, and swing your blade, knocking her the ground with a yelp. Luc appears on the other table, firing at the last student behind cover, a beanbag smashing into his head and sending him tumbling to the ground.
  
  "Alright, that's a win for the blue team," Sgt Doyle says. "Blue Team, you're doing well. You'll probably pass tomorrow if you fight like you just did. Red Team, pathetic. Ashley, don't reload out in the open. Take cover. If you don't improve, and do it fast, you're not going to pass tomorrow. Frank, get your head lower. Li and Spicer, never have a split up charge. Alright, get out of there."
  
  You nod, throwing down your weapon. You turn and begin walking towards your room. It takes about twenty minutes to arrive there, before you walk in, collapsing onto your bed.
  
  "So... I feel we're kind of skipping over what happened in the trust exercise earlier."
  
  Earlier, there was a trust exercise when Sgt Dolye pumped you full of truth serum and had you admit a secret to allow all of you to trust each other more. It was... a mixed success. You learned Luc had a very bad childhood due to his stepdad's... violent behavior, Shada is terrified of being splashed with water, the group learned of your guilt at surviving when the Crimson Cape killed your family, and that tragic news was easily topped when...
  
  "No one needs to talk about how..." Seamus starts.
  
  "... you have a foot fetish?"
  
  "Oh god," Seamus moans, putting his head in his hands.
  
  "I thought I'd have to get some lingerie, but it turns out a pretty pair of heels is all I need," Shada giggles.
  
  "Just stop," Seamus says.
  
  "Do I have pretty feet?" Shada asks, going from mocking to curious.
  
  "I'm also curious. Is it... like the painted nails?" you ask.
  
  "Hey guys, we have a test tomorrow. Remember? And if we fail we'll have our memories stolen? Let's go practice and train!"
  
  "Speaking of which, are we all set for tomorrow?" Luc asks.
  
  "Is it first thing in the morning?" you ask.
  
  "Yeah, so I think this is our last night together. Well, all of us, I mean," Shada says.
  
  "We should get drunk. Or high," Seamus says.
  
  "We have neither drugs nor drink," Luc points out.
  
  "Also, it's not exactly a good idea to go into tomorrow with no sleep and a hangover so brutal it'll kill us. We should probably head to bed," you say, lying down on the bed.
  
  "Mia's right. I'll see you in the morning," Seamus says, putting his pillow over his head.
  
  "Aw, really?" Shada says. "I bet I can score some nail polish and get my feet nice and..."
  
  "Shut up!" Seamus complains.
  
  "Only teasing, Irish. Still, if you're up for it, we could head off... there's a few empty dorm rooms since a shit ton of students have gone home. I bet we could... well, you know."
  
  Seamus tosses his pillow aside and hops out of bed, grinning.
  
  "I'm up for that," he says, and the two disappear outside the door. Luc chuckles as he watches them leave, before nervously glancing at you. He half opens his mouth, seemingly wanting to ask something, before turning away and climbing into his bunk. You realize he's probably right. You guys aren't exactly meant to be. Best to get some sleep and be prepared for tomorrow.
  
  > Continue
  You stand in the bleachers among the few remaining students, watching the teachers assemble in the center of the hall where you once smashed Savian Monroe into the floor, except where once was open ground, now there's a circle in the center of the hall, with large walls, put up to either side of there the people would stand to act as a building, with the insides furnished. The open roof allows you to gaze inside at the fight, where you see weapons hidden throughout, to add an urban feel to the fight.
  
  "Good evening, students. What we are going to do today for our final exam is simple. We are going to do something similar to your first exam. Some of you have formed groups, and you will face a group of identical sizes. Others will fight solo. The rules are the same as last time. This is the end of your long, and hopefully enlightening time at Prometheus Academy. You could end the day with a prosperous future or with all memories of here gone, so fight well. Best of luck."
  
  With that, Mr DeVont leads the teachers to the bleachers, leaving only the Doctor to stand at the sidelines. The first few names are called, as two monstrous Supers face off. The battle is fast and brutal. You sit there, watching as two gargantuan brutes charge at each other, one covered in scales with a forked tongue and the second covered in tumor-like lumps made of bone. Scales rams into Bony, attempting to bite into his flesh, but only actually succeeding in biting bone. Bony rams a fist into Scales' throat, and he flops to the floor. You feel a sense of Déjà vu as you watch the Doctor walk forward, jamming a needle into Scales' soft throat, before requesting two guards to help him drag the beast off.
  
  There's a few other short battles, where students have short, fierce battles that end quickly enough when a simple, small mistake is quickly capitalized on, ending the battle. Few even venture into the "buildings" to get weapons. Finally, it gets to you.
  
  "Seamus O'Riley, Shada Melik, Mia Min-Taylor, Luc Petit, step down to the stage. Lawrence Bender, Sally Menke, Andrezej Sekula, Thara Richtofen, same for you," Mr DeVont shouts.
  
  "Alright, let's do this," Luc says, cracking his neck.
  
  "There was no need to do that other than to show off," Seamus complains.
  
  "Alright, which battle plan do we go with?" Shada asks.
  
  "Wait to see what they're doing. Then, I'll decide," you say.
  
  "I'm cool with that," Shada says.
  
  You walk down to the middle of the arena, standing between the two "buildings". The others stand on the other side. At the lead is Thara Richtofen, a Super with some seriously terrifying abilities in regards to fire, and a cruel and vicious personality to match. You'll definitely have a hard fight again. You all line up, preparing to fight. You take a defensive stance, waiting patiently.
  
  The bell rings.
  
  The other team immediately charge toward you, fists raised. It seems they're going with the aggressive, head-strong strategy, which for someone with flame abilities, isn't the worst tactic. You've practiced three battle strategies extensively. Battle Strategy A, Battle Strategy B, Battle Strategy C and Battle Strategy D.
  
  -A: Charge the enemy as a solidified unit, quickly taking them down and securing victory.
  
  -B: Retreat as a unit to get weapons to gain a solid advantage over the enemy, securing victory.
  
  -C: Have Luc charge them to create a distraction, giving the rest of you a better chance to get to the weapons, securing victory.
  
  -D: Charge the enemy as a trio, while Seamus leaves to get a firearm, securing victory.
  
  You have to admit, the "securing victory" part doesn't necessarily apply, but still.
  
  > use Strategy A
  "A!" you yell, as the others move into action.
  
  You charge forward, your fists raised with a roar. You burst forward, ducking under a burst of flames before a punch goes for your chest. You dodge it, punching Thara in the side of the head. She stumbles backwards, and you punch her in the stomach, then the head three times. She stumbles, but quickly regains her footing position, although she's bleeding badly from her nose. You watch as Luc flings a girl to the floor head-first, before Thara turns and engulfs him in flames, as he drops to the ground with a scream. Seamus collapses onto the ground next to you, blood covering his face. You launch another punch at Thara's head in an attempt to stop her, but this time she sidesteps your swing and you lose your balance, leaving yourself exposed. Thara's fists explode into balls of flames, before a wall of flames flies from them, straight for you. You regain your footing and attempt to dodge, but the flames engulf you. You feel your skin, char, burn and blister. You let out a pained scream, collapsing backwards. Mercifully, you quickly pass out.
  
  > Lose consciousness
  "Mia! Mia! Wake up, sweetie!"
  
  You open your eyes and are immediately blinded by bright white lights. You raise your hand over your eyes to block it out, and see Gertrude standing above you.
  
  "What... what happened?"
  
  "Men broke into our house... they injected us all with drugs to knock us out, and... and they killed Datu. The bastards killed my husband. They could've killed any of us, and they killed him for no reason."
  
  "What?"
  
  "They just killed him."
  
  You stare at Gertrude, feeling utterly helpless.
  
  "How long have I been out?"
  
  "You were gone for almost a year, Mia! Do you not remember what happened?"
  
  You shake your head, scared and confused.
  
  > Continue
  Sheep
  
  Life is hard. As you adapt to your new life in the foster home, you realize you don't like it. You don't want a normal, bland job. You find school hard and boring. You can't play sports because of your injuries, and being called "Eypatch" doesn't help your reputation with guys. You just continue life.