Marcel arrives back at the transport and spends an hour and a half filling out after-action reports, investigation reports, and thinking about how he never expected to do so much paperwork as a hero. Once he finishes that, he waits another hour while practicing his aura control. With Wasteland General's training, he can imbue mana into larger objects now. Before, the biggest he could do was a baseball, but now his limit is something about the size of a shoe. He tried once to fill a dagger, but found that the mass of the object wasn't the problem, but the length. He could fill a golf ball with no issue, but if you take that same golf ball and flatten it out longer than nine inches, and suddenly it is more of a problem. Apparently, this is a problem all augmenters have, and not solely Marcel's; the more surface area an object has, the more difficult it becomes. When he realized this, he asked Ziba to purchase a small cubical training object for augmenters. It is a hard glassy semi-transparent substance, made from silica. The cube is made in such a way to be small, but filled with millions of small pores inside, making it very light. This also meant it has an insane amount of surface area, despite its small size. A skilled augmenter can usually imbue half or two thirds of the cube, but Marcel can barely manage a grape sized amount.
Once their patrol is done, the three return to the transport and find Marcel training.
"Good on you, kid." General says. "No one even needed to tell you to train, and you're doing it anyway."
"Didn't get too bored did ya?" Popup asks, plopping down in her seat.
"No, I've just been training. I finished those reports too." Oasis King sits in his seat, and hands their own copies of the paperwork to Popup and Wasteland General. Marcel asks, "See any more monsters?"
Oasis King shakes his head. "No… just-" he takes a deep breath "-a couple dead dogs and a crack in the pips of the water plant."
"We called it in already. Someone will come fix it later today, maybe." General adds, pulling out pens from the glove compartment of the transport. All three immediately start to do their paperwork.
"Might as well get back to training kid. This is gonna take a few." Popup says.
They spend some time doing the paperwork in silence, which is only occasionally broken when Popup asks how to spell a word. Eventually, they finish and are ready to leave.
"Is that it?" Marcel asks.
"What do you mean?" Oasis King wonders.
"Like, that's it? I just assumed it would take longer. More time walking around, talking with people, helping out. We just showed up, killed some monsters, and that was it."
"Yeah, pretty much." Popup says.
"What else would we do?" King asks.
"I don't know. Walk around, ask if anyone needs help?" Marcel suggests.
"That's not what we were paid to do. We can't just go around doing all that. That's what emergency services is for. The police, fire fighters, social worker, they do that. We just kill monsters and fill out paperwork." King says.
"We're hired for specific, dangerous tasks. We're… supplements. Cleaning up the excess mess, not the cause of it." General explains.
"But we can do more, right? There's no rule against it?" Marcel asks.
"Look kid, you're young, hopeful, full of vigor. You wanna go out and save everyone. I get it. But you can't save everyone." King tells him.
"You're young, you'll figure it out." General says. Marcel looks to Popup, who shrugs and nods in response. He sits back and thinks quietly during the drive back to their complex.
Later, in the kitchen, General and Popup are cooking dinner. As General stirs some pasta around a pot, Popup says, "Marcel has been real quiet since we got home. Think he's okay?"
"He'll be fine. I remember when you learned the same thing he is right now. You were mopey all week. The others all gave you space until finally Saul came to give you a kick in the keester."
"I remember." Popup says, cutting carrots and remembering the very literal kick to her butt to force her out of the building to go patrol.
"We'll give him a week, and if he's still mopey, kick em." General says, probably being both metaphorical and literal.
"But he can't go on patrol alone yet. Not for another six months." She points out.
"Details… details. The point is, give em a week, then we figure it out." General waves his hand, tasting the soup broth.
"Right…" She says.
Elsewhere, Oasis King sits in his office, staring at an old picture of himself as a brand-new hero, and his first sidekick, Wasteland General, as young men. Their armor was outdated, even then, bought secondhand, but shiny and bright like new. But it isn't their partnership he thinks about, or how they met. In fact, General isn't on his mind at all. Instead, he thinks about that younger version of himself, when he was strong, and about how weak he was today. His mind turns to that dark night, when his mentor Omar stole King's power away from him, how he left him disabled, weak.
"Foolish old man." He whispers to himself and picks up the picture frame. "It was mine. Rightfully. If it weren't for you… if you had just…" King tightens his grip around the frame, cracking the glass in a spiderweb patter that crawls along the image of young King's face, and slowly begins to approach the image of Wasteland General. King nearly throws the frame across the room in rage, but a knock at the door stops him.
"Sir, it's Marcel. Can I come in?" Marcel asks, waiting behind the door.
King collects himself, placing the frame down so that the new crack cannot be seen from the other side of the desk. "Yes." He says. Marcel walks in. "What's up?"
"I just had a few questions. About everything today."
"Okay, please, sit." King says, and motions to one of the chairs. "What's on your mind. Still thinking about what I said on the bus?"
"Uh, no sir. I'm still thinking about that. But I had a few questions about our investigation before we found the lindwyrms." Marcel explains.
"Oh?" King asks. Marcel proceeds to ask several questions, to Kings surprise, about his actions during the investigations, as well as the questions he asked the citizens. Overall, Marcel wanted to know King's thought process through the whole ordeal, and proceeded to ask a few hypotheticals. King, surprised by the questions, forgets about his earlier anger, and becomes invested in Marcel's question, going into as much detail as he can. Before either of them realize it, King is telling stories about past adventures, and Marcel is hanging onto every word. Hours pass, night falls. The two of them are brought dinner by General and Popup, who ate without them when they never showed up. Midnight rolls around before King finally realizes the time, and tells Marcel he should get some sleep. Marcel tries to apologize, but King stops him, saying he enjoyed the talk, and it was exactly what he needed. And so, Marcel leaves, and King is alone in his office again…
The next day, Marcel doesn't join any teams for patrol. Instead, he is assigned to assist team three, an all sidekicks team, for advanced recon training. This team is one of four all sidekick teams that work for Oasis King, and specializes in rural combat. They are usually sent to handle lower importance jobs, and join standard patrols, meaning their schedule rarely changes, unlike teams one and two, who operate with King and do dynamic patrols like Marcel did the day before. However, today isn't their patrol day, so they are training. On the team are its four normal members: HotJack, a rugged man named Jackson; Melodie, a young woman named Sara; Oasis Prince, a teenager about Marcel's age named Johnny; and Crasher, a man who seems to be in his late thirties named Kevin. Leading the team is Melodie, who is also responsible for the day's training.
"Listen up everyone, we've got a newbie today, and we're doing training in the city room. So buckle up, and first one to get caught buys the pizza." Melodie says. Marcel glances around. The rest of the team seems to know what is happening already, and appears fairly confident. But Marcel is lost. "Newbie. It's your first time doing this training, right?"
"Yes ma'am." Marcel answers.
"Then sit out round one. Just watch on the monitors in the side room." She says, and Marcel nods. For the next twenty minutes, Marcel watches what he can only describe as the most intense game of hide-and-go-seek he's ever seen. Once everyone gets into the room, which is a massive area the size of a football field, and filled to the brim with fake buildings and everything else a city would have, some of it even functional, the team seems to disappear into the environment. And today, HotJack is the seeker. He waits impatiently for the one-minute timer Melodie set to go off before rushing in. He isn't playing the role of a villain or a gang member or a monster, but a hero on the hunt. Likewise, the others are playing the role of heroes being hunted.
HotJack doesn't open by doing some massive attack to draw out the others, but by finding and following footprints on the concrete from a puddle. It took less than four minutes, before HotJack found his first person. The first to get caught is Crasher. Who, upon getting caught, swears under his breath and walks back to the same room as Marcel, placing a $5 bill in a glass jar labeled 'pizza' and sits down to watch the others. The next out is Oasis Prince, who took twice as long as Crasher. HotJack then proceeds to spend remaining time searching for Melodie, with no luck. The twenty-minute timer goes off, and Melodie and HotJack both independently return to the viewing room.
"Who was it?" She asks, looking at the jar. Crasher raises his hand.
"The reigning champ is defeated." HotJack says with a smirk.
"So, Marcel, did you get an idea of what this training is about?"
"It's hide and seek." Marcel says, causing Oasis Prince to snort and stifle a laugh.
"It's survival. Princy up next to hunt. Marcel, you go with him." She says, pointing at Oasis Prince.
"What?" Prince asks, surprised.
"He'll give you a run down of everything while you're on the move. You'll be fine. Just remember to think quick and run fast." With that, she set the timer and everyone dispersed.
Johnny and Marcel take their positions, and Johnny begins to explain their first steps. "So, the first thing we're going to want to do is start searching for clues about which way they could have gone. People always leave clues. I find it's best to put myself in their shoes and kinda work backwards. So let's start with a simple question: which way do we run?"
"Run?" Marcel asks.
"Put yourself in their shoes. You're on the run, being hunted. Where do you go?"
Marcel looks around at the surroundings. Nearby is a large office building, a few alleyways, and a street.
"Maybe… the office building?"
"Okay. See anything in that direction? Footprints, aura marks, anything broken?" Johnny asks.
Marcel looks, but doesn't see anything of note. "No." Assuming Johnny will ask about the other places, he checks that way too. In the distance, he spots a strange mark like a spiderweb pattern on the ground. "But there is something in the street." Marcel points.
Johnny, having spotted it earlier, smiles and says, "Nice. That's Crasher's aura mark. He leaves one whenever he uses his gift." The two begin walking towards the mark, and Johnny spots another one about ten meters away. "Hmm."
"What?" Marcel asks.
"I think this is a false trail. He does this sometimes. He probably plans to double back and hide somewhere else."
"Why do you think that?"
"He's good at this, second best on the team. He's got lots of tricks. And he doesn't usually make amateur mistakes like leaving a trail." Johnnys says, leading Marcel to the next mark.
"He got caught first though? In the last round."
"Yeah, but HotJack is our best tracker. And he always goes after Crasher first. It's a personal rivalry between them. Friendly one though, most of the time."
"So HotJack is the best at this?"
"Only at tracking. But at hiding, Melodie is the best."
"What about you?"
"I'm okay at both. Not the worst at either. Crasher is the worst tracker. HotJack is the worst hider."
"Oh." Marcel nods his head. The two arrive at the second aura mark.
"What do you see?" Johnny asks.
"A mark."
"Which way do you think he is going?"
"Well, the last mark was from there," Marcel points at the location where the two came from ", so that way." He points in the opposite direction.
"You sure?" Johnny kneels down to the mark and feels it with his fingertips. "Feel this?" Marcel kneels down and touches the mark, mimicking Johnny. "There's an unevenness and it's warm."
"Oh yeah… so he pushed off from here and the concrete warped?"
"Yeah, when concrete is flash heated, like from Crasher's aura burst, it expands a little. It will expand in direction he went. You see how it's a little larger on this side?" Johnny touches the left of the mark. "Means he went left."
"Dang, that's really cool." Marcel says, smiling. "Wait, why didn't the concrete break? Shouldn't it crack or something?"
"Crasher has a lot of practice controlling his gifts. But I'm told he used to break the ground up all the time. He got in trouble for it with Dad and the Hero's Core." Johnny explains as the two follow the trail.
"Dad?" Marcel asks, then remembers his persona is Oasis Prince. "Wait, is your dad Oasis King?!"
"Shh, not so loud. You'll give our position away." Johnny says. "But yeah, he is."
"Dude, that's awesome. Your dad's a hero and you get to be his sidekick."
"Yeah, it's pretty cool." Johnny said smugly. "Anyway, I think I was right about him doubling back. Crasher is good at controlling his gifts, but he has a flaw. Once he's moving in a direction, stopping is tough. See this?" Johnny points at a small fracture in a wall. "He took off from there, and hit this before stopping."
"Oof, bet that hurt." Marcel winces.
"Nah, he probably barely noticed. Crasher has two gifts. Enhanced body, and emission type aura."
"Kinda like Popup?"
"They're siblings." Johnny says. "But Crasher's body is stronger than his aura, and Popup's aura and body are about the same. So, she jumps, he runs."
"Makes sense."
"Anyway, we need to speed up if we're going to catch anyone." Johnny says. "Follow me as close as you can. We're running."
"Okay."
With that, Johnny takes the lead in earnest. He tracks Crasher like a bloodhound, finding him in less than six minutes. To which Crasher shrugs and congratulates Marcel and Johnny. This time, Marcel notices that Crasher seems far less upset at being found than he did by HotJack in the first round. Crasher left, heading back to the room to watch the rest. However, the rest of the round is uneventful as the only one caught by the duo was Crasher. The alarm goes off and everyone comes out.
"So, how'd the newbie do, Princy?" Melodie asks.
"We only found Crasher. I took things slow and explained as we went." He says.
"Well, better he learns than anything else. Wanna give him a hand during the chase?"
Johnny looks at Marcel, and nods his head. "Sure."
"Good, because I'm hunting this time." Melodie says. "Make sure you teach him how to cover his tracks. I'll give you extra time for the lesson. How's three minutes instead of one?"
"Sounds great."
"Good. Go ahead and take places." She says. With that, the alarm to begin sounds and the timer starts. Marcel and Johnny take off.
"Hey, what's you name again?" Johnny asks, running.
"Marcel."
"What's your gift, Marcel?"
"Aura augmentation. I can imbue aura into small things. I mostly use a sling, if that matters."
"It might. Augment yourself. I'll use my gifts too. We wanna put some distance between us and Melodie."
"Okay." Marcel says, and begins to fill his body with aura, speeding up. His speed isn't as great as Popup or Crasher's, who can both move faster than a normal eye can track, but his speed does temporarily double. Johnny doesn't have aura, but suddenly his stride increases. Where Marcel's legs almost seem to start blurring while in motion, Johnny's legs simply hit the ground with greater force, launching him forward.
"We'll need to cover our tracks." Johnny says, almost flying with each step.
"We're on concrete." Marcel points out. "And neither of us are leaving aura marks."
"You don't know what Melodie's power is?" Johnny asks. Suddenly, a shriek pierces the entire fake city, nearly splitting Marcel's ears. It rumbles the ground and echoes off the buildings.
"What was that?" Marcel asks, shocked.
"Echo location. Let's hide in the buildings."
"What about covering our tracks?"
"Too late, I'll explain later. I don't have any money for pizza." Johnny says, jumping through an open window into a fake office building. The two search for a moment, before finding a hiding spot in a hallow copy machine. They won't be able to see or escape, but they are totally enclosed. "In here. Her echoes can only search the outside surface of stuff. But she's got good ears, so be quiet."
The two cram themselves in, and hold still so as not to draw attention. They hear a second shriek, then a third.
"She's really hunting today. Not taking it easy on you at all." Johnny whispers.
"Is that a good thing?" Marcel whispers.
"Who knows."
There's a moment of silence as the two listen. But Marcel breaks it. "So, Oasis Prince… at least choosing your persona must have been easy."
"Oh, yeah. My dad was Oasis King before I was born, and so people called me Princy my whole life. It used to bother me, but I started to like it. So, it felt natural when I turned eighteen and picked my persona. What about you? Picked a persona yet?"
Marcel shakes his head. "No. It's tough. Don't even know what I should go by? My gift, like Popup and Crasher? How did your dad choose his?"
"Uh, I think it was like a goal or something? Maybe something from when he was a kid. I know he grew up outside the city walls. But I don't really remember. You'd have to ask him."
Another shriek echoes out, vibrating the whole building. "Goodness, that's gonna rattle my brain. How close do you think she is?"
"Probably pretty close." Melodie says, standing just outside the copy machine.
"Crap." Johnny says, and crawls out of the machine.
"How'd you find us?" Marcel asks, amazed.
"The copy machine is just thin plastic. As far as my gift is concerned, it may as well not even be there." She says, helping the two up. "By the way, you're first."
"Crap." Johnny repeats, annoyed.
"Did I give you enough time?"
"Not really." He says.
"Alright, then go ahead and show him until the end of this round. In hindsight, that probably should've been the plan from the start." She says, placing a finger on her chin thoughtfully.
"Yes ma'am."
With that, she crawled out the window, and let out another ear piercing shriek. The two cover their ears as they walk back. Johnny spends the next fifteen minutes explaining different techniques for evading while in urban environments. Then they team up again to put them in practice for the fourth and final round. For that one, they are not caught. After practice, Melodie gives a short lecture on everyone's achievements and mistakes during the exercise, using the camera footage as evidence, then want of areas they could improve in. She also gives Marcel a few sheets of paper with detailed explanations for the same methods she discusses.
"We liked having you, Marcel. You'll be joining us once a week for this I'm told." Melodie says.
"I will?" Marcel asks.
"According to Ziba. We primarily work in the rural areas outside the walls, but everyone has to do some kind of city training at least once a week. For us, its either this or inner-city combat training. Next week is that, by the way. So, bring a couple weapons."
"Um, all I have is a sling. Is that okay?"
"You're an augmenter, right? Bring the sling, but find a second weapon to bring too. Doesn't gotta be crazy. A knife will be fine." She says.
"Ball bearings are about the biggest thing I can augment." Marcel explains.
"Then don't augment the knife. Just augment your body, and swing it. Should be fine."
"But, will that be enough to kill a monster?" Marcel asks.
"I mean… maybe? Better than nothing. Besides, you'll get better eventually. And then, one day, you can augment yourself and the knife, and definitely kill monsters." She says, shrugging.
For the next few months, Marcel repeats this weekly schedule. Some days, he goes out on patrol with teams one and two, usually led by Oasis King or Wasteland General. Other days, he trains with teams three, four, or five, but usually three. On his days off, he goes home to visit his family, or to the inner city to explore, something he wasn't able to do much working on the farm.
Elsewhere, Oasis King sits at his desk, and Ziba sits across from him. "Marcel's training is going well. He's picked two main weapons." Ziba says. "He just put in a request for a bronze staff. He seems to prefer less-technical weapons in training."
"That's good. He's getting a feel for it." King says. "That's… good."
"It seems Johnny has also taken an interest in him. They've become quite close during training." Ziba says.
"He and Johnny? Why?" King asks, confused. His eyes narrow slightly.
"Well, they're pretty close in age. They seem to get along. Their personalities work pretty well together."
"People have been trying to get close to my family for years…"
"I get it. But I doubt that's what's happening here. They're just becoming friends."
"Hm. Well, how's Marcel's combat skill compared to the other new recruits?" King asks, changing the topic.
"Skill wise, on par. His power is above average though. He's a diamond in the rough." Ziba says. King clenches his fingers around the arm rest of his chair unnoticeably.
"Is he ready for the field yet?"
"Alone?"
"Without me, at least."
"Maybe he could go with just the other sidekicks? But he's too green to go alone." Ziba says.
"Alright." King takes a sharp inhale, collecting his thoughts. "Send him with team three on a patrol."
"You want to repost team three to an urban patrol?"
"No, they do rural patrols, correct?"
"Wait, you want Marcel outside the city?"
"I wanna see what he's got. If things get rough, Melodie can handle anything that gets thrown at him. He'll be fine. And he'll learn more this way."
Ziba sighs, "Okay, I'll get it done."
"You disagree?"
"No, I trust you. I don't know anything about field work anyway."
"Anything else then?"
Ziba shakes his head. "That was it."
"I'll see you later then." With that, Ziba leaves King's office. Oasis King leans back in his chair, and stares at the photos on his desk. Aside from the now broken frame of himself and Wasteland General, there is also a pristine picture of his wife and Johnny, taken the day they came home from the hospital.