The Academy

he’ro (hir’ô) n. 1, a person admired for courage, fortitude, prowess, nobility, etc. 2, the principal character in a play, story, or poem. 3, a submarine sandwich.
I don't ever remember being particular courageous or noble. I can't recall a time when I was exceptional in fortitude or prowess, either. And really…I don’t think anyone would admit to being a giant sandwich in a kindergarten play. But this story is about me, or perhaps, more appropriately, about us, because we did this together, no matter what the textbooks say. And so, we were, the three of us, heroes.

"Hey, Caty." She looked up at the sound of her name and paused, taking a moment to register the tousled-looking young man resting easily by her locker.
"Oh…hey."
He cocked his head. "Overloaded with homework again?"
Considering the overstuffed backpack Caty sported and the stack of extra books cradled in her arms, the question seemed quite pointless.
"Hey, Phifer." Again a greeting, friendly and open, but this time no response. Neither one was surprised in the least. It took much more than an informal 'hey' to make Kelsey Phifer utter a word inside the school building. Once in the outside world however…
"Are we walking together?" Caty asked, closing her locker with a sharp snap.
Brendon shrugged. "I don't see why not; I don't have a ride." The two looked expectantly to Kelsey, who merely nodded her assent; big eyes sparkling behind glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose.
On their way out the building – animatedly discussing the cafeteria fight during sixth period lunch – they passed a set of freshmen cowering before a quartet of bullying seniors. Kelsey seemed not to see them at all, just gliding by as if the threatening curses were mere twittering birds. Brendon paused, breaking his strike to assess the situation before continuing. Caty came to a complete stop, shaking her head, and then hurried after the other two.
"Weren't those freshies the ones who stole Dr. Robbins' purse?" Kelsey asked in her soft voice.
Brendan made a noise of agreement.
Turning her head, Caty cast one last glance back at the group as one of the seniors took a swing at the cringing freshmen.

We watched, and we wondered, and we knew – one day, we would be changing it all. Because, really, that's what we knew the Academy would teach us – how to control our abilities and use them to protect the innocent. Or, in the case of those particular freshmen…the not-so-innocent. The only problem we could see? Well…skipping high school to attend.

"So, what exactly are we waiting for?" Brendon asked, curiously peering around the other two as if expecting a school bus to come zooming out of nowhere in response to his query.
"I'm not exactly su—"
Caty closed her mouth when a handsome coach bus pulled up along the curb, quite literally out of thin air. Only about half was visible beyond the reach of the midnight street lights. The side carried the Academy's logo in bold lines – a Raven's head ringed with three silver circles. The remainder of the bus was solid black.
"Welcome aboard," chirped the attendant. Privately, Caty thought he was less-than-pleased about having to welcome them at all. His face had a strained quality, as if he'd been forced into smiling so often his muscles had forgotten any other pattern of expression.
Together, the three ascended the steps and picked out spots. About thirty others populated the bus already. None of them moved to make introductions though, so the trio contented themselves with continued hushed conversation.
The bus rolled away and made a few bone-jarring jerks, stopped several more times to pick up extra passengers…then went dark entirely.
"Uh…is it just me or did the power go kaput?" Brendon asked.
"It's just you," Kelsey answered at the same time Caty said, "The power's out."
"Getting mixed messages, here. Which is it?"
Lights flickered back into life, but outside the bus, illuminating a huge structure built of black marble. The group gasped in unison. "The Academy" stood out in shining silver, printed boldly across the building's side.
"Welcome to the Academy," the bus attendant announced in his nasally voice via loudspeaker. "Please exit the bus and proceed to the auditorium. Your class is waiting for you."
A sudden press of bodies bore Brendon, Caty and Kelsey off the bus and into the building itself.
The auditorium was huge. Again, the theme of black and silver carried over; the stage was black with black curtains decorated with ravens' heads in silver. The carpeted floor also bore the patterning, giving the impression of a million tiny lights flickering from the ground as overhead lights swayed above them, the changing shadows betraying the hugeness of the chamber.
Caty, Brendon and Kelsey found themselves tucked tightly into one corner of the place, watching he stage as a woman in baby blue took to it.
"Welcome to the Academy." Her voice was low and musical. "Before you enter your classes, you will be divided according to ability level. This is a relatively simple process – we will be evaluating your readiness with the Placement O-matic." The curtains behind her drew back to reveal the rest of the stage…and a huge, pale grey box-like item labeled 'Placement O-matic.'
"Now if you'll all form an orderly line…"
The students scrambled to do so. Somehow, Caty ended up separated from Kelsey and Brendon, standing instead behind a frizzy-haired boy with glasses. He was the very picture of nerd – pants pulled a shade too high and button-up shirt starched to the point where brushing against a fold could cut.
Impatiently Caty waited. Her attention caught as a small girl tottered up to the box and was let in. Across the top flashed "Level 5."
"What's Level 5?" Caty asked softly as the young girl exited, beaming.
"The highest level in the Academy," the nerdy boy answered, his voice an awkward mix of awe and disdain. "I can't believe she made it…"
"What's that?"
"She's skipping formal training and proceeding directly to Villain status."
"Villain? She can't be older than five!" Caty exclaimed.
He cast a pitying glance over his glasses. "They start young, nowadays."

Going through the breaking up into classes was utter mayhem. No one seemed to know what they were supposed to do afterward, and the press of bodies trying to get away from the sorting machine was at least as forceful as the flow towards it. I don't remember exactly how long it took everyone to get through. I do remember that Level 2 seemed to be the most common class to end up in, though… Just about everyone landed there. I did, Brendon did – we were the Superheroes in Training. But Kelsey surprised us all, ending up as a Level 4 candidate. A Villain in Training.

"You're Level 4?" Brendon whistled his appreciation, clapping the quieter-than-usual Kelsey on the shoulder. The congratulations rang hollow to Caty's ears. Hadn't the three of them done everything together since they'd been old enough to waddle about in diapers? What were they to do now that their trio had been broken up?
"We'll still hang out together," Brendon promised. Caty wasn't so sure.
And Kelsey…well, Kelsey simply didn't answer, but then, that wasn't so unusual.

We did well that year. For the most part, Brendon and I managed to pass our exams, though I do remember having a pronounced deficiency in the Tragic Background unit. The worst thing that I could ever recall happening to me had been when a car ran over my cat. The teacher had counted it as a passing grade…until I accidentally revealed that Fluffernutter had lived through it, returning me to failure on the ground of unsuitable back story.
It was probably the only unit where I envied Brendon's life. He received an A for having suffered abandonment by parents and chronic neglect from his older sister. It made me wish my own family hadn't been quite so supportive. But even a year of exams and strenuous unit prep did nothing to keep us from spending as much time together with Kelsey as we could. If anything, our friendship grew stronger during that time, and we all made fun of the crazy teachers and compared what we were learning.
And then…three hundred, sixty-five days after we first entered the Academy, it was Graduation Day.

Though the order on the programs was supposedly random, Caty couldn't help but think some higher power had been nice enough to put her directly after Brendon for the ceremonies. Maybe he'd give her clues on how to act onstage.
The proceedings crawled through the Level 1 grads. Caty fidgeted, wondering why Average Citizenal Abilities was even a level in the Academy.
Conversely, the set of Level 2 grads before Brendon seemed to rush by until the red-head was called on stage. There wasn't much flash to the whole thing; after announcing his power over fire to the audience, Brendon received a name, a costume and a certificate of graduation. That was it.
Pretty anti-climatic, considering, Caty though as the red-head returned, proudly bearing his prizes. She slipped out onto the stage when her name was called next. Same deal – she told the audience she could control the basic elements of nature, ad in return was gifted a name and costume.
"That was sorta lame," she whispered to Brendon as she took her seat again.
He shrugged. "I guess they get fancier with each year. The Level 5's are supposed to have an amazing grad-spectacle."
Caty nodded, not bothering to pretend at enthusiasm she didn't feel. She wanted to see Kelsey graduate and then go home to sleep.
Level 3's – the fully-fledged superheroes – put on a fancy display, parading across the stage and showing off their powers to the audience's delight. Caty sighed. It was going to be a long wait with all these flashy fish.
Really, there wasn't anything to be done with the superheroes. The class went through, announcing their names and powers, but beyond that, Caty considered it a waste of stage time. When they all filed off at last, she settled back, paying full attention for the first time in the whole proceeding.
The curtain snapped shut with a thunderous boom, and silence filled the auditorium. Something like fog crept out from under the hangings, curling up in tendrils along the stage. Slowly, the curtain began to drift open revealing the smallest class yet. Only five students stood on the stage, already dressed in their costumes.
At a snail's pace, the five advanced, spreading out as they came forward. Caty could pick out Kelsey on the very end, next to a glasses-wearing boy who looked remotely familiar.
'We are disorder, chaos, doubt. We are your fears, your hopeless dreams. We are your nightmares. Your harmony will become our dissonance.'
"I am Miss Demeanor!" the girl on the far right shrieked, stepping forward and raising her fist into the air. The crowd hissed softly.
"I am Felony!" the next in line called out, also stepping forward, bowing mockingly to the audience.
"The Reaper!"
"Fate's Dice!"
Silence. Then… "I am Mass Mayhem." Quieter than any of the others, but spoken with a level of conviction that defied any to doubt.
Mass Mayhem? Caty mouthed at Brendon. He shrugged.
The group circled around her, cackling madly and bowing their way off stage. The audience went wild, screaming and cheering. Brendon shook Caty's shoulder. "Let's see if we can catch her before she leaves."
Caty nodded. It had been too long since they had hung out properly anyway. "Let's do it."

We didn't manage to find her before we were waylaid by the Academy director, bring us our first ever assignment. The chance put her out of both our heads; maybe if we hadn't forgotten, things might have turned out differently. 'If' this… 'If' that… Ah, the torturous joys of hindsight.

"Pyrobin, Earthica – the Academy has an assignment for the two of you. Will you accept it?"
The disembodied voice floated around the two of them in the sparsely furnished room. Since there were no speakers of any sort, Caty wondered where it was coming from. Brendon seemed to have no such trouble accepting the fact that the voice was simply there.
They already had a basic understanding of what the mission would entail, so this question was mere formality. With little hesitation, they both gave their acceptance.
"Then listen closely. Your mission is to abort a piece of rogue technology…"

Our first mission was a paired one – something I was grateful for at the time. Pyrobin and I were sent out after the Deathstar 401, a vicious piece of technology coming in from orbit for the first time in years. With the villain count at a record high, the Academy figured it wouldn't hurt to send raw beginners against raw beginners. They teach us, they train us, and, ultimately, they let us go wreck havoc on the world as we please.

"Pyrobin – can you help me get this open?"
The Deathstar 401 wasn't all that impressive looking – just an oversized satellite, really. What made it a difficult task was breaking and entering.
"I can't just melt it to pieces!" the red-head growled. "We're supposed to salvage what we can of the technology, remember?"
Earthica glared. "There won't be anything to salvage if you don't get the door open now." She pulled at the closed doors once more, wondering for the nth time exactly why the Academy had elected to send an earth-affinity out into the ozone. It wasn't as if she could affect animals or plant matter out here, anyway. Frankly…she was basically just another human being. Which was part of the reason Pyrobin's silliness was more annoying than usual.
"All right, all right." The red-head balanced on the satellite wings and frowned in concentration. Earthica watched as small sparks began to flicker on his palms. He'd once explained this phenomenon to her; apparently he had to force particles to create enough friction to produce flame. It didn't sound like a comfortable job at all. But there was flame…and it was melting the hinges around the door, loosening it up. The door swung open then, and Pyrobin slumped inside.
"See, wasn't so bad, was it?" Earthica asked, stepping in after him.
He shook his head wearily. "It takes so much more effort to control small fires," he complained. "And it gives me headaches."
She sighed and dug into her blue and green superhero suit, looking for the bottle of Advil she kept with her at all times. "Here…take one of these." She dumped a pill into his hand and he swallowed it, looking grateful.
"Now, what bit of technology are we supposed to be saving?"
"Beats me. All I know is we were supposed to break in."
The two of them split up, examining the two halves of the satellite closely. It was a small structure, so even split up, they were basically two or three steps away from one another at the most. "Is this it?" Earthica asked, tapping Pyrobin on the shoulder to draw attention to a small grey box bearing the Academy's sigil on it.
"Could be. Here…let me see – "
Something like thunder boomed and the satellite's internal lighting went dark.
"Holy shit!" Pyrobin exclaimed. Tiny sparks danced up from his hands, floating in the air to illuminate the rest of the cabin.
A heap of black clothing lay on the floor, stirring slowly. It sat up, and Earthica shrieked in delight. "Kelsey!" She made to pounce on the other girl, but Pyrobin caught her arm and hauled her back. "What?" she demanded, irritably.
"Earthica, that's Mass Mayhem," the red-head growled. "I bet she's after the Deathstar 401 technology as well."
"Brendon – break out of it! I'm Caty, you're Brendon, and that's Kelsey. The whole superhero thing is just for the Academy, and when we're fighting real evil."
Pyrobin didn't listen, and pushed Earthica out of his way. "That is real evil. I'm sorry you can't see that," he answered her, face glowing with the light from the flames he'd conjured. The satellite shuddered as Mass Mayhem levered herself to her feet and then relit.
"How sweet of you to still consider me a friend," the evil villainess sneered. "Unfortunately for you, I don't consider you anything more than a hindrance." Her dark eyes snapped to Pyrobin's hand, holding the small grey box. "You – give me the box."
The red-head smirked. "You'll have to take it from me."
"Oh, must we engage in such pointless trivialities?" Mass Mayhem sighed theatrically, then whipped her arm up, palm facing Pyrobin. "Do as I command. I own your mind. OBEY."
Pyrobin twitched and fell to his knees, but his hands still cradled the precious box. "I…won't," he panted, glaring back up at her.
Mass Mayhem glared at her hands and sighed, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the wall. "Dang mind-control…" she muttered. "Look, this whole superhero business is just a game. You two already graduated from the Level 2 Academy, but I can't graduate until I successfully complete a mission. I just have to turn the box in, and then I'll get out of Level 4. I'll give it back after, if that's what you want."
From behind Pyrobin, Earthica stood back up. "C'mon Brendon – she's serious. Just let her have it."
"NO!"
They stood in stalemate for another minute, each section of the triangle glaring at the other until an ominous ticking broke the silence. The screen behind Pyrobin lit up, reading:

Deathstar 401 Self Destruct in:
5:00

They had been warned about the self-destructive mode the Deathstar went into after being infiltrated. Inwardly, Earthica cursed. She'd hoped they would avoid having to escape by a hair's breadth. "Come on, let's just get out of here and we can talk over the switching thing later," she suggested, trying to push past Pyrobin and get to the exit.
He held her back. "We can't do that, and you know we can't." The little grey box seemed so innocent, resting in his palm, the calm grey in stark contrast against the violently red suit.
"Brendon, please… You know I can't take all this emotional stuff without going wacky," Earthica pleaded, wishing for the hundredth time that sentimentality wasn't her weakness. There had to be more interest problems to have.
Pyrobin paused, considering. "We still can't just hand it over, though."
"Well, you could hand it over or we could sit around talking until the cows come home," Mass Mayhem interjected coolly. "In case you haven't noticed, the clock is still counting down. Either you give it to me and we get out, or we're doomed."
"What do you mean?" Earthica exclaimed.
"The door sealed shut when I came in," the villainess admitted. "I don't think it was supposed to, but my guess is that the only way to get it to open again is for me to have the grey boxy thing."
"Clever ploy," Brandon muttered. He looked thoughtful though, and considering the clock was counting down to the last two minutes, he tossed the box over to Mass Mayhem.
She caught it and pounded on the satellite door. It didn't open.
"Something stuck?" Earthica asked, edging around Pyrobin to stand beside the villainess.
"It should be opening," Mass Mayhem said, sounding confused, and pushing at the latch again. "I mean, I didn't rig it, or anything, but still the hatch shouldn't have stuck like that after I came in."

Deathstar 401 Self-destruct in:
1:15

The screen began to blink with each second that disappeared, and buzzed sporadically. "I don't think that means anything good," Earthica snapped at the other two. "Is there anything you can do, Brendon?"
He frowned and began concentrating on summoning fire. Nothing happened. "It's not working!"
"You're kidding." Mass Mayhem's voice was flat.
The screen flickered to black and a disembodied voice floated into the cabin.
Well, well, well… Heroes and villain cooperating. Now there's something you don't see every day. Unfortunately for you all, cooperation won't save you. It seems your studies weren't adequate to prepare you for the reality of the situation. The Academy would like to thank you for your participation and bid you a good day.

Deathstar 401 Self-destruct in:
0:30

"You're kidding me."
"I don't think that was kidding," Pyrobin answered grimly, pounding more furiously at the door than before.
"There has to be a reason behind this," Earthica exclaimed in dismay.
"Of course there is," Mass Mayhem answered her. She seemed pretty calm, considering their imminent doom. "The Academy isn't exactly user-friendly. They just want to pound humanity out of you to keep the world interesting. We didn't obey their laws. We didn't fit the mold. They can't have villains and heroes as friends in the off-season, now can they? Especially not when it interferes with work." She sighed and slipped down to rest against the door. "Give it up, Brendon. There's no way we're getting out of here in one piece. Might as well enjoy our last…twelve seconds of existence."

There's a point where I wanted to be able to look back and say 'yeah, I did everything I could,' but really, I'll never be able to say it now. The Academy doesn't just train us; it uses us for its own purposes. In the end, our failures and successes are meaningless. What the Academy wants, it takes, and what it wanted from us was our friendship. Barring that, it wanted our lives.