"So, I guess this is it," Arx said as they prepared to go their separate ways—his family to find temporary lodging until they could secure housing, Mateo and Alex to the Atlas Academy.
"Hope we see you soon," Arx's wife said gently, offering a wave.
"Don't get yourself killed, Alex," Arx called after them. "And don't push yourself too hard, Mateo!"
Was he so transparent that everyone felt compelled to warn him against his own tendencies? Mateo sighed internally and waved back to Arx's family as he followed Alex into the Capital.
They walked through streets lined with marketing skyscrapers, stores displaying confections and fast food that made Mateo's stomach clench with want, Nal's sandwich having done little to satisfy his hunger.
Here, unlike Ashdrift, there was life. People walked without the constant tension in their shoulders, laughing and talking as if there wasn't a brutal civil war raging at the nation's edges. They couldn't see the fighting from their pristine streets, so they didn't feel its weight.
And above them all hovered their symbol of hope.
As they continued walking, the hulking mass in the sky became more distinct. The Atlas Academy. It looked as if someone had carved a gigantic piece from the earth, suspended it in the sky, and built an entire city upon it. From the giant "AA" emblazoned on its side, Mateo knew the entire floating structure was the Academy itself.
They stopped directly underneath it. With the sun overhead, AA cast an immense shadow on the ground. This was the Academy checkpoint. Dozens of floating motorcycles waited—matte black, humming softly, each bearing the Academy's emblem: a triangle nested within a circle. Many were already ascending with passengers, likely other applicants.
"Need a ride?" one of the riders called out to Alex. She nodded, tossing him a handful of bills before loading her two duffel bags into compartments meant for luggage. Mateo took his place behind her, clutching his single backpack.
The bike tilted slightly from their weight but rose steadily. Mateo felt the atmosphere thinning, his ears popping from the rapid change in pressure.
Then the vehicle lurched skyward, G-forces pressing him into the seat as the city fell away beneath them. Wind tore at his clothes during their ascent toward the Academy—a floating monolith of white alloy and blue energy shields, its highest towers piercing the clouds.
Mateo's stomach twisted with a mixture of awe and anxiety. Somewhere in that gleaming fortress, his future awaited.
Their bike touched down on a landing pad connected to a glass-walled corridor. Mateo stepped off unsteadily, his heart still racing from the flight.
"This is where we split paths, Mateo!" Alex grinned and delivered another of her signature back slaps.
"What do you mean? I thought we were doing this together."
She furrowed her brow. "You didn't really think we could be some sort of team, right? Everyone's a rival here. We have to fight for our individual spots."
"Right, right," he muttered. Why did she have to make everything so competitive?
Alex bounded through the massive double doors that marked the Academy entrance, leaving Mateo behind. He sighed and followed her path, joining the thousand other applicants streaming inside.
Through the organized chaos, Mateo was directed to one of hundreds of interview offices. He waited as seventy people ahead of him completed their interviews, each lasting about five minutes. By the time his turn came, his feet ached from standing.
He entered the office, closing the door behind him. Instantly, the clamor outside vanished—the room was soundproof.
His interview was about to begin. A young man with silvery hair cascading to his shoulders looked up at him, studying him through gold-rimmed glasses. Those eyes seemed to peer into Mateo's very soul, probing for secrets.
Then he smiled.
"Sit. We have a lot to discuss."
"What's your name?" The white-haired man asked as he jotted down in the interview room. Despite the calm he thought he'd show, he was twitching unconsciously, and his fingers were trembling.
"Mateo Mendoza, Sir."
"Quirk?" He asked.
Quirk? Mateo thought as words could no longer form on his lips.
The white-haired man raised an eye-brow beneath his gold-rimmed glasses. "You do have a quirk, right? If not, I'll have to direct you to the recruitment office where you'll join the special-armed unit. You have to have a quirk before you can, you know, be a hero."
But Eliza Atlas had announced that anyone, even without a quirk could become a hero at Atlas Academy now. Was that just a lie to get more recruitments? Then they really were just looking for more bodies for cannon fodder.
He looked at his trembling fist. He briefly considered the possibility of joining the special forces. He was sure he would still go through rigorous training. He would have a weapon, some kind of gun, and he would be in the war zones and probably catch a villain or two.
That was what he wanted after all. To avenge his brother. But he thought back to what Alec said.
"I want to be a hero. I want to save people."
He had to realize his late brother's dream. He had to be a hero. He had to save people like his brother. Not just wielding guns on the battleground.
"I have a quirk." Mateo admitted.
The white-haired man nodded. "So, what is it? Talk quickly, there are about 200 people behind you alone."
He paused, calculating if it was still worth it, but he was already on the path. He clenched his fists so tightly he thought he could feel the blood welling up on his knuckles again.
"It's called Slime. I can generated slime from my skin."
White's nose crinkled. In amusement? In disgust? His other features didn't show it.
"You do realize we're looking for combat specific quirks, right?" He spoke up. "Are you sure your 'Slime' quirk will be valuable in battle?"
Mateo pondered on the question. He could recall when the slime erupted uncontrollably from his arm, drowning and crushing Brett under its weight. He could see the possibilities of it being used in battle. But he wasn't sure he could control it.
And he didn't want to rely on it either. It would be his last resort.
"Yes. It will be valuable." Mateo responded.
"The tests will see if you're right." The man responded back to him. He had a strange air to him, like he blurred at the edges when you tried focusing on all his features. "I only have one more question for you, since we don't have time for an extensive interview, based on the 'crisis' at the edge of the country. Are you ready?"
Mateo nodded a little too enthusiastically. He wanted to get out of this room as soon as possible.
"Why do you want to be a hero, Mateo?"
"Because I want to save people." He said without hesitation.
"Wrong." White-hair said. "If you're going to lie, you can leave."
"I'm not lying," Mateo said defensively. He tried adding specific details to make his stance more believable. "My brother died because there were no heroes to save him during an explosion that killed him. I want to be the kind of hero that's there when people actually need them."
"You're still lying." He replied, shaking his head, facepalming while his silver hair fell down. "I have a quirk that can tell when people are lying. So why don't you come clean?"
Then his eyes narrowed further. "Or are you some kind of spy? Is that why you're lying?"
Mateo's heart shuddered in his chest because of the false accusations. "No-"
"Then tell me." He said, resting his back on the chair. "Why do you want to be a hero."
Mateo steadied himself, taking a breath before he said his real intentions.
"Because my brother wanted to be a hero. I want to fulfill his dream.
White-hair's eyebrow went up. "That's a half-truth. What's the whole thing?"
Mateo stared, and then took another breath, wondering if he would still be considered for the hero application if he told this man everything.
"I want to avenge my brother. He was killed by a villain. So, I want to be a hero to kill every villain alive."
White-hair smiled, as if satisfied. Then he spoke, "Revenge is a powerful motivator. Though it's not the most heroic personality trait."
He pulled a paper from his drawer and stamped in. "You're in. Let's see if you can actually make it through the trials to be a real hero."
Mateo was dumbfounded, but he gave a small bow as he walked out of the room anyways.
"And Mateo?" He said.
"Yes, sir?"
"I don't have a lie detection quirk."
Mateo sighed bitterly. He had been tricked. But it didn't matter anyways.
He was going to do what he set out to do.