AN: Sorry for the long wait. I'm inconsistent when it comes to writing (and most other things).

I woke up very early.

Way too early. The sun wasn't even up yet.

I decided it was time to check out the internet.

First off, Parahumans Online.

When I opened the website, I was already logged in, despite never making an account. Guess that happens when your computer is under PRT oversight.

I looked at it for two seconds, didn't see anything that immediately caught my interest, and decided that it was a failure of a site.

The internet was supposed to be more fun that this.

I sighed.

I typed in: 'videogames for free'. There came sites, ones that I was sure contained viruses, but they had 'piracy' in their name, which would give me enough justification if somebody checked my history. Next I searched 'how to pirate safely'. There was a reddit post about it, which I skimmed through. Downloaded some torrent program, stuck in Call of Duty Modern Warfare, (imported from Earth Aleph), (of course, I only did this after googling 'best games of the decade').

After that, all I had to do was wait to either die of boredom or for the game to finish downloading.

While I did this, I went back to PHO, and looked for all the five seconds I needed to find the Woodside Hills subsection.

There were bigfoot theories, a betting ring based on which establishments were actually just fronts for the Elite, some battleboarding threads.

I clicked on the last one, to see the popular consensus on my teammates and the adult heroes.

People generally agreed that the leaders could solo their own teams.

Corrosive was a high rated shaker who could make the entire area around himself inhospitable, and none of his team members had long range attacks. Some people argued that Untraceable could teleport in an already powered-up Erebus, but there were differing opinions on whether he could survive long enough to defeat Corrosive.

Ferrum had metal telekinesis with a moderate range, and was widely agreed to be able to take on the rest of the Wards with sufficient preparation time, though there were some people who vehemently argued that Fungus could create mushrooms which let out sleeping gas at a large enough range that the entire town would be affected, making it impossible for Ferrum to get close enough to defeat him, even if he sped up a projectile so that it would fly fast even after leaving his own range.

That was informative, so I continued looking at the threads. There were some advertisements for the local restaurants, each with their own gimmicks. The most outstanding one was the singing bear, proclaiming to produce the best pizza in the county. After being reminded of this bleak reality, I installed an adblocker.

My attention span so painfully short, I looked back on the download, and sadly noted that it was not even halfway done.

I went to the cape wiki, to brush up my knowledge of the heroes and villains alike.

A little bit later, I checked back on PHO, and found that I had a private message sent to me.

It was a video from an account named PRT_Powertesting, who said it was the footage from my power testing.

I watched it, and I must say, it was impressive.

And not ten minutes after I watched it, I finally got a notification that the download was finished.

It was good enough, I suppose. A taste of familiarity. (Even though I've never actually played Call of Duty before.) The simple action of shooting enemies made it easy to take my mind off of heavier topics, such as the fact that the apocalypse would be coming in about 4 years, and there was nothing I could do about it without compromising myself.

Around eight, I got bored enough to venture out, to explore the rest of the building.

I exited my room and entered the stairwell, having decided to see the higher floors first.

I opened the door on the third floor, and entered into a large room with four desks, all of them with quality chair and computers.

At one, I saw Corrosive sitting, signing some papers.

He glanced up at me, his mouth stretching into a smile.

"Good morning, Dreadnought!"

"Uh, hello."

"I see you decided to explore the building."

"I was bored." I said, shrugging, averting my eyes.

He looked down sadly on his paperwork.

"I can relate to that." He took a sip from his coffee mug. "You know, I think doing something would be good for both of us. Something more exciting than paperwork. That thing hollows you out from the inside out." He stood up "That reminds me, I read the doctor's notes on your power testing." At my wince, he quickly reassured me. "Ah, don't worry about that little incident. I've heard of worse things happening. You, in contrast, didn't even shed a drop of blood. It's barely a footnote." He began walking towards the stairwell, as I followed him.

"I think it's time we started training. At the Protectorate, the standard policy is approaching situations non-lethally, and for that you need to be aware how easily your power kills people, so you can avoid it. Since Erebus patrolled last night and Angel is in school, I'm the next best person to teach you, being a minor brute myself."

"I thought you were a shaker."

"Well, that's my main power. My brute rating mostly comes from the increased durability needed to withstand it, and a minor healing factor for when I push it beyond safe limits."

"I thought you're supposed to be protected from your own power."

"But I am, as long as I use it 'properly'. But when you push it beyond limits, some rules break."

"How strong is it when you do that?"

"Well, let's just say that most human bodies take less than five seconds to dissapear inside of it." he winked at me as he said this. I wasn't sure if this was a subtle threat or gloating.

"Didn't you just say that we're not supposed to kill villains?"

"Oh, that's the policy; Written by some pencil pushers who think of us like sharks: that if we once tasted blood we would never stop, becoming bloodthirsty maniacs. Thankfully, our director shares my view on such things, so in such situations we are free to take appropriate actions, but it's still generally better not to flaunt such things." He used a lot of generalizations there, 'such situations' and 'appropriate actions' without actually saying anything concrete, but on the other hand, he basically said that the local heroes can take the permanent path to villain removal.

That was convenient, if I ever lost control and maimed somebody.

"However, the thing you need to concentrate on, is that usually there's no reason to use lethal force, nor are Wards supposed to."

We reached a large room, barren, burn marks littering the floor and the walls, a couple benches sitting in the corner.

"Still, before we do any sort of training, I need to tell you one of the most important rules of life, needing to be taken extra seriously as a cape." I watched with rapt attention, though I was ready to stop listening the moment he started speaking about 'everything being based on your perspective'.

"You must always stand up for yourself. You have power, and people will try to take advantage of that, by manipulation or other methods. It is something I've seen many heroes struggle with, feeling that their abilities make them obligated to help relentlessly, to bear everything unfairly put onto them, eventually becoming shells of their former selves, if they lived that long." A dark look passed in his eye.

"Take the Endbringers, for example. They are, after Scion, the strongest beings in the world, most capes cannot even scratch them, and yet, many are sent to battle them and die needlessly. It is seen as obligatory, the ones opting out being ridiculed and ostracized. And I hate that. I hate that many go there only to die, when they could have helped so many people back in their hometowns. The monsters' targets are doomed anyway, most of them end up as ghost cities, with many people abandoning their former homes for good." Only now realizing the strength of his own voice, he sheepishly quieted.

"I've gone a bit off track. Untraceable always tells me that when it comes to topics I care about, I can go a bit overboard when it comes to talking about them." I nodded, still trying to process everything he said.

I liked what I heard, I decided. He stood up for his subordinates, he went against the norm, he had the courage and the power to do it and continue doing it.

"I think that speech delivered enough life lessons for one morning. Let's get to the actual combat part." The air around us adopted a very faint green tint. It felt like rashes on my skin.

"Don't do a full transformation yet, we still need to communicate somehow." I nodded, breaking off my right arm, along with my left one. From the elbow there were now two liquid replicas of them.

"What would you turn them into if it came to a fight? What comes naturally, the first thing you think of?"

"Blades, swords." I said as my arms morphed, from above my hands two blades growing, brushing my fingers, forty centimeters long, covering most of my forearms. "Why?"

"To see what you're power is geared towards, since that usually comes the most easily. Seeing that your first response is to create blades, stabbing weapons, that shows me that you don't necessarily have a lot of brute strength, but being aware of it, you subconsciously compensate for it. Or, at least, in theory, it's not really a hard science with powers."

"I can create other stuff, you know."

"Of course; I didn't want to imply that you should limit yourself. I was just searching for a starting point that I could use to introduce you to fighting. For example, heroes with bladed weapons have to be careful to avoid any major organs or arteries, and generally being seen bloody is not good for PR, though I don't think you should ever let those concerns stop you."

"So, I shouldn't use blades?"

"Not unless you wanted to inflict serious injuries, which are most of the time not warranted, seeing that on average you'll deal with nothing worse than petty thieves and muggers. For them, you need to learn to hold back."

"Do I practice on you or what?"
"Yes. A simple spar, in which I will act like an unpowered thug."

"Shouldn't you teach me something about fighting first?"

"It seems to me that you've already got some instincts in your changer form; Many capes have those, and they're often the first thing they resort to when under duress. It has been observed that it's easier to build on it, rather than to try and work around it."

"Well, okay, if you say so." I said, before I used the access to my liquid to just force it to the surface. It was like flexing a muscle, except you pushed it beyond the point of pain and until blood vessels popped. My skin fell off in chunks, and I was transformed into the my liquid form.

I created a form that could be described as a mix between a crocodile and a centaur. I was standing on my hind legs, close to the ground, while my front was standing vertically, with two limbs serving as hands. My height was about the same as Corrosive's, which put me at an impressive two meters.

He moved into a basic fighting stance, as far as I could recognize it.

I rushed, controlling my body more with intent than with movement. My fingers became claws, and I slashed at him, his body moving out of the way, but not fast enough, as I nicked his right arm.

He threw a punch with his left one, but I didn't even feel it, and I grabbed his arm with mine, digging my claws into it.

I leaned in close, opened an unneeded mouth, with long teeth, and with the distraction in place my right arm shot out, grabbing his throat.

Then my hand burned. Acid was leaking where my hand touched his throat, and words came out from his mouth:

"It seems we have a lot of work to do."

We spent most of the morning practicing, and it was a sobering realization when I grasped how little agency I had, or more accurately, how much agency I gave away in my other form. It had brutality as a baseline, aggressiveness that I only dreamed of.

Still, Corrosive didn't admonish me. He took it in stride, continuing after each failed attempt at a successful capture, of which there were many, during which I became familiar with the feel of his acid. His cloud I had not yet experienced, but the one he created on his skin was a more than strong enough reminder of why he was the leader of the Woodside team.

As the hours went on, I became increasingly aware of my hunger. It lingered, a restlessness in the air, and a change in how I saw Corrosive. While initially his size made him look intimidating, now it made him look nutritious. This was an unexpected complication, but I was fairly sure that I could resist eating anyone worth keeping around.

Around an hour or two after noon, Corrosive signaled to stop.

"I think it's time for lunch."

I rebuilt my body, suddenly feeling limited. My other form was so much freer, but there was some sense of safety in being constrained in this human shell, being able to walk around without people knowing there was anything different in me from the rest of them.

"We don't actually have a cafeteria in the building; we usually have lunch at the PRT office." continued Corrosive, unperturbed.

We went up the stairs, and exited the building into the parking lot, where we got into one of the uniform black cars. As we got in, Corrosive shared a piece of trivia with me:

"The windows of these cars are actually one-way mirrors."

"What about the troopers? Won't they see my face?"

"There are heavy penalties for revealing a cape's civilian identity, but there are some domino masks in the glove box if you'd like one."

I took out a dark blue one, for maximum color coordination.

We quickly reached the PRT building, and we parked the car at the underground parking lot, in the back.

Through the stairs, we got up to the first floor, where we entered the cafeteria. Most troopers who noticed us quickly averted their gaze, though some of them nodded or waved to Corrosive, who returned the greetings.

There were a couple simple menus, along with a plethora of other food options, but I didn't want to spend much time among people so I just chose one of the menus and took a seat near the edge of the cafeteria with Corrosive.

"Soon you'll be inducted into the Wards." he started "But before that, you'll need a costume, and for that, I called in one of the specialists from Los Angeles. He has some business before he can come, but he should arrive by tomorrow. Don't forget: It's your career, don't let him make the important decisions."

"Okay."

We ate for a while, but eventually, Corrosive's allergy of silence reared its head up again, as he began speaking.

"I forgot to ask: How are you settling in? Are there problems any problems? The Wards' quarters was designed to be livable, but it's the bare minimum." I considered my words.

"It's . . . nice, I suppose. I don't really have anything to compare it to, so I'm not sure how valid my opinion is. The quarters are alright, really, though the food selection is lacking. I actually wanted to talk with you about it: it seems to me that I need a more food than normal people. Like, yesterday I ate a large chunk of a pig, and I could have ate more. Even now, after eating this plate of food, it feels like there's a void inside of me." That was maybe a tad more dramatic than I intended; I got a bit carried away.

Not missing a beat though, Corrosive replied:

"That can be rectified, of course. If I may ask, are there any other differences that you've observed?"

"Well, now that you ask, I didn't go to the toilet since I woke up, and I my hunger is . . . weird? I guess, it doesn't work like normal, I just eat, it's stored, somewhere, and it's pretty much only used up when I transform

, or when I actually do stuff. I don't want to test it, but I have a feeling that if I wanted to just sit in one place for like a few days, I could easily do it

.

I'd be bored out of my mind, but that's a secondary concern.

"

"Seems like a case of you're system being more efficient with resource management; don't worry, many powers do this. A famous example is the Noctis cape phenomenon, in which some powers independently of each other cause the need for sleep to dissapear in their users."

"Seems useful."

After eating another three trays worth of food, I started to almost physically feel the troopers' gaze on me, and decided that I had enough for the time being. They probably didn't taste great anyways.

Getting back to the Hero Headquarters, Corrosive started conversation again.

"I have a patrol scheduled for the afternoon, so I'm afraid our training has to be cut short." This was an unwelcome interruption. But it wasn't really an interruption, was it? Corrosive always knew that he had patrol today, he just didn't tell me. "The Wards should be arriving soon though."

"Noted."

"Goodbye for now." said Corrosive, as our paths diverged, and I went back to the common room.

There was nothing to do in there. I could have played some more video games, but after experiencing the rush of my power in full effect, it became almost comical that I ever taught them exciting.

Looking around the common room, I saw a small bookshelf in the corner.

There was a book with a blue cover, a bit worn, titled 'Essential Knowledge for heroes'. It was, I noted, the first edition, proudly displaying the fact that it was written by Alexandria. Next to it there was also a more recent reprint, in a lot brighter condition.

I started reading half-heartedly, my attention only barely being held by the dry prose, and at the first sound of movement I put it down. It was coming from the stairwell, the sounds of a pair of feet ascending.

I turned towards the door, just in time to see Michael enter, alone.

I immediately moved towards him, desperate for companionship.

"Michael, hello!"

"Hi." he said, sitting down at the central table.

"How was school? Where are the others?"

"School was . . . school, though thankfully it's only one more day until the end of it. The others are off doing their own things, seeing that yesterday we did most of the required weekly patrolling. But enough about that, I heard you went to power testing!"

"I did. It went reasonably well."

"Good to hear. What results did you get?"

"Well, I'm a sort of, freeform shapeshifter, though it's not good for stealth. It's more like, my body is made of clay or something like that, easily malleable but with a distinct look."

"It's more suited towards short range, I assume?"

"Yeah."

"That's great. Our team is lacking in those."

"Wait, aren't Wards supposed to not get into fights?"

"And we don't, believe me. I just like to have a well rounded team, my inner strategist insists on it."

"What is it you actually do then, if you never get into fights?"

"Patrol mostly, sometime we get to stop muggers and drug dealers, but it's pretty rare. It isn't like we are supposed to get into fights, the program was created to 'help young heroes learn their own limits', though that is mostly just what PR is pushing."

"So, there's no more power testing?"

"Well, most of the time, no. I asked Corrosive about it, and he told me, that unless a power was possibly good against the Endbringers, advancing its usage was a low priority. I mean, I understand the logic behind it, most powers' high-end applications are rather lethal, and it would be disastrous if a Ward accidentally killed a test subject, creating even more restrictions, not to mention the media scandal. So, most of us just need to make do with what we have, sparring with our teammates, with adult supervision only, always being careful not to apply too much power."

Seeing my silence, he drew his conclusion.

"Sorry, I must sound very cynical, don't I? It's a really negative picture I projected, which is false, I really like it here in Woodside, but, you know, working here gives me time to see the shortcomings, which sometimes make me overlook the better parts of it." He made a sort of clapping motion. "Anyways, that was enough venting for today. Would you like to come to the gym? It helps me clear out my head."

"Sure."

We went down the stairs, and entered another door in the basement, leading to a well furnished room with a lot of machines.

Michael and I spent an hour there, with occasional conversation, during which I continuously marveled at my new endurance.

"Don't get cocky, Angel is probably stronger than you." said Michael, after I lifted four times what he did.

As we were finishing up, another question popped into my mind:

"How long do you think it is until I get to join officially?"

"Let me think a bit. It was like a month for us, but we had school in the meantime, while you live here full time. A lot of time was spent on teaching us how to keep up a secret identity, but maybe they'll skip it and tell you about it later. So, in my estimate, it shouldn't take more than ten days, but a week is not out of the question." My face like an open book, he reads it. "I could get more board games to play in the meantime, so you don't get bored to death."

"I think I'd like that."

It was not long after that it was time for him to leave, and I was once again left alone.

I tried reading, but the books couldn't hold my attention, all their dry details lacking the emotion my power brought forth. Instead of forcing it, I just decided to go to bed early.

Trying to sleep, my thoughts would always become sprawling, unfocused, more vague ideas than defined ideals, running in parallel, commenting on the day, the future, the broken memories, everything.

It must have been at least an hour after I've gotten into bed when a breakthrough came forth, thoughts solidifying, being put into words.

1. I probably don't need as much sleep as a normal human.

2. Corrosive was right.

Standing up for myself, confrontations with other people . . . it was one of the hardest things for me in life. That's why I originally created this power: when I get angry, I transform, lose control, show everyone that they shouldn't fuck with me, and then rebuild myself without outwardly letting anything show.

And it was a valid thought process: wasn't the best life you could live the one where you made it your own? Where you didn't do things you didn't want, where you didn't let other people dictate what you should do? And to get there, it required confrontation, to stand up to others and not let them control my life.

No more, I decided.

Then I almost laughed.

Such a confident declaration, yet I doubted I would actually have the courage to follow up on it when it mattered.

Still, I will try. Because if I didn't try, then I would never succeed, and I didn't want to live an immortal life spineless.

AN: I got a review a couple (days? it all blends together) ago, which was just a smiley face, but I really like it. It felt very blunt and honest.

Fun fact: this is the second draft; there were so many alterations that I just created a second document, sacrificing 3k words from the original one. In general, I think this chapter had to date the most revisions I made in one document.

I remember, that in my first SI fic, "The self insert who didn't want to be a hero", a comment I got on FFN said that the protagonist had literally zero personality beyond being edgy, and the reader just imagined a mix of Vegeta's, Guts', and other anime character's personalities as substitute. That comment hurt, a bit, because at that point it was harder to ignore such words, but over time I got better at it. Still, it sometimes comes up, and I get the urge to go and write scenes which showcase the characters flaws and attributes, so in-your-face that no idiot could miss it. Then I realize that I'm just being arrogant again, and people are not complete imbeciles who couldn't recognize subtext even if it hit them in the face.

The reason the update took this long (and why other ones probably won't come any sooner) is because I didn't really plan out anything. I have some vague ideas, but nothing concrete, so most of the time I just write what comes to mind.

I really wanted to finish it before school started, and I managed! The ending may seem a bit rushed, could have been fleshed out a bit more, but I don't care, I'm just happy that it's done. Next chapter will be the first interlude, it's outline it a bit more solid than this one.

I don't want to make promises, but I'll try to have it done before the end of the month.