Creation 1.4

That morning, Mom came by to pick me up. It took a bit, with a doctor advising me to not move the arm too much, and to avoid any strikes to the head or whiplash for at least a week. He also gave me a prescription for pain medicine, and told us to come back in a week to remove the cast, assuming all went well. Then I was free, if only until we reached the PRT building. Or Fugly Bob's, since we needed breakfast. Delicious, greasy breakfast, determined to finish Gravity's botched job.

Concussions and hours of boredom make me think dark thoughts.

Then to the PRT. A, glassy, open-looking building downtown, which was made slightly depressing by the bars clearly visible behind all the windows. A big shield with a PRT logo denoted that this glassy building in particular was the home of the PRT here, and implied that it was housing a team of super-teens. The lobby was huge, with big pictures of the Wards, nice architecture, and a gift shop. Although the sheer number of flamethrower-esque foam-shooters on the guards sure brought down the average. We walked up to the desk, and my mom said a code phrase – "I'm here to pick up my daughter's lost Velocity Hoodie, the red one" – that she'd been given with the paperwork, and we sat down to wait for our meeting.

After a few minutes, we were directed into a room off the lobby, and I was given a basic mask to wear. We were then taken into a cozy but professional interview room, where a man identified by his door as Deputy Director Renick looked through our paperwork, found it satisfactory, and then proceeded to ask me, "So why do you want to be a hero?"

I looked at him, thinking it out as I pulled out my pad and paper. I first wrote, 'Sorry, powers made me mute. 5 min,' then began to think of how to put it into words, thankful that my mom didn't try to answer for me. After a few minutes of silence, I had it as good as I could get it on the page.

'I was in a bad place, and still am, but what pulled me out of the idea of ending it was the thought that it wouldn't fix anything, only hurt. I know that every life means something to someone, and taking something from someone is wrong, not just as a rules thing, but as a moral problem. I want to be a Hero because I've been to dark places already, and want to protect people from that loss, that darkness, that pain. I want to stop the bad.'

They read it, and then, Renick just stared at me. He looked like he was having problems reconciling the writing with the 8-year old boy in front of him. He looked shaken for a moment more, then regained his composure. My mother looked sad, but smiled. I knew she had thought of her bad days. Then Renick spoke. "To be honest, I would have expected that from someone like Armsmaster, or maybe Chevalier. You certainly have their spirit, kid."

I smiled and wrote, 'I also had a family around, couldn't exactly join some villains, right?' He chuckled, and with the ice broken, asked my mom about scheduling power testing. After a few minutes of small items like that, he turned back to me and asked, "Do you have a cape name yet?" I shook my head, and wrote. 'Element might work, but I bet someone has that,' and he nodded back. "Tinker at UCLA, does chemical reactions that defy analysis, like most Tinkertech. Actually contributed to Containment Foam, if I remember." I shrugged, figuring I'd find something soon. How hard could it be to find a name about classical elements and dream worlds?

Finally, he asked the magic question. "So, would you like to meet the Wards? We can schedule a meeting later today, say…4:00?" My mom said yes, and both ignored my bobble head impression, smiling softly to themselves. They exchanged pleasantries, then we broke for lunch.

Food, glorious food! Et cetera, et cetera. Sonny's Chicken by the Boardwalk, in this case, with ice cream after. I had a suspicion that all this fast food was a bribe or reward or something. Eh, I'll take it. After that, I requested we go home, and then I'd try to explain my powers as best I could.

After we got home, we sat down in the living room, got comfy, and I readied my pad, ignoring the pain as my meds began to wear off. I'd fix it later. After a minute, my mom prompted me by opening with, "So, I thought it might be strength, but the name didn't fit. I assume you know already, so…" I raised my hand, and she smiled again.

'I can control the classical elements with martial arts, I think.' 'I also have these dream worlds, but'…'While I know there's more to that power, I think I'll leave that for power testing.' 'They remind me of the fall, a bit.'

She took that in, then nodded softly. "I'm sad to hear that, I was going to ask if you could show me. I'm proud of you, baby. You were brave today, and I really realized that even though you're young, you've grown up a lot. I'm…I'm so sorry!" She broke down into tears, sweeping me into a soft, slightly painful hug. I reached around as far as I could with my good arm, patting her on her side as I wished that I could just say, "It's okay."

Instead, I just leaned into her hug, holding her as she sobbed. She apologized about missing the signs, for being too depressed to realize I was hurting, for not listening to the explanations of a child, even hers. She poured her heart out, and said she thought I was stronger than her, to stop the first time, to choose to bear it. I held her as she cried, and listened.

I knew later she might feel silly, crying to a third grader, an 8-year-old, even if she knew I was no average boy. I knew she would still treat me like a know-nothing child on occasion, but all mothers do. I knew I was not supposed to understand, and that I did, and that even if I was not mature, I was going to help my mother. I would not crawl away from the darkness only to leave her behind.

After all, what kind of hero would save only those already in the light?

-Shangri-La-

Armsmaster greeted me as I stepped into the hallway, mask on my face. I grinned as he shook my hand, then held up a quickly scrawled note that said, 'Hi, I'm Michael, nice to meet you!' He nodded, and greeted me back, "Armsmaster, or Colin if you prefer. I'm the leader of the Protectorate here in the Bay. I'm excited to find out what you bring to the team, Michael, especially considering your age."

I frowned. He noticed, and clarified, "What I mean is, younger parahumans tend to be much stronger and broader in scope, as a rule. Our own Vista triggered at 10, and she is one of the stronger shakers on record; you are 8, making you one of the youngest confirmed triggers the PRT has seen, and you aren't even a second or third generation cape."

I guess that made sense. Could've worded it better, but can't fault him for that. Footmouth syndrome is a terrible affliction. I wrote, 'I hope to find out, but my main power needs martial arts to be used, so we might need to test over time.' 'I think I have a Cape name in mind.' He looked interested, and asked me what it was.

I had given it some thought after my mother had stopped crying. I controlled the elements, and knew secret places, and I wanted to find a name that captured the concept of elements and creation. A quick search showed that many cultures developed a concept of four to eight elements, but I had to avoid German, Chinese, Japanese and Tibetan names for gang reasons, and Greek was too clunky to use. I eventually settled on the alchemic traditions; English enough to be useable, but with extra meaning. Alchemy had the concept of a base material, or prima materia, from which all other materials could be crafted, and which had features of all the elements.

'Materia. Base of all elements, seemed appropriate.'

He nodded, then without another word, led me to the elevator. It was such a smooth ride, if not for the resonance of the air outside, I might not have noticed it moving down. Shortly, we arrived, stepped out, and headed down the hallway until we reached a door. He hit a buzzer next to it while I affixed a note to my chest.

After a few seconds, the door opened. Inside, there were more capes than a Power Rangers team, and they were way cooler, too. It wasn't just the Wards; Glory Girl and Panacea were there too. Only Kid Win and Shadow Stalker were missing. I wondered why, but quickly figured I'd find out soon, and waved hello. Panacea stepped forward, peering at the note.

"Hello…Materia. I'm Amy Dallon, aka Panacea. Renick told Ca - Brandish there was a new Ward coming in, and mentioned he might need a bit of healing, so before I shake your hand, do I have permission to heal you?" I nodded, offering my hand to her. She took it, then said, "Humeral fracture, easy enough; damaged shoulder cartilage, hairline fracture in the scapula, done; and minor concussion, although I can't do anything for that. Should clear up in a few days, though. Want a quick tune-up? Might help with testing, but you'll need to eat more." I nodded again, and a few moments later, I felt like I just chugged a ton of sodas.

I quickly turned the handshake into a chivalrous kiss on the hand, a sweeping motion with my casted, but cured, arm. I then pulled out the pad and wrote, 'Thank you, really. And call me Michael.' and handed that to her, her look of mild shock turning to confusion as she saw me use the pad. She took the note, then said, "You're mute? I didn't see any health problems that could cause that, mental or otherwise."

'Powers took it,' I wrote. She gave a sympathetic look, and looked to say more, but was interrupted by a bemused voice saying, "Hey Ames, you gonna share the kid with the rest of us?"

We both blushed as we realized a full room of people had sat patiently while we had a conversation at the door, in full view of everyone, smiles growing slowly from second to second as they accumulated moments to tease us for. We were doomed. And it was only getting worse. Finally we were saved by a knight in shining – no, it was just Gallant.

"So, are you going to introduce us?" he said in a kind tone. Clockblocker chimed in, "Or do we have to wait for the wedding invites?" Gallant shot him a look, and Vista bent space and elbowed him, and the tension was broken. Amy gestured to me and said, "This is Materia. Apparently his power made him mute, so please treat him well, and don't overwhelm him." She glanced at Glory Girl, "That includes you, Vicky!"

I waved, and the introductions began. First up, Glory Girl, who rushed over and swept me up in a hug. A very tight hug, hello super strength, pleased to meet you too. She cried out, "He's cute, can I keep him?" I was now trying to escape, but, well, super strength. I was lucky I had been healed before the hug. "Vicky! No! I literally just said not to overwhelm him!" "But Aaameess!" and she let go. I pantomimed taking a huge breath, then laughed it off as best I could. God, I missed vocal chords. My laugh was all whispery now.

After Hurricane Victoria, the other Wards introduced themselves. It was pretty funny getting frozen by Clockblocker-handshake, and Triumph seemed like a good guy. Vista looked…bittersweet about it all, and Aegis and Gallant were both polite, although Gallant gave me an odd look every now and then. After a bit, Amy and Vicky excused themselves, citing hospital visits, and then, the big question that would shake our team paradigm forever came up: Would we…Unmask?

Duh.

I went first, pulling out the other note with one hand and my mask with the other, I reintroduced myself as Michael. Vista went next; apparently, she was Missy, a girl in Lord Elementary's eighth grade class; we had seen each other here and there between classes and at assemblies. Carlos, Dennis, Dean and Rory each introduced themselves; they all went to Arcadia, and I asked if any of them knew David, my brother. Carlos had talked with him a bit, and Dennis shared a class. "I might need to get to know him better, now." he said, "Not every day you meet the older brother of a teammate." I would have to warn him about the prankster.

Stalker and Kid Win had patrol, so they assigned Missy to guide me to the built-in hospital to get my now-defunct and clunky cast removed. Along the way, she sighed, and started talking. "So, welcome to the team. Gotta say, I won't miss being the youngest one here - no offense!" She looked worried she might have struck a chord.

I chuckled, the sound coming out more like a short series of huffs as I wrote. 'Youngest does suck, but I already do this shtick.' 'Very smart for my age, read at your grade level, reason at least as well as an 11-12 year old, maybe more.' 'Not taken seriously. Ignored. Led to situation that caused trigger.' 'Getting past it.'

She read each as I tore them off, and laughed a bit, until the third one. She looked at me after the fourth. "Wow, you triggered off it, and you're okay with it? That's… I don't even think about my trigger if I can. You sure you aren't a third-gen cape?" I nodded. "Well, I'm always here if you need a sympathetic ear, I know the kind of bullshit they do with the youngest one. Anyway, here we are."

We quickly got the attention of a nurse, who directed us to a side room. We waited a bit, then a doctor came in, sawed through the cast, and gave me a note to give to my primary care physician, forward dated, stating that it was removed by so-and-so for such-and-such, so my ID wouldn't be compromised. Then, we headed back up, me writing out notes in advance for the inevitable power discussion when the others returned. In the meantime, pizza was served in the Wards room, and there was much rejoicing.

A few minutes later, Dennis on the console said, "Incoming friendlies, ETA 5 minutes." Then he mumbled, "Although, it might be 'Friendly and Unfriendly'," to a nod from Missy. I wondered what that was about.

It didn't take long to find out.