Z-City

5:00am

It was still dark outside, but 7 hours of rest was more than enough for Bruce. Or it would have been had he not stayed up past 10, pondering his recent revelation. His laptop was displaying the Hero Association's website, his registration for the entrance exam - taking place later today - being sent in at the last minute.

Bruce rose from his bed to begin his morning workout with some yoga stretches. Since he didn't have access to his cave or home gym, he'd need to make do with calisthenics. While positioning himself and performing an eight angle pose, Bruce was reminded of his early days when he was still a child, looking for any means to get stronger.

He begged and pleaded with Alfred to help him train, to stop him from feeling like a helpless victim. Of course, his surrogate father wouldn't deny Bruce, and he helped his charge by any means necessary. Boxing lessons, strength and conditioning, but most importantly, being there for him.

None of that was enough. Not for Bruce.

Even after pushing his adolescent body to the limit, coming back to his palatial room sore and bruised, Bruce didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Instead of letting his body heal with sleep, he would just continue his training in isolation. Push-ups, sit-ups, jumping jacks, shadow boxing. Naturally, his training regimen would become more grueling and sophisticated as the years went on, but right now, Bruce felt like he was reliving the past.

He shifted from his angled pose, never letting his body touch the ground save for his palms, and he transitioned into a one-armed handstand. His body became completely vertical with only his left hand touching the floor. He widened his legs into a split pose and became still as stone. Bruce shifted his hand, taking his palm off the ground and supporting himself with just his fingers. Five fingers became four, then three, then two, until it was just his index finger touching the ground. His breathing never changed its steady pace, and his muscles never strained from the exertion.

Bruce remembered one night, after a particularly taxing sparring session, he was in his room practicing his strikes. He resolved to start punching his wall to strengthen his knuckles, his small fists becoming bloody as he refused to let his hands rest. He made too much noise, causing Alfred to barge through the door, kneeling down to grab Bruce by the shoulders, You're pushing yourself too far! This isn't healthy. I beg of you, Master Bruce, stop trying to seek absolution for something that isn't your fault!

Bruce wasn't a kid anymore, but he'd give anything to hear the old man's lectures again. He never did listen to Alfred though. He didn't allow himself to heal from the physical or emotional pain, not in the conventional sense. Instead, he harnessed the trauma, using it as fuel to push past his limits, to master himself, to become something… more.

He pushed his body up with his finger and backflipped onto his feet. Subpar for a warm-up, but I guess it can't be helped.

Bruce moved his feet closer together, moving his hands to chest height and shoulder width apart, before falling face first onto the floor. He caught himself with his arms and immediately transitioned into pushups. 1,000 ought to get the blood pumping. Pull-ups are next. I guess I should use the railing outside? Hopefully, my neighbors aren't early risers.

—

6:30 am

With his workout nearly complete, Bruce decided to go for a morning jog. He needed to buy new clothes anyway, so it'd be like killing two birds with one stone. He put on his pants and sneakers before leaving his apartment and setting off. This city was already becoming familiar to him, and his mind worked subconsciously to memorize the layout of his surroundings. The streets were nearly empty, with the exception of a few citizens. Bruce drew some glances as he passed by people, but he paid it no mind.

The neighborhood that his apartment was situated in was surrounded by cafes, food stands, a hardware store and other types of businesses. The apparel store was in the town square about 3 miles away, and he remembered how to get there. I guess that's my first stop.

Bruce picked up his pace, not wanting to be out in public any longer than he needed to be, especially without a shirt on.

S-Class.

Bruce let out a sigh as he raced down the sidewalk. If that was truly what the imp wanted, then he knew he had his work cut out for him.

He began to think of the data he retrieved from yesterday's research session. Information on this group was scant compared to the other heroes under the Association's umbrella, but there were bits and pieces that Bruce was able to pick up by looking at social media, fan forums, and news articles, cross-referencing them with the official info posted on the Hero Association's website.

Each member of this so-called S-Class is a wellspring of power. Metahumans with immense strength, blinding speed, nigh invulnerability, cyborgs armed to the teeth with bleeding edge weaponry, telekinetics…

Bruce increased his speed to a full sprint, Compared to them, I'm nothing but an ant. Is it even… feasible for me to…. He shook his head, forcing himself to not continue with that thought.

Bruce arrived at the town square, making a straight bee line for the apparel store. He took out his flip-phone to check the time.

6:34 am

Not bad.

He took a small breath, combing his raven-black hair back with his hand, and pulled the door open.

Taking a look around the shop, Bruce noticed the counter on his right, with the woman at the POS looking up from her phone at him, and her eyebrows raised slightly as she did so. She had orange hair tied into twin tails, a green work vest and white button up shirt. "Uh…Sir?" she pointed to the wall behind her, gesturing to a sign - beneath a shelf of make-up kits - reading in bold Japanese characters roughly translating to:

NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO SERVICE

Bruce adopted a casual persona, walking to the register, and flashed a charming smile, "I figured a clothing store of all places would be willing to make an exception."

Getting a closer look at Bruce's face made the clerk blush slightly, but she stood her ground, "Sorry. No exceptions," she retorted. She offered a shrug, "My boss is kinda strict about this stuff."

Bruce looked at the sign, then back to her, "Well, I'm 1 for 2," he pointed to his sneakers.

"Well… that's not a- um," she closed her eyes and shook her head. She let out a small scoff before opening her eyes again, "You get a kick outta weirding people out or something?"

Bruce let out a practiced chuckle, "Not usually, no. I just need a fresh wardrobe," he took out the yen from his pocket, holding it up next to his face, "I got the cash, if that's what you're worried about."

She examined the money in Bruce's hand, "...Fine. Just get outta here before my manager…. shows…." her voice trailed off. The clerk was so busy looking at Bruce's face that she didn't spot the scars marking his torso until now.

Immediately picking up on this, Bruce looked down nonchalantly before looking back up at her, "Sorry," he switched his tone to convey a sense of sheepishness, driving home the act by putting his right arm over his chest, as if in a vain attempt to hide his wounds, "These were from a monster attack."

She made eye contact with Bruce again, and he could see a hint of wariness in her eyes, "What monster attack?" Her suspicion was growing.

"That's really none of your business."

She scowled at his response, "It is my business if you want to shop in this store." Her tone was becoming more firm.

Bruce let out a sigh, pausing before answering her question to add some dramatic effect, "…Over in City Q. I lived there for a couple months. Was nearly killed by some creeps until I was saved by a hero," Bruce's mind was pulling up his research from the day before, formulating it into a cover story.

"Oh yeah? Who?" The question, though fueled by suspicion, carried a hint of genuine curiosity.

"Watchdog-Man. I thought I was a goner till he showed up…" he added onto this tale by looking down at the floor, acting like he was reminiscing on a memory, "He came out of nowhere… tore those things up in the blink of an eye," Bruce's gaze turned up once more, "Alright… if you don't want me to shop here, that's fine. I'm sorry for freaking you out with," he gestured to his body, "…this."

Bruce turned on his heels to exit the store. He walked to the door and pushed it open.

"Wait!"

Gotcha.

Bruce turned his head back to her.

"Look," she pursed her lips, "I apologize. I overstepped. It's just that, like, there's been a lot of crazy stuff going on here recently… couldn't be too careful... You can buy what you need here."

—

7:00am

Bruce walked out of the apparel shop with a bag in his hand, wearing a form fitting gray t-shirt, a black windbreaker with the zipper down, and another pair of black pants. In the bag were some extra clothes, along with his old ones, and a make-up kit he knew he would need later.

He took out the remaining cash from his pocket, Luckily, I got these clothes at a reduced price. Guess my story worked better than I thought. With the remaining money, I should be able to buy some food for myself. I haven't had a proper meal in a while. Bruce put his hood up and walked down the sidewalk.

At this point, he already had a good idea of the layout of this neighborhood. He began heading in the direction of the local supermarket which was near his apartment. The streets, though still mostly empty, began to show more signs of life. People were lined up at bus stops, and students with drained looks on their faces were making their daily treks to school.

Along the way, Bruce began to map out his long term plans, In order to get to S-Class, I need to officially join the ranks of the Hero Association, he grimaced slightly at the thought of it before moving on, To do that, I'll need to get a passing grade for their entrance exams, which I already signed up for.

REEE-REEE-REEE

Bruce immediately went on high alert as the alarm blared.

"ATTENTION ALL CITIZENS, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY EVACUATION WARNING FROM THE HERO ASSOCIATION. MULTIPLE DEMON LEVEL MONSTERS HAVE BEEN SPOTTED IN THE EASTERN DISTRICT OF Z-CITY. CLEAR THE AREA, STAY IN YOUR HOMES, AND WAIT FOR YOUR HEROES TO ELIMINATE THE CREATURES. THE HERO ASSOCIATION APPRECIATES YOUR COOPERATION."

Bruce didn't miss a beat as he hid his bag of clothes in an alley and immediately sprinted off, heading east. The few people who were on the streets were sent into a frenzy, with some running off in seemingly random directions, others speeding off in their cars, and a few scurrying into the closest building they could see. The eastern district?

In an effort to get a more precise location for the alert, he began pulling up his mental catalog of information, There exists a derelict part of Z-City, located in the east. Known to be a hot spot of monster activity.

He increased his speed, taking all the shortcuts he could in order to shorten his ETA. Long term plans be damned, right now, the only thing Bruce was focused on was getting there as fast as possible. Every second that passed meant another life lost in his mind. Demon level monsters. I'm unarmed, unarmored. Can I really do this?

Bruce silenced that doubt as he turned a corner. He could see the perimeter of the Ghost Town up ahead, keeping his wits about him for any nearby threats.

I'll find a way. No matter wha-

*BOOOOOM*

A sound like thunder rang in Bruce's ears before he felt a strong shockwave carrying a burst of wind. He put his arms up to shield his face, nearly being knocked off his feet from the force. He heard glass shattering all around him, and car alarms were set off all at once. He kept his balance as the shockwave subsided before he began to run again, Was I too late? Don't think like that, Bruce. Just keep moving…!

As the cacophony subsided, Bruce was able to triangulate where the boom came from. At this point, he was deep into the abandoned part of the city. Stopping just 1 block short from the potential battle site, he scaled a 5 story building to gain a better view of what was to come, and gauge the threats he was about to face. Climbing up onto the roof, he crouched down and made his way to the northside of the building, peering over the parapet.

He expected to see a horde of powerful monsters, but the sight that greeted Bruce left him in a rare state of shock. Instead of finding a gaggle of beasts, he came upon their corpses, torn apart and strewn about. He waited there for a few moments, making sure the coast was clear of any stragglers, before scaling down the building to get a closer look.

He touched down onto the ground, and walked to the pile of corpses. His sneakers squelched as he stepped on the viscous blood.

Looking around for the person responsible and seeing no one, Bruce began to examine the scene. He looked down at the corpses at his feet, or what was left of them. A pair of gargantuan legs here, a dismembered pincer hand there. It looked as though a bomb went off. It's hard to tell, but judging by the distinct muscle composition, texture, and pigment of the remaining parts, this ocean of gore came from 5 to 7 monsters…

The streets were devoid of life here, the buildings on either side had all their windows blown out. Bruce looked at the blood splatter, seeing the red liquid covering a large part of the road and painting the walls of the buildings, A singular, large boom, but no scorch marks in sight. That rules out an explosion.

He put the pieces together, but the chaotic scene only offered an opaque image at best, Someone, or something, came along and dispatched multiple high level threats with a single devastating strike, powerful enough to produce a shockwave to blow out all the nearby windows, most likely without the use of high powered weapons…

He stood there for a moment longer, his eyes committing every last gruesome detail to memory. He looked up ahead, down the road, and deeper into the heart of the abandoned town. Right now, among the blood and guts, Bruce couldn't help but feel as if he was an ant again. Normally, he wouldn't rest until he solved the mystery lying before him, but seeing as how the immediate threat of monsters had been… 'pacified', and given the fact that he was in a strict time crunch, Bruce decided to put a pin on this and come back to it later.

—

9:00 am

Dawn gave way to day, but the clouds in the sky prevented the sun from fully illuminating the city below. Bruce walked back into his apartment with a bag of clothes in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other, along with a small cooking pot he bought. He walked over to the fridge, filling the cool, empty space with some fresh produce while leaving what he needed out on the kitchenette for his breakfast.

Some oatmeal, a banana, 2 eggs to be hard boiled, and orange juice, Some things never change.

The Exams were in a couple of hours, and Bruce needed to give his body some fuel. The better his results, the higher he'd be placed. The higher he'd be placed, the closer his goal would be. He filled the pot with water, placed it on the kitchenette stove, turned on the gas, and waited for the water to boil. His thoughts were still on what he had seen earlier today, at the sheer power he felt and witnessed the aftermath of. He looked back at his cabinet, at the claw he obtained from yesterday's battle, That was only a Tiger level enemy. From what I understand, for something to be designated as a Demon level monster, it'd have to be strong enough to threaten an entire city. Taking out just 1 Demon is a monumental feat in and of itself, let alone an entire group of them. Could there have been an S-Class hero lurking in Z-City?

His thoughts continued as the water began to bubble and steam. He placed 2 eggs into the water, Regardless, it's something that'll have to be uncovered at a later time.

Bruce finished making his breakfast, and he stood there at the kitchenette while consuming the meal, The task ahead is what matters right now. I've no desire to join the ranks of this organization, but in order to 'win' this game, I have to play by the imp's rules. The thought of Bat-mite caused Bruce to eat with an even more brooding expression.

—

After fueling up, Bruce took out the makeup kit he bought earlier and went to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror as he carefully applied the makeup to his face, making it look like he had some stubble on his chin, Even with the fact that I'm in a different dimension, anonymity remains my top priority. The most crucial aspects of a good disguise are a change in complexion, Bruce thought as he carefully applied some cosmetics over his right eye, making it look like a scar, and a single, noticeable, distracting detail.

—

Hero Certification Exam Venue No.6

12:00 pm

The dome-like structure loomed large as Bruce approached it. The venue was crowded and alive with chatter, with people from all over the city eagerly making their way inside. Bruce carried a small shopping bag with a change of clothes and a pen as entered the packed building. The interior was expansive, with stanchions setup for the multiple lines of applicants, leading to a registration desk with multiple queues. Bruce looked around at the multitudes of other people, men and women from all different walks of life, all aspiring to be heroes. Some were physically imposing, others were as frail as a wilting flower, a few were even dressed head to toe in their hero outfit - either because they were so confident in their ability to ace the exams, or because they knew this would be the one and only time they would be able to wear it before they inevitably failed. Bruce got in line and waited until it was his turn to register.

"Next!" said the man behind queue 7.

Bruce walked up to the queue. The man looked at Bruce, "Hood off, please," he ordered Bruce in an impatient tone.

Bruce complied, taking off the black hood. The man slightly raised his eyebrow as he got a good look at the scar over the applicant's eye, "Name?"

"I registered under Matches."

"...Peculiar name," the man whispered under his breath as he looked for the name on the sheet, "Malone, Matches?" he said, looking back up at Bruce.

"Yeah, that's me." Bruce nodded.

The man pointed to another line to Bruce's right, "Stand there and wait to have your picture taken," he said as he slid a piece of paper across the desk to Bruce, "That sheet will tell you which rooms your written and fitness examinations will be held in. Good luck, Malone-San."

"Thank-"

"Next!" the man called out.

—

Room II

12:45 pm

Sitting there at his desk, waiting for the proctor to come in and administer the exam, made Bruce feel like he was back in school. He sat there patiently, listening in on the conversations of his fellow test-takers.

"You study for this..?"

"If I fail this, my parents will disown me…!"

"I got this in the bag…"

"Ah shit, I'm in the wrong room…"

The conversations stopped abruptly when the proctor entered the room. He was wearing a black suit with a white dress shirt and green tie. His light brown hair was parted in the middle, and a pair of silver, round framed glasses adorned his face. He carried with him a stack of packets, walking around the room and setting one down on each of the desks, "You all know why you're here, so I'll cut to the chase. You may begin the exam only when I say so. Writing utensils will not be provided,"

"Fuck!" a man sitting behind Bruce muttered.

"..." the man continued, "To be forgetful of the most basic things is indication of one's inability to take on the duties of Herodom," his gaze fell on the mutterer. The proctor's demeanor was calm, yet he exuded an air of authority. The man sitting behind Bruce got up and walked out of the classroom with his head hung low, shutting the door behind him. The proctor continued on, "You will have one hour to complete all 50 questions. Some are multiple choice, some are short answer, all are designed to measure your mental acumen, and your sense of heroism and justice. The last question will require you to write a 1 page essay stating your world view and mission statement. Any person caught cheating will be barred from applying to the Hero Association for life, understood?"

The proctor looked around the room at the nervous applicants.

"...seriously? Just one hour?" one of them whispered.

He glanced at one scarred man who seemed to match his cool aura before dismissing it, "Begin."

Almost in unison, everyone in the room opened their packets and began answering the questions on the paper. Bruce looked down at his sheet, and speed-read through the pages. The questions pertained to team coordination, strategy and tactics, safety understanding, and morality, with a healthy sprinkle of mathematics. He clicked his pen and began his work.

—

Performance Room IV

2:00pm

One down, one to go.

The performance room that Bruce stood in could've been its own venue. The vaulted ceiling was over 100 feet high, with the area of the room coming out to a little over 17,000 square feet. He changed out of his street clothes and into a pair of gray gym shorts and tank top.

Lateral jumps were first on the list. Bruce questioned the placement of such an exercise being part of the criteria, If they wanted to test one's light footedness, then there are far better exercises to gauge that attribute. He did the lateral jumps with flawless agility and foot speed. His years of training and jumping across rooftops made this challenge a piece of cake. Some of the other people performing the lateral jumps glanced at his display of dexterity before they looked straight ahead again and doubled their own efforts.

Next was the 1500 meter dash.

Bruce took his place in line with all the others, each person in the starting block position, waiting for the race to commence. He closed his eyes and tuned out all the ambient noise emanating in the room, focusing only on the sound of his breathing, and waited for the starter to begin the race.

"Ready…"

"Set…"

"GO."

In an instant, Bruce's eyes shot open and his legs propelled him forward. His conditioning had often been compared to Olympians, but the truth was, he had reached a level that could be classified as far superior, an incomparable athlete. Each of his attributes worked in perfect synergy, allowing Bruce to keep a healthy lead over the other runners. The association's timekeeper, and some other spectators observing the dash, were slightly taken aback by what they were witnessing. As Bruce crossed the finish line in first place, the timekeeper looked down at his stopwatch. 67.9 seconds. The other applicants eventually finished in their own time, tired and out of breath.

Up next was weight lifting and vertical jumps. Bruce performed them with the same ease as he did with the previous physical trials. His regular workout regimen would have him lifting over 1000 pounds, sometimes reaching a ton in weight. He put the weights on the barbell and lifted it clean over his head, keeping it there in place for a while to make sure the overseers took note of it, before placing the barbell back down at his feet. His legs proved to be of equal conditioning, giving him a score of well over 10 feet for the vertical jump.

—

Locker Room

3:30 pm

The tests were done, and all that was left to do was to take a shower and await the results. Bruce went to his locker, taking out a towel and change of clothes from his bag. He waited until the room was empty and stepped into the shower.

At the risk of tempting fate, I'm certain that I passed, Bruce thought as he turned on the hot water, The real question is what class I ranked into. The chances of me getting S-Rank off the bat are nil… but getting C-Class seems just as unlikely.

He stepped out of the shower, changing back into his t-shirt, windbreaker and jeans, and reapplied the makeup that had washed off. Bruce waited on the bench until a member of the Hero Association walked in and handed him a manila folder containing his results. Bruce let out a breath before he opened the folder and took out the sheet of paper.

Hero Association Entrance Exam Results

Malone, Matches.

The person above achieved the rank of:

B Class

This is the certificate to prove that you have passed with a score of 89/100.

Written Exam: 50/50

Physical Exam: 39/50

Bruce felt slightly disappointed at his results, but he remained stoic on the outside, Not what I was hoping for, but it's a start. He wasn't too surprised, though. This was a world filled with superhumans, much like his own, so to get a perfect physical score would most likely indicate some form of superhuman strength.

The PA system crackled to life.

"Malone-San, a seminar for successful applicants begins at 16:00. Please come to Hall 3."

—

4:00pm

The seminar room was filled with empty seats. Bruce picked a spot in the center of the front row, directly across from the speaker. The speaker at the podium had spiky black hair, an angular face, and a snake-print suit, I've seen his picture on the H.A's website. Snek, Class-A Rank 37. Snek directed his gaze at Bruce, opting for silence while Bruce stared back at him.

"..."

"..."

"It seems that you're the only one who passed the trials this year," Snek's words broke the awkward silence, "Judging by your results, you may have some potential, but don't let it get to your head. The Association has seen its fair share of new recruits who have failed to rise to the challenge, so don't think you're special just because you passed the initial recruitment stage, but I digress."

Bruce remained silent while Snek continued, "From now on, you will be held to a higher standard compared to that of the average person. Your name and face will be on our website for the world to see, so everything you do, you do as a representative of the Hero Association. Is that clear?"

Bruce nodded.

"Good. In case you didn't already know, the way to rise through the rankings is to accrue points. Points are gained by fulfilling various heroic duties - helping with disaster relief, saving civilians, apprehending criminals, and defeating monsters. Daily conduct and popularity is also taken into account, so" Snek's hand gestured to Bruce's attire, "make yourself look more presentable, try working on getting a good costume. And cover up that scarred mug."

"Noted," Bruce replied.

"hmph.. Keep your wits about you, and maybe you will progress far into the ranks," Snek grinned slightly, "Maybe you'll even reach Class-A like yours truly."

Snek waited for a reaction out of Bruce, but he received none.

Is he expecting a standing ovation?

Snek let out a sigh and waved Bruce off with a gesture, "Dismissed."

—

4:30pm

As Bruce was walking home, he came upon the city's edge overlooking the ocean. The clouds from earlier in the day had since parted, offering up a scenic view of the sun dipping below the ocean's line. Bruce stopped his pace and stared out at the sea.

S-Class. That lofty goal that sat atop a mountain. He replayed the scene he saw earlier, of the demon level monsters he came upon.

It had been a long time since he had felt like this, a long time since Bruce felt like he was starting from scratch. Back at home, he had a base of operations, he had Wayne Enterprises, he had a family and friends he could rely on. But now? It was just him and him alone. The memory played in his mind's eye, of the time he spent alone in his room striking at the wall, repeating the act until the bones in his small hands were broken, Back then, I was aimless. It was just as much about me punishing myself as it was about getting stronger. I'm not that boy anymore… not just in the physical sense, but in the way that matters more. Bruce thought about Alfred, his sons, Barbara, and Jim, all back at home, still suspended in time, I know what I'm fighting for.

His thoughts then flashed with images of his friends in the League, memories of him - a mere mortal, an ant in comparison - standing shoulder to shoulder with Gods.

S-Class, His jaw clenched as he felt a surge of determination, Difficult, not impossible.

—

Back at the exam venue, Snek's office

Snek was sitting at his desk and sipping on his afternoon tea. Another man was in the room with him, standing by the open window and looking down at the streets. It was the proctor from before.

Snek sighed, "Are things really that bad?"

The proctor picked his head up, "What do you mean?"

"The exams today," Snek said as he placed his cup down.

The proctor tilted his glasses up, "You know as much as anyone how stringent the exams are meant to be, old friend. We're raising the bar, so even getting into Class-C nowadays is becoming more difficult. If battling against the Monster Association has taught us anything, it's that we need to bolster our ranks with only the best."

"That's not what I meant, Jinzuren. A low number of successful applicants is nothing new," Snek scoffed while shaking his head, "But for thousands to apply… and only one to pass? Be straight with me, what do you think the odds are for him?"

Jinzuren, ever the thoughtful man, took his time to answer Snek's query, "Malone got perfect marks on his written test, finishing it before any of the others in the room. His performance is heavily suggestive of a brilliant intellect underneath that scarred visage, but he'll need to get some field work in before we can say for sure."

Snek listened intently, picking up his cup to take another sip of tea. Jinzuren continued with his assessment, "The level of physicality he displayed during the 2nd phase of the exam… He didn't come close to breaking the established records, but it was still impressive nonetheless."

Snek let out a light chortle, "tch… high praise. Why not make him Class-A while you're at it?"

"The recruit will have to prove himself first. He's a part of the Association now, so it's sink or swim time," Jinzuren turned from the window to face Snek, "But joining the ranks of A… that day may very well come. Does that bother you?"

Snek fell silent, looking down at his desk.

Jinzuren's smiled before quickly shifting back into a neutral expression, "Well, it all remains to be seen," Jinzuren paused for a moment, "...You're not going to go 'Rookie-Crushing' again, are you? Remember how well that played out the last time?"

Snek grumbled while he sipped his tea, "...don't remind me."