"The Vault is recruiting!" Thomas's eyes shone. The very place where the secrets were kept—the very place the Liberators had gutted—was looking for fresh blood.
"Don't get your hopes up," Jax spat, his face flushing a deep red as he glared at a group of well-equipped heroes nearby. "With all these high-rankers coming in from the capital and the northern sectors, we have zero chance. We're just the 'locals' they'll use to sweep the floors."
"Oh, that's not entirely true," a deep, gravelly voice interrupted.
A massive superhero—a man with arms the size of tree trunks and a metallic sheen to his skin—turned to look down at them. He wore a travelling cloak over a set of heavy combat armour.
"The decree states that those originally assigned to the branch get the first interview. You're the 'legacy' staff. We only get the spots you aren't strong enough to hold."
