Justin lowered the crate with a dull, heavy thud and wiped his hands on his pants. He turned and walked toward Liza, posture relaxed but eyes sharp, like he'd already braced himself for whatever was coming.
Liza didn't waste any time. "Are you a total moron," she asked flatly, "or do you just play one when it counts?"
Justin blinked once, then shrugged. "Not the last time I checked. I'm actually super smart," he said, tone light, almost lazy. "It's a whole thing."
Liza's eyes flashed. "Justin." Her voice cut sharp. "This isn't a joke."
That got his attention. He straightened, the humor fading from his face as she stepped closer.
"The Decay Group has eyes and ears everywhere," she said. "You don't taunt them. You don't challenge them in public. And you sure as hell don't declare war on them in the middle of the street." Her jaw tightened. "You painted a target on your back."
Justin held her gaze, unflinching.
"I don't want to see you get hurt," Liza continued, her voice lowering despite herself. "I've seen what they do. And whether you like it or not, I've grown… fond of you."
Justin exhaled slowly. "I appreciate that," he said. "Really. But what's done is done."
She started to argue, but he raised a hand gently. "I've never been good at bellyaching over what already happened. Doesn't change anything." He glanced back at the crate. "The only thing that matters is what I do next."
He met her eyes again. "We were on the ropes back there. All three of us. And that guy wasn't even the boss. Just a high-tier B-rank."
Liza didn't interrupt.
"I said it out loud," Justin went on. "That I'm gonna be S-Rank. Up there with people like Braveshine." His voice tightened. "He led the Sentinel Seven. He's one of the strongest heroes who ever lived. And I couldn't even handle one enforcer."
He looked around the training room, empty and quiet. "So yeah. I'm gonna get stronger. A lot stronger."
Justin nodded toward the crate again. "Evermend said she wasn't born with power. She broke her body down, healed it, and rebuilt it, over and over, until she became what she needed to be." His expression hardened with resolve. "That's what I'm gonna do."
He paused. "I don't plan on dying. I plan on catching up."
Liza shook her head, a tired huff of breath escaping her. "You are a total idiot," she said. "You don't think before you speak, you charge headfirst into things, and for some reason you've got this unshakable belief that everything's just going to work out."
She looked at him for a long moment, eyes searching his face. "And somehow," she added, quieter now, "you're usually right."
Justin didn't interrupt. He let her talk.
"What's done is done," Liza said finally. "You can't unsay something like that. And Decay doesn't forget." Her shoulders squared. "So yeah. All we can do now is prepare for what's coming."
Justin raised an eyebrow. "We?"
She nodded once. No hesitation. "We."
The training room doors slid open behind them with a hiss. Both of them turned as Braxton stepped inside, bruised, wrapped in fresh bandages, and moving a little stiff. He took one look at the two of them and grinned wide.
"Hell yeah, brother," he said. "We're in this together. You come after one of us, you come after all of us."
Justin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Liza crossed her arms. "That means all of us," she said as her gaze hardened. "Whatever the Decay Group sends next, we don't fold."
Braxton cracked his knuckles. "Sounds good to me." Justin nodded in agreement. "Same."
The three of them stood there for a beat, the weight of it settling in. Then, without another word, they split up. Braxton headed for the heavy impact rigs, already rolling his shoulders. Liza moved toward the aerial training harnesses, wings flexing as she checked her gear. Justin walked back to the crate to resume his workout.
The room filled with motion again, steel groaning and machines humming as training began in earnest.
Elsewhere, in her office, Evermend leaned back in her chair, boots propped casually on the edge of her desk as a wall of monitors flickered in front of her. Each screen showed a different angle of the training room below. Steel groaned, machines hummed, and three figures moved with focused intensity.
Captain Fantastica stood nearby, jacket draped over the back of a chair, costume long since swapped for civilian clothes. The weight of the day still lingered in his posture, even without the cape.
"Looks like your little showing worked," he said.
Evermend grinned. "I was hoping it would." She folded her arms, her eyes never leaving the screens. "Sometimes all it takes is showing them how far the ceiling really is."
She glanced sideways at him. "I needed them to understand what they're up against. What this life demands."
Captain Fantastica nodded slowly.
"You think they've got what it takes?" Evermend asked. "To really make it." Her tone softened, losing its edge. "You and I both know how ugly that road gets. How much of yourself it costs."
Her gaze drifted back to the monitors. "We've buried friends who weren't ready for it. People with talent who didn't survive the pressure."
Fantastica exhaled. "I've seen the raw material," he said. "Braxton's strength and instincts are exceptional. Justin's adaptability is rare." He paused. "And Jay-Jay's eye for talent hasn't failed yet."
Evermend hummed in agreement.
"They're rough," Fantastica continued. "Immature. Reckless at times. They've got a lot to learn." A small smile tugged at his mouth. "But they've got heart. A dangerous amount of it."
He watched Justin strain against the crate, Braxton hammering at reinforced targets, and Liza adjusting her flight path with surgical precision. "With the right guidance," he said, "they could become the best heroes this agency's ever produced. At the very least, they've got the potential."
Evermend's smile turned mischievous.
"Well," she said, pushing herself upright and stepping closer, "that sounds an awful lot like someone volunteering to mentor them."
She nudged his arm lightly.
Fantastica stiffened. "Now hold on," he started. "I never said—"
"Captain," Evermend cut in, voice suddenly theatrical, "that wasn't a suggestion."
He stared at her. "You can't be serious."
She leaned in with a sharp grin. "It's an order, soldier boy."
Fantastica sagged with a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You're impossible."
"And you're perfect for this," she replied.
He glanced back at the monitors, watching the rookies push themselves harder with every passing second. "They're going to be a handful."
Evermend's smile softened, pride flickering beneath it. "Good," she said. "That means they're worth it."