7 May The Odds Forever Be In Your Favor

Mage woke up sometime later at the clinic he was previously in. He blinked his eyes, adjusting to the lighting as he tried to recall what happened. A moment later, he winced as he remembered the terrible pain and the horrible smell of burnt flesh. He hurriedly looked down his body to check if there were any burn marks.

He gave a sigh of relief at the sight of his smooth skin that seemed much better than it previously was.

"You're finally awake, Thank God!" said a male voice to his right.

Mage was startled and looked over. Lying on a bed identical to his was a boy with red hair smiling at him.

"How long was I out?" Mage asked.

"A day, which considering that you looked like deadpool when you were brought in, is a rather appropriate time."

"Ha-ha, I was just joking." The boy laughed as he saw Mage's eyes widen in alarm. "Only about the time though, you did look like deadpool when you were carried in. Oh, that was about two hours ago."

"Deadpool, huh?" Mage said. "I seem to have recovered pretty well. So do you. Why are you still here?"

"Yeah," The boy replied. "But they told me I had to rest here until this afternoon at least."

"Why?"

"Bullshit about broken bones needing to rest even after healing." The boy raised his right arm as he explained. "Leo's the name by the way."

"Mage," Mage nodded."How did you break the arm?"

"I punched someone."

Mage raised an eyebrow.

"He can partially turn into steel."

Mage let out a low whistle.

"And he waited until I was running at him with super speed before morphing. That was my first match, it was an unpleasant experience." Leo shuddered. "What about you?"

"It was my second match. So, are they going to tell us when everyone is done fighting, or do we just chill here till we feel we should leave?"

"Oh, you're free to go anytime. In fact, if you hurry you might still catch the last of the girls' matches."

"What about the boys? Mage asked.

"Those wrapped up about twenty minutes ago. Someone already texted me some of the rankings." Leo said.

"Your roommate?"

"Nope, I've not met them yet. This was a friend I made outside."

"Oh, so how high did you rank?" Mage asked

"More like how low," Leo scoffed. "Fourty-five out of fifty one. I can only take solace in the fact that some people were worse than me."

"That sucks," Mage agreed. "I wonder how I did."

"Better than I did for sure. Even my friend is rank thirty. He made it to the second round before getting knocked out. You can't blame him though. I mean, the bloke who took him out did end up going all the way to first rank."

Mage's interest was piqued as he asked, "Who was that?"

"I don't know either." Leo said. "My friend said it was some dude named Quinn."

…

In the principal's office,

Dean Felix sat at his desk, looking across the mahogany surface at his guest. It was a short man, you could tell even though he was sitting, he was wearing a black suit with black tie and a pair of glasses added a scholarly vibe to his outlook. His name was Carl Simpson.

"When I agreed to accept those two," Dean Felix started, "I did so with the understanding that this was so as to change the prejudiced view that some powers are inherently evil."

"Correct." Carl said.

"I did so to give these kids an opportunity to get some measure of control in a life that was basically decided for them the moment they awakened those powers. These kids have been spurned by fate and society alike, yet now they can work towards a goal: Becoming Heroes, and showing the world what good they can do when given a chance to. This was the way your boss pitched it, correct?"

"I was not present at that time, but it's most likely correct. " Carl replied.

Suddenly, the Dean smiled. "This brings me to why I called you here. Would you like to guess why?"

"I don't make guesses." Carl shook his head.

Dean Felix silently pushed a tablet playing a video towards him." Do you know who that is?"

"One of the subjects we sent for the STP, Quinn Regis." Carl pushed up his glasses as he looked at the video that was of a very dark skinned boy fighting, no, more like beating another boy.

"Precisely, now could you be so kind as to tell me the ability your subject displayed." Dean Felix ground his teeth.

"It seems to be Shadow Manipulation-"

"Shadow Manipulation!" The Dean thundered as he sat up. "Are you guys nuts? Did you stop for a moment to think of the implications of your actions? Did you even think of informing me of his exact superpower before sending him here?"

As he stood before the Dean, Carl felt that he was standing on the edge of a volcano, and a small misstep could see him toppling over. Despite his control over his emotions, Carl couldn't help but feel a trickle of apprehension. He couldn't help but lower his voice to appear more respectable.

He swallowed, "I'm truly sorry for the misinformation, but my boss said you will understand after I give you this." He took out an envelope from his inner suit pocket, and with both hands, handed it to the Dean.

Glaring at him, the Dean directly tore the envelop open and brought out the contents in front of Carl. There was a piece of paper and an old coin. The Dean gave a small sigh as he fingered the coin. He picked up the piece of paper and scanned it through. His furious expression completely disappeared in the middle of the action, as different emotions replaced it; there was pity, empathy and helplessness.

He raised his head up to Carl and said, "Tell him its nil-nil now. You may leave."

Carl stood up, bowed and silently made his way out the room. Alone in the room, Dean Felix smile wryly, "This bastard, always leaving me to clean up his mess. Sigh, may the odds favor you this time old friend."