Nate guides Victor around a corner. "Have you managed to use your variation yet?" "No, I'm not very good," Victor replies. "That's fine," Nate says, smiling.
"I wasn't either at first. You'll get there once you've had a bit of training." The deeper into the building they go, the more people they see. Victor looks at them with interest. They're all wearing similar uniforms to Nate, but with different patterns. "From you?" Victor asks.
"Yep! My mentor said I was ready to be a mentor to someone else," Nate says as they pass an open door to a training room of some sort. Victor looks in just as someone throws a punch; their opponent sharply brings up their arm, encased in ice. The fist connects with the ice with a loud CRACK.
Victor looks worriedly up at Nate as he continues talking. "You're the first kid I'll have trained. If this goes well, I might be promoted to an actual team member, so try to help me out, yeah?"
Victor glances away, looking upset.
Nate finally notices something is up. "You alright?"
"My arms hurt," Victor says. Nate puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Let me have a look," he says. "They always strap these things on too tight."
He loosens the devices on Victor's outstretched arms. "There. How's that?" "I don't like it. I wanna take them off," Victor says.
Nate puts his hands on his hips and puffs his chest out pompously. "Sorry, little man. You've gotta keep 'em on. Just like me. They're inhibitors. Keeps you from sparking out on us. These things are state-of-the-art." Victor scowls.
"They're too heavy!" Victor complains, throwing his hands in the air. "You'll get used to it," Nate replies.
End of page.