There was nothing Micah hated more than awkward silence. It hung over a room, oppressive and heavy. It was almost painful to him. He wanted nothing more to fill it.

He sat on a crate, sipping from his Caprisun, listening to the others chew. Chewing was such a disgusting noise. He hated it. He especially hated when someone chewed with their mouth open. As someone was right at this moment. He didn't know who. If he did, he would've chucked his now-empty Lunchable box right at their head.

Around noon, they'd all emerged from their little hidey-holes. Micah, Rose, Colton, Max, Alastor, and Lian. All of them. They were hungry. They pulled some food from the foam coolers they'd been storing it all in, then began to eat. In perfect silence. It was driving Micah mad. The best part of lunch, or any meal, for that matter, wasn't the food. Food was good, yes. Excellent. He loved food. But it still wasn't the best part. Conversing with one another was the best part.

He didn't necessarily like these people. But that didn't mean he didn't want to talk. He loved talking.

"So—" He began, lowering his Caprisun.

"No." Came Alastor's instantaneous, curt reply. "Shut up."

Micah raised an eyebrow, then began to sip from his Caprisun again. His empty Caprisun. A loud slurping sound filled the air, assaulting the ears of his poor companions. Lian cringed and Alastor tensed. Rose just turned towards Micah, likely casting him a glare.

"Stop it," Alastor growled.

Micah just continued to slurp away.

"Oh my God." Alastor stood. "Stop."

Micah ignored him.

Alastor marched over and snatched the pouch from him. "Shut. Up."

"I'm not talking." Micah looked up at the tall boy with an innocent smile.

"You're so immature." Lian sighed from where he sat.

"No, just annoying." Micah winked over at him.

"Well, stop." Alastor jabbed a finger at Micah, drawing his attention back to him.

"No," Micah smirked a little. "I don't think I will."

Micah thought he could hear Alastor's teeth grinding. "How old are you? Four? You act like a child."

"I'm seventeen, actually," Micah replied evenly. "And I don't see anything particularly wrong with acting like a child."

"We're here to be villains." Rose snapped, butting in. "You don't act very villainy—"

"Villainous?" Micah put in.

"Whatever!" Rose huffed. "You don't act very villainous. You're just an ass."

"I'm not just an ass." Micah grinned. "I've got very fine features other than my ass. I mean, I've got pretty nice hair. A beautiful face. A great jawline, really, if I do say so myself. A stunning smile. Pretty eyes, if you ignore the acid burns. And a—"

"Stop." Alastor's energy roiled with barely restrained anger. "Just... stop."

"Sorry." Micah snickered. "Am I making you feel... inadequate?"

"No." Alastor bit out the word.

"Are you sure?" Micah raised an eyebrow.

"You could hardly know what my insecurities are, Pierce."

Micah laughed. "Pierce? Seriously? Are you a coach, Allie? The school principal? Our new teacher?"

"No," Alastor growled. "But I'm very tempted to teach you a lesson."

"Ooh. Kinky."

Alastor's fists balled at his sides. "You wanna go, Pierce? I'll take you out!"

"Aw, Allie." Micah cooed. "I'd love to go on a date with you!"

"I'm not asking you out on a date, I'm challenging you to a fight, you idiot!" Alastor's energy burned hot with anger. "And stop calling me Allie! My name is Alastor! I'm not a damn girl!"

"Something wrong with being a girl?" Rose butted in, scrambling to her feet and marching over. She always seemed ready for a fight.

Alastor spun around. "Stay out of this."

"No, no." Micah piped up. "I want to hear your answer, Allie. Is there something wrong with being a girl?"

"Of course there is!" Alastor exclaimed. "Girls are weak! Fragile! Half as smart as men on a good day. All they're good for is—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Rose kicked her leg up high and hard. Right between his legs. Alastor's energy signature lit up with sharp pain. Micah cringed in sympathy, but couldn't suppress the grin on his face. Alastor had thoroughly deserved that. Micah had known the young man wasn't quite friend-material, but he hadn't predicted he'd be sexist. Micah didn't stand for that sort of thing.

"How's that for weak and fragile?" Rose spat.

Alastor staggered to the side, grabbing a box to support himself. "Stupid bitch." He gasped, sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

"Go to hell." Rose snarled, moving as if she were going to attack him again.

Micah just watched, well aware that Alastor deserved any beating he was about to receive, but just before Rose reached her opponent, Colton hurried to intercept. He grabbed onto her shoulder, holding her back.

"Let me go." Rose hissed. "This asshole needs to learn a lesson in respect."

Colton shook his head.

"No, I agree with her." Micah drawled. "Alastor was out of line. I vote they fight it out."

Micah heard a heavy sigh, then Lian spoke up. "God, really? Fighting it out? Why not just apologize?"

"I am not apologizing." Alastor's furious voice sounded.

"You should," Micah said. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, right? Well, Rose, here, seems pretty scorned."

"Hell yeah, I'm scorned," Rose growled.

"I don't care." Alastor forced himself to straighten, one hand braced on a nearby crate.

Before Micah could speak, Lian pushed himself to his feet, a slow, smooth movement. "You should. You should care, Alastor."

"Why?" Alastor challenged. "Why should I?"

"'Cause she's gonna kick your ass if you don't," Micah called out.

Lian shook his head. "Micah, stop. You're just making things worse."

"Well, making things worse just happens to be my specialty. So thank you."

"It was far from a compliment." Lian sighed.

"Oh, I know."

"Why can't you take anything seriously?" Alastor snapped, turning from Rose. "You're a fool, Micah, in every sense of the word."

"I can take plenty of things seriously. I just choose not to." Micah evenly replied.

"Prove it, then," Lian said cooly. "Stop acting this way for just five minutes and let us work all this out."

Micah shrugged. "Alright. You've got four minutes and fifty-nine seconds now, my guy."

"Yeah, and good luck working this out in five minutes." Rose angrily said. "Nothing you will say will keep me from kicking this lanky bastard's teeth out and giving him a bloody nose to match yours and Micah's."

Micah winced a bit. His nose still hurt. It hadn't really ever stopped throbbing after that fight, and he knew from experience that it wouldn't for a while. He'd been lucky. If his nose had been broken, it had been a small enough fracture that he couldn't tell just by feeling the shape of his nose with his fingers. But Lian had it worse. His nose had been knocked crooked, thanks to Micah's blow, and he'd had to straighten it out and bandage it up.

"Don't be so sure," Lian warned her.

"You think you can change my mind?" Rose folded her arms. "Go ahead and try."

"It's not just your mind," Lian said, turning in place to look at each one of them. "Everyone here needs to listen to me for a second."

"Why?" Rose demanded.

"Because," Lian said, spreading his hands. "Like it or not, we're all in this together. We may not like each other, but that doesn't matter. We're all here. And as far as I can tell, we're all here to stay. So we've got to work together. To be a team."

"A team?" Alastor scoffed. "Really?"

"Yes," Lian said softly. "Really. We don't have to like each other. We don't even really have to get along. We just have to tolerate each other, at the very least. We won't learn anything from this school if we're too busy fighting each other."

"We're not going to learn anything here anyways." Micah drawled. "Scythe's an idiot. I can already tell you that."

He felt the gazes of the group turn on him.

"He is not!" Rose exclaimed. "Take that back! Scythe is an excellent teacher! I would know! I've been with him longer!"

"He's horrible," Micah said. "The only thing he's got going for him is that he hasn't actively tried to kill me yet."

"And why would he?" Lian smoothly said. "He brought you here. He brought all of us here. He wouldn't kill his students."

"You say that as if he didn't give you all permission to kill me during our little game."

"No one was going to kill you, Micah." Lian shook his head.

"Really? How was I supposed to know." Micah raised an eyebrow. "Matter of fact, how would he know? We had all only just met."

"Scythe knew we wouldn't kill you." Came Lian's simple, repetitive reply.

"How?"

"He just did."

"That's not a good enough excuse." Micah frowned. "Especially considering he told me directly to kill all of you."

"I still don't believe that." Lian's voice was doubting. "You have no proof."

"No proof? It was right in front of you Alastor! How could none of you have seen him?!"

Alastor let out a huff. Micah knew the tall boy knew Micah was telling the truth. But Micah also knew Alastor wasn't about to come to Micah's defense. Even if Micah had spared his life.

"Well..." Rose hesitated.

"What?" Micah turned on her.

She bristled a little at his tone. "Never mind, asshole. I was going to help you, but never mind."

"Rose," Lian asked, a bit more patiently. "What were you going to say to him?"

"Doesn't matter." Rose sniffed indignantly. "Perfect Mister Micah Pierce doesn't want to hear it, obviously."

Micah let out a long, long sigh. These people were going to be the death of him someday. He loved drama, but not as much when it directly involved him like this. He liked watching disasters unfold from a safe distance, not from smack dab in the middle of them. He was quickly getting tired of these kids and their attitudes.

"Please, Rose?" Lian softly said. "Just tell me."

Rose was silent for a moment. Then she spoke. "Scythe's idio is invisibility. Just like mine."

Micah laughed out loud. "Oh my God, really? That explains so much!"

Here he'd thought Scythe was just some drama queen who walked out in the middle of a fight to whisper in Micah's ear. But no. The man just hadn't realized that Micah could see him with his sixth sense. He'd probably thought that he'd spooked poor, blind Micah Pierce.

Rose faced him, very likely glaring, judging by the flare of anger that flickered through her. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because it's funny." Micah chuckled. "Poor Scythe must've thought he was being so cool, sneaking up on me. The jokes on him. I could see him all along. What an idiot."

"Stop that." Rose snapped. "He's not an idiot!"

"What is he, then?" Micah tried and failed to keep the taunting tone from his voice.

"Our teacher," Lian interjected. "Whether you like it or not, Micah."

"Is he really our teacher?" Micah challenged. "All he's done so far is gather us all here, then force us to play a twisted version of Sardines."

"You ran him off before he could do anything else," Rose growled.

"Yes, well, I have things to say about that too."

"Like what?" The winged girl tightly folded her arms.

"Well, he's not much of a villain if he was chased off by a bit of sass from a blind teenager, that's what," Micah replied flatly.

"He wasn't scared of you! Just annoyed!"

"He should be scared of me." Micah retorted.

"Why? In your own words, you're just a blind teenager." Lian pointed out.

Micah folded his arms. "Well, unless he's got some tricks up his sleeves, he wouldn't stand a chance in a fight against me."

"You don't know that," Rose argued.

"Trust me, I do," Micah replied. "I've got enough experience to make that sort of claim."

"What do you mean?" Lian asked.

"None of your business, that's what I mean," Micah muttered.

Lian let out a sigh. "Okay, enough. I want you to stop with this superiority you've got." Micah opened his mouth to interrupt, but Lian cut him off. "Maybe you are superior, in some regards. But look where you are. In the same boat as the rest of us."

Micah bristled, his jaw clenching as he fought the urge to respond. Lian was right. Micah just didn't want to admit it. Micah was in a desperate situation. He was a runaway. The former servant of a villain looking for a place in the world. The adoptive sibling of a young, overprotective hero who was currently hunting him down. He was stuck here. Either he swallowed his pride here and accepted Lian's words, or he swallowed his pride elsewhere and went home with Addie.

"Fine." Micah bit out. "But I don't see why you all get to know about me when I know nothing about you all."

Lian gave a slight nod, then moved back over to where he'd been sitting earlier. "That's a fair point." He said, sitting primly on the edge of the crate, hands folded in his lap. "I think we should all share a little about ourselves."

Alastor laughed. "What? That's ridiculous."

"We'll never be able to come together as a team if we don't open up a little," Lian said calmly. "You don't have to say much. How about we stick with the basics? A first-day-at-school-type game? Like Scythe did earlier, but done right. Our name, how old we are, where we're from. Maybe what our idio is and a little bit about ourselves, too."

There was a beat of silence. Then Max, who'd remained perfectly silent throughout the argument, spoke up.

"I like that idea." He said. "We can work together better if we know each other better."

"You start first, then," Alastor growled at him.

Max cowed a little at the angry boy's words, then nodded. "Okay. Um. My name is Maximum Power. People call me Max. I'm fifteen. I used to live in the Midwest with my Grandma Power. She used to be a big-time villain back in her day. It's a family tradition for us Powers to be villains. So when Scythe showed up to take me here, I was happy to join his villain school."

"And what's your idio?" Micah asked.

"Oh. I don't actually have one." Max said. "All I have are my robot parts."

"How'd you get those?" Came Micah's next question.

"I had an... accident." Max shifted uncomfortably. "A hero attacked my parents and me." There was a deep sadness as well as anger in his voice. Micah frowned, putting two and two together. The boy lived with his grandmother. Which meant his parents had very likely died in that attack.

"I'll go next." Lian stepped in, as if he sensed the same sadness that Micah did and wanted to avoid flaming any emotion. "As you all know, my name is Lian Huì Sè. I'm sixteen years old. I spent some of my childhood with my mother in China. She was a hero by the name of Yin-Yang, and she wanted me and my twin sister to follow in her footsteps as a hero. My sister and I each inherited half of our mother's idio. Jian inherited the Yang part of the idio. The healing half. I inherited the Yin. The half that allows me to reverse the healing of wounds. Needless to say, while my sister took to the hero life quite well, I did not. I was sent to the States to live with my father, a failure to my mother, where I inevitably ran into Scythe."

Lian finished, waiting in silence as the remaining members of the group delayed going next. Micah resisted the urge to touch his chest. To touch his face. Or any of his scars, really. Reverse the healing of wounds. Lian's was a brutal idio. To most, it wouldn't do too much damage. But to heroes and villains, sporting scars and healed broken bones and old bruises galore, it would be devastating.

"Alastor. How about you go next?" Lian quietly asked.

Alastor shook his head. "I'm not saying a word until Micah does. Last time we did this, he thought he was too good for us and didn't participate the way the rest of us did."

Lian turned to Micah, but Micah shook his head. "No, man, I'm not going next."

"Oh my God." Rose drawled. "Fine. I'll do it. I'm Rose Faux. This is my brother Colton O'Hare. We already said that days ago, but whatever. We're both sixteen and from this stupid city. My idio is that I've got these wings, obviously. But I can make them and anything I cover with them invisible. So I can wrap myself in them and sneak around."

Interesting. Micah noted. He wondered if her wings covered her feet, too, or just the top half of her.

"Colton can turn his hands into weapons. Things like knives or clubs, mostly. We're both former foster kids. Scythe pulled us from the system and gave us a place to call home."

Micah blinked. That explained why she defended him so staunchly. He was probably some sort of father figure to her. He'd warn her away from picking a villain like Scythe as an idol or mentor, but he wasn't in any place to do so.

"Now, Mikey, it's your turn." Rose's voice held a hint of sass in it.

Micah suppressed a flinch at the nickname. Only Addie and Matthew had ever been allowed to call him that. But he knew if he protested its use, she'd just use it more to torment him.

"Fine," Micah muttered. "If I have to."

"You do." Lian and Rose said at the same time.

Micah rolled his eyes. "Fine. For real this time. My name is Micah Pierce. I'm seventeen. I've lived in Amberchase my whole life. My idio's a bit complicated, so—"

"No, don't you try to gloss over that," Alastor growled. "If we're all doing it, you have to too."

Micah bit back his frustration. "Fine. I'm an Advanced Energy Manipulator, kind of. I can absorb energy into my body. I can then release it and shape it, but it always solidifies into crystal. I can release the energy stored in the crystal by cracking it little by little or by shattering it all in one go. Once the energy is released, though, I can't reabsorb it. I can only reabsorb what's left of the crystal."

"You're an AEM?" Alastor exclaimed. "Well, that makes sense! No wonder you can still navigate around without sight! You must have that sixth sense I've heard of!"

"Sixth sense?" Max piped up. "What's that?"

"Tell them, Micah." Alastor smugly said, clearly thriving off of the fact that he'd figured out one of Micah's little secrets and exposed it to the others.

"I can sense energy," Micah explained. "Mechanical energy, both kinetic and potential. Also thermal, nuclear, chemical, and electrical. Electromagnetic, too, but that one takes a lot more concentration than the others."

Lian spoke up. "So that's how you get around? How do you tell us all apart?"

Micah nodded. "Every person has an energy signature just as unique as their physical appearance. Like a fingerprint, if that fingerprint changed with emotions and physical activity."

"So how well can you see us?" Rose's voice was suspicious, almost. "And can you see through walls?"

"I can see each of your shapes, vaguely," Micah said. "Your rough height and build. Things like hair are only really obvious when it's longer than a few inches. Like yours, Lian. Or Rose's."

"And the walls?" Rose urgently pressed.

"Yes, I can see through walls." Micah snorted. "Not many walls, though. And the more there are, the harder it gets to make out details. Don't worry, Rose, I'm not a Peeping Tom." Not that it mattered. He couldn't really detect things like clothes anyways, not unless he was this close. It all blended together.

"So, that's your idio." Lian mused. "But what else? How'd you get here?"

Micah instantly realized that this had been what Lian had intended all along. To figure out why Micah acted the way he did. Lian was trying to gain a sneak-peak into the mess that was the mind of Micah Pierce.

"Well, it's like I told Scythe." Micah kept his voice casual. "I am a mercenary. Or at least, I was. Of sorts. I was raised by mercenaries, an orphan trained from my earliest memories to serve villains. Or, well, one in particular." He shrugged, trying to ward off the memories that rose at his words. "I was good at it all. But it didn't work out. I ran off with my older sister. She became a hero, but that wasn't for me. So here I am."

There was a beat of silence as everyone processed his words. Micah just knew that Lian and Alastor had each filed away his story for future reference.

"You worked for a villain as a kid?" Rose's voice was careful for once. "What did you do for him?"

"All sorts of things," Micah answered vaguely.

"Like what?"

"Use your imagination."

"Wait." Max's voice sounded now. "Your sister is a hero?" He spat out the word. "Just like Lian's mom? You guys have heroes in your family?"

"Well... yeah." Micah shrugged. "Not much I can do about it."

"We don't choose our family," Lian said softly, clearly trying to placate the boy.

Micah winced a little. That may be true for Lian, but it wasn't for Micah. All of his family had been chosen. He wasn't related to either Matthew or Adelaide. They'd all been orphans, all taken from wherever they'd been before to live together. They'd chosen to make a family out of the situation. They'd chosen to call each other brother and sister. To make the best out of it all.

"Are you going to tell on us?" Max demanded to know. "Are you two like your family?"

Micah laughed. "Tell on you? This isn't preschool, Max. And, morally, at least, I'm nothing like my sister."

"I'm certainly nothing like my mother," Lian answered as well, his voice unusually guarded. "She and my sister made that little fact quite clear to me."

Max folded his arms. "I'll be keeping an eye on you two." He declared. "Just in case."

"You do that, Max." Micah snorted. "Anyways. Allie, my dear boy. I do believe it is your turn."

Alastor huffed. "Stop calling me Allie, Pierce."

"No."

"Why, you—"

"Alastor." Lian quietly interrupted. "Ignore him. Just... go."

Alastor bit back his next words. "Fine. I'm Alastor. I'm eighteen, and I'm not really from anywhere. I've bounced around the foster system all my life. Thanks to my idio, the ability to drain energy from people. I feed off of it. That scared people. They all thought me a monster. So I never stayed anywhere very long."

Micah tensed a little. No wonder Alastor's touch had been so miserable. It would be uncomfortable for most. But for an AEM like himself, Alastor's idio was particularly torturous. Micah needed that energy to live. It was a part of him.

"Well, that's... enlightening." Lian said. "Thank you."

Alastor muttered something, something that Micah couldn't quite make out.

"What now?" Micah raised an eyebrow at Lian. "Now that we've all participated in your little game, what now?"

Lian hesitated. "I'm not sure."

"I mean, if we're stealing ideas from Scythe's garbage teacher handbook, the next step would be to fight." Micah snorted.

"That sounds great." Rose declared, staring pointedly at both Alastor and Micah, her head swiveling.

"I was being sarcastic," Micah muttered.

"Well..." Lian slowly said. "It might actually be a good idea. Nothing too bad, of course. Just... sparring. To see where everyone's at. To measure our strengths and weaknesses."

"Really?" Micah raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I'm up for a bit of training, but... we're all still pretty beat up from last time. I've still got bruises head to toe, and I know you all aren't exactly fresh. Our noses are still broken, and the cuts on Alastor's hand still bother him."

"How do you—" Alastor began before cutting himself off, remembering Micah's sixth sense.

Micah ignored Alastor and continued on. "Your head still probably doesn't feel great, Lian. You had a little concussion, remember? The best of all of us, in regards to health, at least, are Rose and Colton. Max's robot leg is still damaged from the fight."

Max wilted a little at the reminder.

"Then those of us who can spar, will spar," Lian said. "The rest of us will just watch or something."

This was a mess. "Fine." Micah shook his head, pushing to his feet. "But let's go outside. No need to stink up the warehouse any more than it already is."

"After you." Lian nodded and rose as the others stood as well.

Micah just turned and headed for the door, slowly and carefully as he weaved through the debris, not wanting to trip.

This was not going to go well.

Not at all.