He walked out of the isolated corridor, through the labyrinth that was the Atlas Academy's hallways. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting harsh shadows between the concrete walls. The only paths he had memorized were the dorms, Training Bay Alpha, the exterior training centre and the cafeteria.
He was planning on heading back to Bay Alpha. Since he had no serious wounds from the Glass rain, except for a few nicks on his palms and face due to his slime protection, which he would just bandage up when he got to his dorm that night, there was no need to head to the Medic centre like the other students. Not that he knew where it was anyway.
He headed towards Bay Alpha. He would just use the excuse that he wanted to get some extra reps in before the other students came back from their treatment two hours later. Besides, he really needed it. He might not be competing with Alex, but he still needed to be as strong as possible if he wanted to hunt down the villain that killed his family.
As he walked forward, he heard sounds across the walkways. That was unusual. Apart from the other eleven people and Reeves, he genuinely had not seen anybody else on this floor, and even the other floors. He just assumed every other student had been deployed to the warzones already. The empty corridors stretched endlessly, broken only by the occasional classroom door or bulletin board covered in tactical diagrams.
Were the other trainees coming back? Done with healing already?
As he came around the bend, he saw the source of the conversations. Two students, obvious by the same black and green long-sleeved shirts and pants he wore.
The first guy was tall and broad-shouldered, with straight black hair that was cut short at the neck. He had a well-sculpted face, and even though everyone wore the same clothes so he couldn't judge people based on how expensive or cheap their clothing looked, the guy in front of him carried himself with a sort of air that he couldn't help but speculate that he came from some rich family. If he just wore a cape, he would already be a spitting image of what the noble heroes looked like. Before the wars.
And the guy next to him was someone Mateo was already familiar with.
"Brett." He snarled.
"What's up, FootMat?" Brett asked snarkily, his uniform accentuating the muscles of his bulky frame. The two guys were quite taller than Mateo, so he couldn't say he didn't feel intimidated.
Great. Just what I needed.
But even more than that, he felt incredibly shocked.
"You know him, Brett?" The other guy asked, his voice calm, like a cloud in the sky.
"We've met before." Mateo said, folding his arms. "AA must be really desperate if they're recruiting common alley thugs now."
"I could say the same thing about you too, Slime Boy." Brett sneered, but something told Mateo it wasn't mere contempt underneath his barb. It didn't even really feel like an insult from him anymore. The way he said it, Mateo could feel something like grudging respect underneath the surface.
"Well, any friend of the Iron Knight is a friend of mine." The other guy stretched his hand to Mateo. "I'm called Stratos by the way. You're kind of known as 'The Slime Boy' in the other classes. I'd like to know your actual name."
Mateo took the handshake. Even the way Stratos behaved sounded like he was royalty. "I'm Mateo."
How could a ruffian like Brett be friends with calm and composed Stratos?
Stratos nodded his head thoughtfully and asked. "I haven't seen any of the other students from other classes before, mostly because of our tight schedules. What class are you from? And why aren't you in the training sessions?"
"We just went through a really tough session with glass and lots of injuries." Mateo explained, at ease with Stratos' calm vibe. "The others were told to get treatment, but I didn't get any, so I'll just head back to the training gym. I'm in Class B. You?"
Stratos nodded again like that explained everything. "I see. You're in Amara's class. Reeves must be your Commander. Ours is Oblitus. As for why we're out instead of in our training sessions..."
Stratos paused, giving Brett a firm pat on the back as he shot him a look. "The Iron Knight here just won us a bonus! You should have seen him in our defensive challenge! He made our team last a whole five minutes ahead of the other teams!"
"It was nothing, Strat." Brett said, a strange blush slightly flushing his face, which looked very off-putting to Mateo.
The first time they really met, which was surprisingly just two days ago, they had gotten into a fight, which Brett wholly initiated, and Mateo barely escaped before Brett cleaved his life in two.
And now? Now he was apparently already doing well with everyone else?
This doesn't make sense. Mateo's jaw tightened. Brett still looked and felt like the same old Brett to him. His brash attitude, his unruly personality and haircut. When they last saw each other before the entrance battles, Mateo had hoped he would just fail the exam. Maybe he would be scrapped off the hero list and join the mercenary team at bare minimum.
Now he was supposed to be a good, upstanding guy that was helping out his classmates?
Mateo did notice some difference in Brett though, even if microscopic. He seemed a tad bit calmer, less reactive and aggressive, especially to Stratos. Mateo still could only see him as a bone-headed thug.
So what could possibly have happened to him that changed him so much?
Mateo obviously didn't bring that subject up, especially in front of Stratos. Instead, he chose to direct the conversation to something he didn't understand.
"What do you mean, bonus?" Mateo asked as he tilted his head.
"Reeves hasn't started doing them with you yet?" Stratos asked, scratching the full stub on his chin. "They're just incentives the Commanders use to make us work even harder in the tiered challenges. Brett won us a bonus, the rest of the day off."
So that was why they were walking through the hallways. The other members of their team must have gone their own ways. And the things Mateo was thinking were weird were becoming more evident. The reason he didn't see any other people during the breaks or in moments like these was because the other classes were deep in their own hours-long training sessions, which made the whole place seem desolate.
"So what are you guys going to do with your bonuses?" Mateo asked.
"We're going to hit the gym." Brett said, as if it was the most obvious thing to do when given time-off. "We're heading to our own training bay."
"Speaking of which, I think it's time we get going." Stratos said, a thin grin forming on his lips as he clapped his hands. "It's been nice talking to you, Mateo. Can I have your number?"
Mateo stared at him blankly. "I don't have a number."
The subtle social nuances were also starting to make a little more sense, like how Stratos seemingly knew Amara, even though they would not have had any time to interact due to the heavy training sessions, and the fact that they were in different classes. They must have some sort of group chat where all of them kept in touch.
"Ahh." Stratos said thoughtfully, as if just realizing the differences in their backgrounds. "Well, we won't have much time to interact due to the heavy training, but I do hope to have another talk with you, Mateo."
"Same." Mateo offered half-heartedly as the two guys walked past him and he kept pace forward.
Just when he thought they were completely gone, he heard the stop in footsteps and a voice telling Stratos to 'Give him a minute.'
In a few seconds, Brett appeared in front of him, a light in his eyes that faintly resembled Alex's, giving him unsavory flashbacks to their confrontation minutes ago.
Did Brett want another fight?
Mateo instantly guarded himself, getting into fighting position while Brett simply stared at him.
"Relax man, I'm not here to fight you."
"Oh." He said, feeling dumb as he returned back to his normal position. "Then, why did you come back? Alone?"
He didn't answer. He just had a faraway look on his face. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant hum of ventilation systems echoing through the empty halls.
After a beat of silence, he replied, but not to his question.
"You beat me that last time." He said, staring at Mateo with something that looked like... respect.
'Beating' is far too much of an exaggeration. Mateo thought. He had used his raw combat ability against Brett's metal manipulation, and when all else failed, he had to rely on his quirk and that was the only way he 'won'.
He remembered the slime gushing out uncontrollably from his arm, how he almost killed Brett, if he didn't restrain himself at the last second.
"You were probably holding back this whole time, weren't you?" He asked, sounding vaguely a lot like Alex, but he had a more distant look in his eyes.
"I-" Mateo started before Brett held a hand up.
"It's okay." Brett said. "You don't have to explain yourself."
He sounded truly calmer now, like the insults he hurled earlier were just a reflex. He continued. "I just wanted to say something to you before I left."
"What's that?" Mateo asked, totally lost and confused by Brett's seemingly new personality.
"You're a pretty strong guy, Mateo." Brett finally said, a mysterious look in his eyes. "I don't know what you keep fighting for, but I hope you get it. Good luck with that."
And without waiting for an answer, which Mateo had none to give either way, Brett walked away, the sound of his boots echoing until they were out of earshot.
"Why is everyone so weird today?" Mateo complained inwardly, and went to Training Bay Alpha.
An hour and a pool of sweat later, the other students returned. Mostly healed, only a few bearing bandages where deeper cuts had been completely mended.
Reeves had mentioned earlier that they would "review the tactics used in your rescue operations and how they can be used more efficiently." As the others including Mateo lined up with military precision, Reeves walked into the wide room with her usual stern expression.
"Now that you've all been healed," Reeves said, examining the students with calculating eyes, "we can continue. No time to waste."
"Let's start with the B-3 team—the best performers."
Ben, Seraphine, Marina and Amara stood straighter as their team was mentioned.
"You showed quick thinking utilizing your powers to save a majority of the mannequins," she praised. "Turning water columns into ice to catch the mannequins, using jets to slow the glass dummies so Ben could catch them unharmed—smart coordination."
Their faces shifted from apprehensive to beaming. They had genuinely worked as a unit.
"Which is why I'm offering your team a bonus." Reeves smiled slightly. Mateo recalled his conversation with Stratos about bonuses. "As reward for earning first position, you have time-off from evening training to do whatever you want."
Then she lowered her voice, focusing on them alone. "Though I'd strongly advise sticking to training anyway. We don't have much time before deployment."
The four gulped and nodded while Reeves addressed the rest.
"This is an incentive to push harder in the coming days." Her 'incentive' felt conflicting if she'd pressure them to train regardless. "As for other performances—B-1 team fared worst, saving only five mannequins because you think being a hero only means fighting."
"B-2 team," she continued, eyes finding Mateo's group, "intermediate performance. You did well enough, but lacked proper teamwork."
Mateo recalled Alex recklessly pulling mannequins toward herself, breaking them and getting injured. He restrained himself from face-palming.
"But you also showed adaptability when the original plan failed." Her gaze lingered on Mateo longer than the others. "Good start, but we need to focus on improving coordination."
Mateo nodded while Alex scoffed under her breath, Henrik shuffling nervously, Akira standing silent.
"Now then," Reeves clapped briskly, "as you know, in five days we leave for the warzones to assist pro-heroes. But first, we're having another challenge—a show of strength between students."
"One-on-one combat duels. I won't tell you opponents, but prepare and train to your maximum. Develop all facets of your quirks. You won't be disqualified for losing."
"Like they'd actually disqualify anyone," Henrik muttered. "Can they afford to when they're running low on soldiers?"
Mateo heard but had no response.
"Now that you're all here," she concluded, "time for physical training."
The five days blurred together.
He barely had time to breathe. Every hour meant grueling training, and when he wasn't pushing his body and quirk to absolute limits, he was bathing, eating, rushing to the next session, or struggling to catch lost sleep. They managed one bonus, and against better judgment, he used it for sleep.
Mateo had imagined AA as the year his life would change. Maybe he'd break out of his shell, make friends, even find a girlfriend. He'd never attended actual school due to the crisis, so his expectations were skewed by stories and TV shows.
Besides, Mateo had never had real friends before.
Not that his week at Atlas was completely bleak.
With limited time, all social interactions came from training. He'd grown closer to guys like Anon, Ben and Switch, though Inferno remained an impenetrable wall Mateo wasn't interested in anyway.
He wasn't exactly friends with the girls yet—Amara usually teased him, while Seraphine, Marina and Maya maintained friendly but indifferent terms.
The real relationships developed within B-2 team.
Alex Velez, Henrik Mercer, Akira Nagasaki and Mateo Mendoza.
To say their relationship was rocky would be an understatement.
Initially, Alex's behavior created constant tension. She'd argue and question Mateo's solutions while her brash actions lost them points. Akira always tried mediating before things got heated, while Henrik—the short, wire-framed boy—mostly observed during conflicts.
Gradually though, Alex became more receptive. Not chatty, but she followed Mateo's plans more often. She was their brawn, Akira their social glue, and while Henrik remained quiet, Mateo had grown closer to his fellow teammate.
They were both from the outskirts, grew up poor, lost most family in the past. They resonated.
Between Alex's powerhouse quirk, Akira's pet transformation ability, Henrik's object-merging power that let him carry weapons inside his body, and Mateo's increasingly adaptable slime quirk, Team B-2 quickly became Class B's strongest.
Now, the final day arrived. The 'duel' Reeves mentioned was starting.
As they stood in the tense waiting room, the first names were called.
"Mateo vs Zeke. You're up first."
Mateo's heart sank.
Inferno. Of course his rotten luck pitched him against the strongest fighter—son of a top-three pro hero.
The tall, muscular redhead offered no comment as he walked toward the arena, apparently set in one of the fake-model cities designed to simulate residential warzone realism.
They climbed a crumbling apartment building until reaching the rooftop where their fight would begin.
No pleasantries between them. No gracious "may the best man win."
Mateo and Inferno III weren't the type for false courtesy.
The city sprawled below them—broken windows catching dying sunlight, empty streets littered with training debris. The wind carried the metallic scent of the academy's recycled air mixed with concrete dust.
Mateo flexed his fingers, feeling slime respond beneath his skin.
"Begin Combat Sequence now." Commander Reeves' gruff voice echoed through hidden intercoms.