A trail of murmurs spread across the room. 

“Chancellor? Not director or something?” Cassian mumbled. 

“She’s working within the government, so maybe that’s why she has that title. I dunno; it doesn't matter. We've got bigger fish to fry right now,” Melissa whispered back.

“Shit, I wanna go home,” Cillian murmured on my far left. 

Cassian must have heard, because he mouthed, “Me too.”

Me three, Cassian. Me three.

Glaring intensely, the gray-haired, sleep-deprived guy next to me crossed his arms. 

"Chancellor, employee, janitor — I don't care; it's all the sane to me," he said. "I'll still kill her for doing this.”

Remaining in firm composure, Janson walked past the onslaught of comments and cleared her throat. "As you all know, there is an increasing rise in superhuman crime. The streets are gradually getting more and more dangerous to be on, and the public is panicking. You may have also heard of how the 'rebellion' is going to try and use you all. Plus… we have some business concerning abilities. Therefore, we are slowly gathering every superhuman to live here for life."

For life. 

The word echoed in my head, in the room, in the air. Like a horrible death sentence.

You could practically smell the putrid stares aimed at Janson. Not just from the guy next to me, but from everyone else, too.

"If that bothers you so much, then think of it like this: we're keeping you here for your own good," Janson said, her voice freezing into an even colder tone. "If you were out there in the real world, there's a higher risk of being murdered, or getting find yourself caught up in the brawls on the streets. At least here, you're sheltered, so keep that in mind the next time you're upset." She sighed. "Moving on — any disobedience will not be tolerated. You will be respectful and responsible at all times, and none of you want to face the consequences if you disobey."

Mmm, right. That would happen just because she said so, like she could just manifest it into existence. Like she didn't notice the death glares people were sending her. Like she wasn't aware of all the rebellious activity going on in the world right now.

Mr. Sleep Deprived scoffed, rolling his eyes. "The ten people you dragged here are not just gonna do that. You know that, right?"

"You really need to shut up," the girl next to him whispered in an oddly monotone voice. Now that I realized it, they looked awfully similar — same blackish-gray hair and blue-green eyes. Siblings, I guessed.

The chancellor just droned on. "Your schedule will be given to you when you register" — Janson nodded at the desk behind us — "and the guards will escort you to where you must be. Are there any questions?"

"I have one thing to say," said Mr. Sleep Deprived, flicking a strand of gray hair from his face and inhaling deeply before spitting out a single sentence:

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you guys?"

Janson blinked twice. "There are plenty of things wrong with me, actually, but elaborating any further would probably leave us standing here for hours. Now, are there any genuine questions you have?"

"No, dammit! That is the genuine question!" he roared, advancing on Janson with rage flaring in his bulging eyes.

My stomach dropped. Assaulting a government official with over ten guards around him? He could not have been serious right now.

"Stay where you are." Janson clenched her jaw, tilting her nose up slightly as if she was more so disgusted than afraid. 

"You think I care?" Michael cried, lunging forward with a fist aimed right at the chancellor's face.

Just in time, about five escorts and two guards darted forward, grabbing him by his sides, neck, head, and arms amd yanking him away from Janson. 

None of us could help him, even the ones who stepped forward, tempted to do something about the situation. There were too many guards, and without our powers, how far could we really get?

Melissa was still bouncing on the balls of her feet, though, as if she wanted to take a shot anyway.

Shouting and kicking away guards, Michael bit at two escorts' arms, teeth practically sinking into the fabric of their uniforms and ripping them up. Tiny droplets of blood flew out through the air.

Holy. Shit.

"Lovely. Not even ten minutes into this discussion and we already have to clean the floor," Janson said as if people weren't getting bitten and beat up in front of her eyes right now. 

Michael screeched, his teeth still sunk into the guards' arms. He thrashed wildly until one of them hit him smack in the mouth and grabbed him by the throat. 

His sister leapt forward. "Michael --"

"Stop." Her escort tugged her back by the arm. "Don't. Escalate. The situation. More."

"Guards, take him away," Janson said, flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder as if someone hadn't just tried to smash her face in just now. "Registration for him will be postponed, or perhaps we'll take him to the other place..."

Flailing and thrashing like a wild animal, Michael let out another earsplitting screech. 

"I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE EXCEPT FOR —"

THWACK! 

One guard hit him in the face and dragged him away.

"Evelyn!" he called out, glancing at his sister. "Please, be safe, don't —"

"Be quiet," muttered a guard, clapping a hand over his mouth. They pulled Michael down the hallway on the west side. He let out muffled screams, thrashing until one of his captors hit him in the head three times. Then he went dead silent.

We were all left, frozen, our mouths agape.

My heart sank into a pit of icy dread and guilt and absolute utter horror. 

They… they really just did that?

Janson's words echoed in my head: "You will be respectful and responsible at all times."

We hadn't been here for five minutes, but that rule was already broken. 

As a cold chill washed over me, I slowly turned my head to stare at Evelyn. Her eyes were wide, face painted in an expression of helplessness — jaws sunk, eyes dull yet moist with tears, and brows knit. The look was horribly familiar — it was the same one I had when Dad killed my sister.

I swallowed down the memory of her, forcing away the urge to reminisce. Now was definitely not the time for that.

Janson let out a deep sigh as the chaos settled down and Evelyn and Melissa's personnel slowly let them go.

"Now that Michael has shown his warm welcome, you all may proceed to the registration booth." Her voice was just as flat as before.. "After you get your schedules for, the guards will lead you to the cafeteria. You'll be following them around for most of the day."

"This will be how things work from now on. Welcome to PowerGen."

She spun on her heel, her jacket swishing just above the floor, and walked away.

Registration was simple. Offer your name, date of birth, address, and your superpower. Take a picture of yourself to go on your PowerGen file and ID.

After that, I was simply told my dorm number — 01. Every day after our schedules were complete, we'd return to our rooms to sleep and prepare for the next day. 

I hadn't even started looking through this building, but it already sounded as dull and dreadful as I expected.

Our schedule for today was printed out on a laminated sheet of paper that was smooth and clean, but still made my skin crawl. It read:

Breakfast: 9:30 - 10:30

Experimentation: 10:30 - 12:30

Ability Examination: 12:30 - 15:30

Lunch: 15:30 - 17:00

Ability Examination (Callback): 17:00 - 17:30

Dinner: 17:30 - 18:30

Once registration was complete, the guards led us down the hall to our left. This time, though, they didn't grab us by the wrists or restrain us in any way. They simply stood behind us, leaving us walk in our own little cluster full of uncomfortable and upset people. 

How dandy. 

I stuck closer to Melissa, her cousin, and her partner. Being with them made me just the slightest bit safer.

"What should we do?" Elaine was saying.

"What can we do?" Melissa replied. "Right now, we might just have to go with the flow. I hate this place already; it sucks. They pulled me right out of the hospital and plopped me here, so I really wanna do something. But right now, we can't take action." She glanced, at the guards, who weren't listening. "Yet."

"I wanna go home," Cassian whispered, the same way Cillian had.

"Me too, Cassian," I said. "Me too."

We lapsed into silence after that. The recruits beside me had darkened, dreary looks on their faces, from the smallest scared boy to the tallest young woman in the front, all of them dead silent as they trudged down the hall.

Actually, scratch that. Adalynne was grumbling to herself, her voice getting louder as she spoke, and soon enough, her words rang out clearly through the hall.

"If it wasn't for some bitch's overreaction to a bit of fire and her mass murderer friend, maybe we wouldn't be here."

I looked to see her dark, icy eyes glaring right at me. 

Melissa spoke up first. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

The auburn-haired guy near the wall was second. “Adalynne, you really think that? That's a bit —”

“What?” Adalynne asked me, stepping in front of everyone else. “Why are you staring at me?”

I flinched, slowing my pace. “You... you were staring first —”

“You take back that statement right now.” Melissa stepped between Adalynne and I. “This is, in no way, Talia’s fault. We're all struggling with the same thing right now, so pointing fingers like a whiny-ass toddler isn’t gonna do anything. You're — what, twenty? Act your age, damnit!"

“And who are you?” Adalynne’s eyes narrowed.

“A person who's in the same boat as you. A person who is friends with someone” — she looked at me — “who is also in the same boat as you. Don’t argue, don’t be rude. Not in this kind of situation."

“Excuse me? You’re the one who started the argument and being rude; you’re yelling right at me!” Adalynne shouted.

I gulped. In any other situation, I’d cut in with a retort, but was Adalynne right? She was picking on the one thing I regretted doing. 

“Okay, first off, you started speaking. And second of all, it’s called standing up for someone else,” Melissa snapped. “Because you seem to be uncapable of respecting anyone—”

"Oy, are y’all done arguing?" said a guard from behind us. 

We stopped in our tracks, looking over our shoulders.

"If all ya do is fight in the cafeteria, we're gonna have a problem." He frowned.

The haggard-faced man stepped forward and nodded at the entrance we'd come to: a set of open doors that led to a large room with a bazillion benches, the walls painted blue instead of purple. The ceiling's light shined down on the tag pinned to the guard's shirt, revealing his name: Kody.

"Get your meals first," Kody continued, pointing at the cart in the front of the room that was stacked with food. "Then sit down and don't fight.”

Right, right. As if telling us what to do would make us actually do it.

Melissa was still glaring at Adalynne, pure murderous intent in her eyes.

I knew she was a protective person rather than an offensive, but the thought of her interacting with that girl any further was starting to scare me.

We headed over to the front of the cafeteria, while the rest of our escorts went to the double doors at the very back. They were departing, but Kody was the only one to pause on his way out. 

"Don't even think about fooling around," he said, nodding at the ceiling. Implemented into it was a bunch of glassy black screens with red dots in the center. "Those things'll shoot you in no time flat."

With that, he left.

"Getting taken here against our will, being pushed around, and now we're being treated like schoolchildren," said Adalynne. "Wonderful job, Talia. Remember that part of this is on you."

"Hey!" Melissa barked. "What'd I just say? She didn't do anything! Nothing's on her! What kind of dumb mental gymnastics do you have to do in order to claim that it's her fault?"

But Adalynne remained silent. She shot me a sardonic grin and pat on the shoulder, stalking off to her seat. 

It didn't matter if it should or shouldn't have — the weight of my guilt only grew heavier.