When Arin put on her new Red Electron costume, all the feelings she wanted to feel the first time were felt. 

The new costume was exactly what she needed it to be. It was built from the template of a men’s full-body costume, so it made her shoulders broad and muscular despite the thin, stretchable fabric. 

Boots were built right into the feet, showing off none of her legs, or her ass. Instead of a mask that didn’t even cover her nose, she now had a full face mask that left only her mouth and jaw free, neither which were special enough to give her identity away. Janice even added in a hood to the back as a callback to her sweatshirt. 

With the final touch of the atom logo on the chest, Arin was ready for initiation. 

It was still brighter than a stop light in the middle of a desert on a moonless night, though. 

Janice showed Arin to the elevator which had only one button on the inside, relieving Arin from the stressing of getting even more lost. 

The elevator opened up into a small room with nothing but a set of swinging double doors to take her someplace else. Through the doors was what looked like an average high school gymnasium. There were bleachers on both sides and markings on the floor like a basketball court. It was a bit of a letdown in Arin’s mind. She expected some kind of awesome superhero-training battleground. 

What made it odd, were the people that occupied it (using the word “people” loosely). She walked past a girl who tossed up a blueish-green barrier to stop another girl's black magic ball from hitting her.

Two others were attacking each other in hand-to-hand combat, moving so fast Arin couldn’t even see their limbs. A group of five or six tossed around a fireball like a hacky sack. 

Arin had to be at least half of a decade older than almost all of them, so she sat down on the bottom set of bleachers and waited, talking to no one and doing nothing.

After only a few minutes of Arin’s sulking in the corner, the double doors to the gymnasium burst open.

The room filled with a bang that rang in Arin’s ears long after it faded from the air, like lightning had struck her body. Thunder clapped all around as Dr. Rage entered the room in possibly the most dramatic way one could enter a school gym. 

Arin was past being intimidated by this point, but the others were not so lucky. They all rapidly formed a shoulder-to-shoulder line as if they had been commanded to do so, even though no one had commanded them to do so at all. 

Arin didn’t react fast enough and ended up pretty close to the end of the line of two dozen or so supers. Next to her was some teenage kid wearing a blue and grey uniform with dark messy hair and a mask that covered only a small bit of the excited pink flush on their beige face. They smiled so big, and so ridiculously that they wobbled back and forth in pure euphoric joy.

Dr. Rage marched to the center of the line and stood big and tall, and once again he somehow remained completely in shadow. 

“Enjoy your time here. Most of you won’t be here for long.” 

Arin could hear the hearts beating around her as everyone’s blood pressure rose. 

“This is the Ultimatum Training Academy. We have formed and created some of the greatest minds in superheroism right here in this building. I think I can say with the utmost confidence: YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE.” Dr. Rage yelled these words, loud and strong. 

Everyone jumped backwards. One kid hiccupped fire.

“But we shall see,” Dr. Rage continued at a more indoor-appropriate level. “Welcome to your initiation. The most important thing you will learn today is this: being a good hero means being a good regular person. Your secret identity is your life. Today, I will be assigning you a job, a living space, and a life that you will adhere to without question until the day you decide to retire or get good enough to not need one. Failure to keep this identity a secret from anyone, aside from those we specifically permit, will result in your complete and permanent ban from this program, and any hope of ever being a member of the Ultimatum will be lost. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

Lightning. Wind. Thunder. 

Everyone nodded their nervous heads in perfect synchronization. 

Dr. Rage walked to the end of the line, opposite of Arin. There, a pretty and petite young girl stood. She appeared to be just barely of teenage years and wore a costume somewhat similar in style to the one Arin rejected. Except, instead of bright-ass red, hers was a dark and ominous green. A cloak hid her already deep complexion and curly hair in shadow so solid it had to be magical. A matching leotard, sans miniskirt, covered her upper body, while tan tights covered her legs. The whole thing was covered in vines and floral designs, except where boots rose up to her knees, with heels way too high for crime fighting in Arin’s biased opinion. 

“You there! Name? Powers?”  Dr. Rage pointed at the girl. 

“Lillian Paddle, witchcraft,” the girl said with confidence. 

Dr. Rage paused aside from raising one eyebrow.

 “No. You watch way too many movies,” Lillian said to answer an unasked question, causing Dr. Rage to raise the other eyebrow. “I can also read minds, and I respectfully request that you change your current decision about my identity.” 

Dr. Rage opened his mouth to speak, but Lillian beat him to it again. “And that one too.” There was a weird silent moment before she concluded, “That one I am okay with.” 

The loud, mumbling man scribbled something on a note card and shoved it at the teen in green before stepping over to the next person.