Chapter Text
Present
Gym 12
Flint Marshal is so fucked.
He became anxious after the academic test, where he took the essential subjects and three languages. If Flint was honest with himself, he shook in his metaphorical boots. The Agility test was a breeze. Flint carefully jumped, slid, and climbed as quickly as possible with finesse.
Suppose you were supposed to almost set the course on fire, finesse. Anyway, Flint thought he did great!
The Strength test was next, and that was a little harder. Flint had to keep the weights intact as he lifted them as far as possible to test his strength. There were no weights harmed in the act.
Mostly.
The last two tests had the same result. Flint was always highly aware of his flaming body. Except when he's distracted, things get a bit singed. The Endurance test was easy since he was his living battery. Energy can not be made or destroyed; it can only be changed.
In this case, any power Flint released will always return to its source, himself. He didn't want to accidentally bump into something flammable or, worse, a human body. Ouch.
Now he has to pass that stupid horrible—
"—Control test. You will adjust your temperature for the next 10 minutes to whatever I toss you as quickly as possible without damaging it." Frank said, cutting off Flint's angsty thoughts.
"What?!" Flint panicked. Anxiety twists his stomach in thick knots. Frank looked up from his clipboard. When did Frank get a clipboard?!
Frank gave him an unamused stare.
"This is required if you want to go to a hero school. If you can't pass this test, then how will you be able to save a single life if they burn alive?" Flint flinched at the man's harsh words, but his coach was right. How can he save anyone when he could kill them just by a light touch?
However, his body couldn't move.
How could you!
Flint can't– he just isn't capable.
Monster!
He knows what he is.
So what if this was a Hero exam? If he passes this test? Flint glanced over to the 'mirror' across the gym floor.
Stealing his nerves, Flint nodded; his eyes seemingly glowed brighter without his knowledge.
Frank saw this, though. His determination leaked out of him like a furnace, just like when he claimed to become a hero all those years ago. Frank couldn't help but let a proud smile grace his face.
"Let's get started, kid."
—
Gym 12
Viewer room
Silence dominated the room as scientists, quirk analysts, and S.T.R.A.Y. board members stared in shock. It simply could not be possible. Yet it was as they looked through the large one-way mirror.
Nedzu grinned like a maniac on steroids.
There he was, Flint Marshal, flames taking a dark-red hue, holding a quite comfortable feline creature in his arms. Its gray tail moved lacily as it needed its paws on Flint's forearms. Although the cat looked content and laid back, Flint was focused and painstakingly nervous. His body language mirrored his narrowed eyes. Flint's face was hard to read when made of raging fire.
"This shouldn't be possible.." A scientist muttered. Numerous people in the room agreed. For all that Flint is, controlling his core to such a low level shouldn't be so simple. It was believed to be impossible. Especially for a long time, even if only for a few moments. The quirk analysts were buzzing in their seats.
This was something new and something significant. Whatever Flint's quirk is, it's not the simple combination of his parents' quirks. They readily wrote down their observations, muttering possible theories and new possibilities Flint's achievement could obtain through more training.
The Director of S.T.R.A.Y., Joshua Finland, had his jaw practically hanging on the floor. He silently sat back in his chair, eyes wide. Finland's face showed many emotions: disbelief, terror, and greed. But no matter how much he wanted to seize this opportunity, he couldn't get the words Nedzu said to him two days ago out of his head.
"He's a Supervillain in the making; you will be his catalyst."
"We'll take you up on that offer, Principal Nedzu.." Director Finland finally managed to say.
Then, the room erupted into chaos.