Training was hell. Oscar hadn't been expecting otherwise, though.

He thought he'd have been used  to the grueling, early morning sessions that taxed his entire body by now. He was wrong. So very wrong.

Chase, Emily, Angus, and Kai were all exempt from training. They got to spend the day relaxing and drinking protein shakes from The Acropolis' cafeteria. Oscar sighed longingly at the thought of a peanut butter and banana smoothie.

He wished he'd been selected for the mission at the docks the night before. He knew why Chase didn't choose him, though. While he'd gotten better at fighting, he still wasn't on par with his team leader, Emily, or Kai—the group's main combat specialists. Plus, his powers would've caused damage to their surroundings. Fire was useful, but not in every setting.

Over the past few months, he had learned that the hard way.

He wasn't all too fussed with not going on the mission, though. After all, he didn't have to sit a vat of ice water for thirty minutes like the others. There was nothing worse for a pyrokinetic than wallowing in a pool of freezing liquid.

It was his least favorite thing about victory.

The day's training, conducted by Agent Strong and a few other senior Atlas agents, consisted of rock wall climbing races, two-on-two duels in the Battlefield, and target practice. Oscar came last in almost all the events—which was to be expected.

Winning any sort of race against Theo or Zach—another speedster who joined their squad that past summer—was next to impossible. During the practice battles in the simulation room, he'd been pitted against Andre and Holly, one of the new members who could control plants.

Target practice was the only thing he was good at. He usually could hit the farther cutouts in the shooting range with his fireballs, but something was off. He figured he was just having a bad day.

Following the end of training, he decided to pay his favorite person in the world a visit before he left headquarters to meet his uncle and sister at their new apartment—courtesy of Atlas Industries.

He found Victoria Shaw sparring against a man in full-body padding. Her opponent was red in the face as he directed a flurry of wild punches her way. But the girl was good. Scary good. She reminded Oscar of those deadly assassins in every cheesy action movie.

The daughter of Atlas' CEO was a fine specimen. She was tall and lithe like a professional model. Her long, black ponytail bounced against her back. She was clad in a black sports bra and form-fitting leggings that completed her figure greatly.

Oscar was convinced Director Shaw had magically genes. His daughter was basically a super-soldier and his son was an actual super-soldier.

He frowned slightly at the thought of Apex. He hadn't been heard from since the Battle of Adak Island. Every trace of his being vanished from the face of the earth. Atlas had given up their pursuit of him a few weeks prior, deeming their investigation conclusive.

But Chase was still searching in secret. In fact, he'd only told Oscar and Emily about it.

Oscar had no idea why the boy was so obsessed, but he wasn't one to question things he didn't care about it. Kismet was dismantled and Kane was dead. What Apex was doing wasn't too important to him.

Shaking his head, he continued watching Victoria embarrass her sparring partner.

"Can you give me a challenge?" Victoria taunted as she side-stepped a jab. "This is too easy."

Grinning, Oscar leaned against the doorframe and watched as she dispatched her poor sparring partner with a swift leg-lock around the neck that looked like it came straight out of a Judo guidebook.

After her opponent tapped out, Victoria popped up from the ground with a triumphant smile plastered across her sweaty face. It disappeared after she spotted Oscar watching her. She grabbed a towel from a nearby agent and walked over to him.

"Why're you spying on me, creep?"

"Spying?" Oscar held a hand to his heart as if he'd been wounded. "I was merely marveling your fighting expertise."

She rolled her eyes at him while wiping her glistening forehead. "Yeah, yeah. What do you want, Oz?"

"I can't say 'goodbye' to my favorite person?"

"Wait, you're leaving today?"

Oscar nodded. "Yep. Supposed to be taking my sister to the zoo."

Victoria smiled. "Have I ever told you how much I like Isabella more than I like you?"

"Yeah, you might've mentioned it." He scowled playfully at her. He then arched an eyebrow at her. "When are you gonna show me that leg hook thingy? I've been wanting to use it during my missions."

She snorted. "You're nowhere near athletic enough to pull that off."

He cast a look to her sculpted abdomen and toned legs. Looking down at his own self, he realized she was right. His abs—or lack thereof—always prevented him from being great.

"A boy a can dream," he grumbled with a defeated shrug.

Victoria walked past him and out of the room. Naturally, he followed behind her.

"You hear Senator Crane's interview this morning?" she asked as she continued down the corridor.

Jogging to keep up with her, he shook his head. "I was asleep. You know, because it was at like four in the morning. What was it about anyway? I don't really keep up with politics."

"Me neither but you might want to keep tabs on this," she replied. "Crane's trying to propose a set of laws to the United Nations about Primes. He wants more government control and more protocols to prevent collateral damage."

Oscar's face fell.

Images of cracked limestone falling from the sky and fires burning in the air stabbed his brain for a moment. He faltered behind Victoria a bit. She glanced at him over her shoulder and frowned.

"You alright?"

Swallowing hard, he nodded and forced a smile. "Yep." He joined her at her side. "Maybe this Crane guy is onto something."

"Oh yeah, he's onto something alright," Victoria said. "There's a summit with the United Nations soon. My father is going to debate against Crane's proposal."

"What's so bad about it?"

"Crane has a track record for stuff like this," she explained. "The prison system in this country is mainly due to his administration. Imagine the damage he could do if he's elected president and this PRA thing goes through."

Oscar nodded slowly. She had a point. He never really liked politicians anyways. They always had something up their sleeve.

"I'm sure Director Shaw will get everyone to see that it's something they shouldn't consider," he said.

"I hope so."

The two of them stopped at the end of the corridor. The door to the hangar stood before them.

"Well, this is where I leave you," Oscar said while wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

Victoria suppressed a smile. "You're annoying."

"I think you meant hilarious," he countered.

"Nope. I meant annoying."

He waved her off. "Are you gonna miss me while I'm gone?"

"Probably not."

He pouted at her.

"Just hurry up and get back," she told him. A small smile played on her lips. "We might need you for something."

"Will do, Vicky," Oscar replied. He gave her a two-finger salute before opening the hangar door. "See ya soon."

"Bye, Oscar."

Grinning, he disappeared into the hangar.

That day, Oscar learned he hated the zoo.

He'd been to the one in his hometown a few times as a kid, but he didn't remember it too much. After following his sister around the animal-themed park, he was grateful he couldn't recall any memories from that wretched place. Not only did it smell like animal droppings, but it was full of annoying children and adults who couldn't wait to leave.

The snacks weren't even that good.

While he was there, he had tried his best to be incognito. Now, he wasn't the most famous of his group of superpowered friends, but he was one of the first to join Atlas. That basically made him a celebrity. The newbies were kept out of the spotlight per Director Shaw's orders. As for himself and his friends, they were the figureheads of the entire operation.

The media referred to them as the Original Six; the Saviors of the World. They were the ones who were going to pick up the pieces of the world after Kismet broke the sky.

The public loved Chase. They couldn't get enough of Sentinel. He was the cool and calm leader of the team. Not to mention he looked like came straight out of a fitness magazine. He was the world's golden boy.

The people loved the others as well—even Emily. Her intense personality and no-nonsense attitude went over well certain audiences. Andre even had his own internet fanbase. For such a quiet guy, his social media presence was strong.

Oscar was the one they didn't like. His powers were deemed wild. Unstable. Dangerous. The fight in Moscow only fueled the fire for the public's disdain of Fuego. They didn't hate him, but they didn't trust him either.

He didn't really blame them either. He was still adjusting to his job as a superhero.

Luckily, no one recognized him as he enjoyed his time with Isabella and uncle in the zoo. Then again, he had begun to change his appearance of late. His black curls had grown out, now stopping just below his ears. He'd also gotten tanner over the summer. The beginnings of a mustache had begun to sprout above his lip as well.

Theo begged him to shave the monstrosity—his exact words—off, but Oscar wasn't budging. He liked his 'stache. It made him look...older. More refined. Andre said it made him look like a dweeb. But what did Andre know?

No one at the zoo said anything about it. Though, no one was going to tell a random stranger their facial hair sucked.

Once Oscar's sister revealed she was ready to go home, he almost cried tears of joy. After they stopped to get some ice cream, they headed downtown to the apartment complex Atlas had placed his family in. It was a nice place—much better than his dorm at The Acropolis.

Not only did they get his uncle and sister a new pad, they also placed Isabella into a prestigious private school. His uncle, along with Andre's dad who moved to Oregon as well, was given the funds to open a new auto shop. On their day's off, Oscar and Andre would stop by and help out. Though, they usually spent most of their time there signing autographs and showing off their abilities.

Oscar owed everything to Atlas. They had saved him and helped his family. They were his family now too—all of them.

"I love the zoo!" Isabella exclaimed upon entering the apartment.

"Yeah," he grumbled, "we know." He turned to his uncle as he closed the door behind him. "You mind if I crash here for the night? I don't really want to drive back up to the base."

"For sure, mijo," Jose replied while walking into the kitchen. "You're always welcome here, man."

He grinned. "Thanks, tio." Glancing at the living room, he spotted his sister sitting on the carpet in front of the television. She was watching some colorful children's show about talking bears or something.

Shaking his head, he took a seat on one of the couches and watched with her.

Once Isabella fell asleep on the floor, Oscar picked her up and took her to her room.

He pursed his lips at the state of her living quarters. Toys were strewn everywhere, clothes hung out of her hamper, and her bed wasn't made. Frowning, he looked down at the sleeping girl in her arms.

"I'm supposed to be the messy one, not you," he whispered while patting her back.

Sighing, he laid her down in bed and tucked her underneath the pink covers. He watched her sleep for a few moments. Her little nose twitched her few seconds, a trait she had picked up from their father. Smiling, he planted a quick kiss on her forehead and left the room.

After grabbing a soda from the refrigerator and saying goodnight to his uncle, he ventured into the spare bedroom at the end of the main hall.

He took a seat on the edge of the plain bed and pulled out his phone.

A few notifications popped onto the screen. Most were text messages from his friends or alerts from social media sites. But one, in particular, caught his eye.

It was from a news app he didn't even know he head. He tapped the icon and scrolled to the digital article. A picture of Senator Alastair Crane hovered above the writing. His gray irises stared into Oscar's soul. Shuddering, he began to read the news report.

He almost wished he hadn't.

It revealed the Crane was planning on cracking down harder on Prime activity if he were to be elected as president of the United States. That meant upping security measures, breaching privacy standards, and other violations to basic human rights. His end goal wasn't the PRA—it was just the steppingstone.

The man wanted full and total control.

Scowling, Oscar locked his phone and tossed it across his bed.

Victoria was right. The guy was bad news. He hoped Director Shaw would be able to convince the United Nations of the same.

Yawning, he kicked his shoes off and began to change into the nightclothes he left in the closet. As he tugged on a pair of shorts, a rush of movement outside the window to his right caught his eye. He froze and snapped his eyes to the curtains. They were rustling ever so slightly. A light breeze from outside seeped in through the opened window.

He arched an eyebrow at it. Had Uncle Jose been smoking in there? Shaking his head, he journeyed over to the windowsill and prepared to close the window. Before he could do so, he took a peek at the fire escape before him.

There was nothing there. Pursing his lips, he let his gaze linger for just a few more seconds before returning to his bed.

Perhaps he was just seeing ghosts.