As I left the woods, the sound of orientation hit me like a Titan’s fist; music and cheering and a godawful number of eighteen-year-olds relishing their first day away from Mommy and Daddy. For the normals who formed the bulk of the Academy’s student body, it was a day of celebration.
The Powers who made up the incoming class of first-years weren’t getting a party. They were in an auditorium near the center of campus, where Dean Bard was telling them they were all going to die. Welcome to life as a Cape in the only democracy left in North America. Shit’s not easy. Even making it to graduation isn’t a guarantee.
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