Supernova

Chapter Twelve - The Concrete Heart Jungle

America, as a country, is largely a formality. In reality, it is two remaining compounds that have hero armies large and strong enough to defend themselves from the wastes outside their walls. The council and the fact that they are constantly under attack are some of the only things the two compounds share. In fact, they are worlds apart.

The New York Training Institute, informally known as the Concrete Heart Jungle, rightfully so, was as full of monsters as it was surrounded by them. Their tour schedule was week-on-week-off, and mostly involved treks into treacherous weather conditions and areas littered with vicious individuals willing to kill for what seemed like little more than fun. Their training schedule took up almost every waking hour that was not dedicated to eating or sleeping. My childhood and disability had trained me well for the state of affairs, but if I had been any other kid from California, I don't know if I could have handled it.

But I was, in fact, Cassie Stronghold, and New York was exactly the change of scenery I needed. Only two of the ten council members that made up the rules and regulations of the compounds, number four and number seven, were from the New York compound, and it was rare that they showed up to meetings or voted on things. They didn't care about any of the flashy, sparkly, pompous behaviour or formalities that California revolved around. It was all about performance and results. Which was fine by me. I shined there even more than I had in California.

It was during my eight whole months here that I continued to realize that there was something deeply disturbing that made up my soul. The training and tours were more intense because this compound got attacked a lot more than the one I grew up in. The student death rate on tour was bad, but the death rate within the school, despite being reported low to maintain image, was worse, due largely to overexertion, suicide, and students blatantly murdering students. How I'd come to this realization about myself was because most of the students looked nervous and eternally exhausted, and nervous breakdowns were common. Nobody seemed to be that good of friends with anyone else, and with the high death rate of students, it seemed that was advantageous. But I still liked it there, and it was the absence of these traits that I used to decide who was worth spending time with. Do what you will with this information, but I met many of the boys who ended up in my room as they cornered me in dark corners of the hallways, smirking at them as their useless quirks hit my skin in a way that would have undoubtedly killed anyone else.

I didn't make a single friend during my entire eight months there. But that's not to say I didn't make acquaintances. My dorm room door was always locked now, seeing as I had no spare time and was therefore doing no freelance training, but that didn't mean it wasn't a revolving door. Most of the boys around me were chock full of hormones and rage, and were more than willing and eager when a decently pretty girl was batting her eyelashes at them, offering them a way to blow off as much steam as they wanted. Plus, I was Cassie Stronghold, head councilman's daughter, which added to my allure. I had my pick of them.

I say acquaintances when I really mean means to an end. I had actually kept notches, to feed my own ego, and remind them how insignificant they were to me when they were getting too comfortable. In fact, I'd make them watch me carve their entire existence into my dorm bed headboard after I was done with them. It was the only thing besides redressing that occurred between the act itself and me kicking them out. As far as sensation, they were all about the same, and they all blurred together. A decent amount of them eventually ended up dying anyways. I didn't mourn any of them. In fact, I couldn't tell you a single one of their names.

The staff wasn't off the table, either. However, it was a different game that I played with them. It was very little about sensation and very much about proving myself. That last fight I lost was still sitting somewhere very deep in my chest. I wanted to recreate that fight over and over until I was sure I couldn't be bested. I'd had a surprisingly, and perhaps depressingly, high amount of success among seducing the staff. Perhaps it shouldn't have surprised me so much. They had, after all, raised and watched over the bunch of psychopaths that filled the school. More than that, I wasn't an idiot. I knew not many people, including myself, actually liked my father when his back was turned.

It was also this school where I really learned to kill. That's right. I'm a cold-blooded murderer. Hopefully you're not too disappointed or surprised. I'd taken a few lives on tour in California, only in those rare situations when I hadn't had a choice, when it was them or us, but in New York, the tours were brutal. Almost every situation was one in which it was them or us, and not only did I want to make a reputation for myself as being a powerhouse, but I wanted to be known as a protector. Someone safe to be with. Very few people working on a team with me ever lost their lives on tour. In fact, only two ever had, and it was because I'd made a split-second decision in a frenzied situation that otherwise would have killed seven. Unlike Melanie, or some of the others, I didn't really mind the violence or the death. It was just another game to me, and I excelled at it.

I probably would have stayed at the NYTI until graduation too. Although I'm not sure who I would have married, or if my father had even been keeping tabs on possible suitors from this school, or there was even any point. However, one day I was called into the Headmaster's office, for what I figured was an unscheduled romp on his desk between lunch and afternoon training. Instead, there was a tall, blonde woman there in heels the size of my head with a waist the size of my wrist telling me to take a seat. She was holding my public student file.

She was a scout for the Switzerland Hero Academy, the most prestigious and renowned quirk training academy in the world. She explained it to me in professional academic language, but basically it was some hoity-toity, invite-only place for exceptional students with powerful quirks and extremely wealthy families. In Europe. I don't even know how much the tuition would be. Likely ridiculous, even for us. But that didn't matter. They were offering me a full scholarship for the privilege of having me at their institution. My ego inflated nearly five times its already ridiculous size upon hearing that single phrase.

I told her that it was an interesting offer, and I'd certainly think it over and be in touch. I took her card, the folder of information and pamphlets, and shook her hand solidly. My aloofness pleased her deeply; I could see it in her eyes. Once she left and the door closed behind her, the Headmaster motioned suggestively to his desk and I told him to think twice before proposing such vile things to someone so far above him. I then knocked a gorgeous glass paperweight off his desk onto the floor, carelessly stepping on the shards on my way out.

I called my dad from my dorm room and told him. His voice was thick with pride. He told me that if there was going to be anywhere I would learn quirk control, it would be there. I skipped afternoon training to pack, and the Stronghold plane picked me up after dinner that night. I would have endless resources and I'd be surrounded by the most impressive people on earth, one of which would surely make me the most extraordinary Empress on the face of the planet. It was an every-bird-one-stone type situation.