Out of nowhere, air becomes knives.

  I watch in surprise for a split second before I duck quickly behind a stone wall and then activate the portable shield generator on my belt, my well honed instincts kicking in. I grab at my belt for the blasters that aren’t there, prohibited at a place like this, and curse.

  Supersonic wind bursts spin in discs and slice straight through thick tree trunks in the courtyard of Saint Marianne’s Hospice and explode on contact. A few discs of wind whistle uncomfortably close above me and crack into the wall I’m behind. Cracks appear and I get ready to move, unsure if my shield will hold up to this kind of attack.

  I leap, staying low to the ground, then roll behind a stronger cement wall. As I do I catch a glimpse of deadly shards and splinters of wood that explode everywhere, all shooting outward from an elderly lady in a wheelchair. She looks out to lunch, her mouth hanging open and a blank look on her face. The tough reinforced glass and concrete of the buildings around me deflect all the shrapnel back into a hail of debris that fills the air. It’s not somewhere I expected to find danger, but it’s clear the hospice is prepared for it.

  That’s one hell of a Power for an old lady!

  The barrage of wreckage continues for a few seconds until it’s halted suddenly. I can see above me that the spinning hardened air blades of destruction have struck a shimmering barrier that seems to shrink further and further toward the old woman to contain the damage. Eventually, all the spinning wind blades disperse back into thin air and the airborne chaos slowly settles while leaves and dust float softly to the ground. In contrast to the smashing stone and the exploding wood, it’s now remarkably quiet. No doubt any birds or small animals caught in the maelstrom have either run for their lives or lost them.

  “Jacinta!” calls an intriguing voice with an Australian accent from my left, and then there’s a short pause. I can’t see who’s talking. “Are you done now?”

  My heart is still pounding a bit from the unexpected surprise, but my curiosity gets the better of me so I poke my head out around the corner of the wall to see who’s speaking. I stay low in case Jacinta isn’t done with her rampage for a few more seconds before I stand. My shield generator might be strong enough to protect me if Jacinta gets going again, but I’m not confident enough to be cavalier about it. Some Powers have the ability to bypass technological protections entirely and - you just never know. Random violence is something you get used to when everyone in the world has some kind of Power, plus hostile Galactic relationships and the odd overflowing Dungeon.

  “Name’s Jetstream!” croaks the old lady, who then starts mumbling to herself. “Those bloody Villains will never get me.” I can only hear what she says because I’m so close; the sound from her weak voice doesn’t carry far and I pull Jacinta’s information to see what we’re dealing with, plus a bit of curiosity.

  Jacinta “Jetstream” Alonso

  Level: 154

  Power: Wind Blade (Tier 1 Major)

  Conditions: None

  Yikes! I didn’t expect Level 154. Her Status indicates she’s not under the influence of anything or anyone, just old and probably affected by dementia. To still have a Major Power at her age is pretty outstanding and Level 154 means she’s seen a lot of shit - Jetstream must have been a real force to be reckoned with in her day with a Level and Power like that.

  I spot the girl who spoke as she walks toward Jacinta, hands outstretched with her palms up like she’s done it a hundred times. In her early twenties, she has big eyes, sharp cheekbones, and long blonde hair. There’s a distinct aura of calm and positivity around her as if she’s not particularly bothered by what’s going on despite the chaos. I note she’s also wearing a rest home uniform that can’t completely disguise how athletic she is. A quick glance around tells me the girl is the only other one here, so maybe it’s her Power that’s contained the damage and not some automatic defence systems of Saint Marianne’s. That would be a pretty decent Power, especially in a place like this where residents start losing control.

  Lucy Halloway

  Level: 12

  Power: Force Field (Tier 2 Major)

  Conditions: None

  Wow! Starting off with a Tier 2 Major Power like that with so much utility is hugely fortunate. No doubt she’ll focus on an Evolution for it at Level 50 and 100 to get it to Epic rather than picking up a complementary Power, if she ever makes it that far. Unlikely working at Saint Marianne’s though… just not enough stress and experience, even if she’s a training maniac with a good mentor. She’d be better off joining the Earth Defence Force; it’s what I’d do, if I had a Power like that. It’s not hard to be a bit jealous.

  “Jacinta, it’s Lucy. Are you ok? Are you ready to come inside?” she asks. I decide I’m happy that Lucy works here even if it’s stunting her Power growth. It could make this assignment safer and more enjoyable at the same time.

  After a short pause of silence, it does indeed seem that Jetstream Jacinta is done, at least for now… no doubt there will be more episodes, but it’s quiet as Lucy calmly circles around the wheelchair and drops her hands to the handles so she can push Jacinta toward the door. I can’t really see the old woman’s face anymore for a good look because her grey hair has fallen down over her slumped head, but I can see her exposed forearms and the crooked, frail frame rattling around inside her clothes. Now there’s a few seconds to properly assess her and I'm even more amazed than I was. By her looks, she must be over 90 which means in her prime before her Power declined she might even have had a Tier 2 Epic Power.

  Since the coast is looking pretty clear now, I dust myself off, then start to follow them into the building. As soon as I move, Lucy notices me out of the corner of her eye and turns toward me suddenly.

  “Oh my God! Are you okay?” she asks and takes a step forward toward me before glancing back at Jacinta. An angsty look crosses her face and then it’s clear she decides that she better not leave Jacinta alone. I agree.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Yeah, fine thanks,” I assure her. Lucy nods in relief and apparently dismisses me from her mind then proceeds to push the wheelchair through the doors and into Saint Marianne’s. My height and build mean people don’t usually dismiss me that quickly, but she must have pulled my Level and Power right away to see if I was in danger. With our Power difference, the unofficial gap in our social status is bigger than the Grand Canyon.

  After one last resigned look down at my pants and a shrug, I pick my way across the courtyard and make it to the entrance where Lucy and Jetstream disappeared. The entryway has blast doors that look like they’re rated to stop at least Major and maybe even Epic Powers; I can see from where I am that the walls are reinforced and thick.

  I take a deep breath and get ready to go in. Not because I think there will be any danger. More to get my head straight about how I want to go about this job and what I want to get out of it. I know I’m lucky to get this chance to spend time with my great Aunt here and doubly glad for the Credits while my parents’ estate transfer is still going through the courts. Presumed dead isn’t the same as dead to the courts, or to me.

  I pick up my duffle bag and then step into the sensor zone and get scanned. Like usual it takes a while, longer seemingly than for everyone else, and then the ponderously heavy doors slide open and I step into the entry. It’s a thoughtful balance between welcoming and secure which is what’s needed given the elderly residents and their diverse, often remarkable… often failing powers at their advanced age. The smell of cleaning products, flowers, and unknown foods hits me in a wave.

  The reception area beyond the entry is spacious and without the bright, harsh lights that a hospital or supermarket would have. Some windows let some natural light in, but it’s heavily filtered and I bet all of the panes are at least a foot thick, maybe more. In the middle of the room is a reception desk, a big curved and wooden number with reinforced metal edges and supports. Like a lot of furniture for these purposes, it’s chunky and super strong. Who knows what kind of visitor they might get that literally weighs a ton or has super strength?

  Multiple screens are positioned above the desk with information about what’s going on at the Saint Marianne’s and I expect to see some kind of a sign in device, but instead of a bunch of tech there are three people behind the desk. Two of them look very busy and important with paperwork, but the third is ready to assist me.

  Above the reception desk there’s also a ‘100 Years’ banner, like pretty much everywhere right now. Some would call it a blessing and some a curse, but 100 years ago Mana began flooding Earth and Powers began to emerge in everyone at or beyond puberty. That bit is definitely a blessing - I can only imagine the chaos and destruction that would have happened if babies had gotten Powers in the womb and blown their mothers apart with a Powered kick or a fireball.

  “Welcome to Saint Marianne’s,” the guy behind the reception desk says with a grin that shows off very white and straight teeth. I glance at his name badge - a novelty in today’s world and maybe for the old folks who have lost the ability to identify people. Fabian Booth. Looks like he’s been running this desk for a long time and knows what he’s doing. Friendly but professional. I know from experience sometimes these can be the hardest ones to get along with.

  Fabian Booth

  Level: 25

  Power: Situational Awareness (Tier 2 Minor)

  Conditions: Boosted

  Interesting. I wonder what’s boosting him and how much it enhances his Power.

  “Hi Fabian. Calrik Corvin,” I say, gesturing to myself. It’s always a polite thing to do even if he already knows. “I’m scheduled to be inducted as a care assistant today.” I’d like to think I’ve got some positive energy and a friendly expression to get me off on the right foot.

  “Your scan failed to resolve so I need to do a manual check. For your own safety and that of the residents, please just stay there. I’m required by law to inform you that automated defenses and our staff will use any force necessary to stop you if you try to enter Saint Marianne’s without approval. You don’t seem like you’re ready to cause any trouble, so let’s just keep it that way, ok?”

  Fabian consults his double tablet setup and seems to pull up my information, then he frowns.

  “Here we are… welcome aboard Calrik! It looks like we don’t have your Level and Power properly registered yet and they haven’t been registered properly by the scan; you’re showing up here as Level 1. You can either go back out to get scanned again or give me a notarised copy of your Power Tier evaluation, or your Power Registration ID?”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve got it,” I reply. It’s hard to keep my voice neutral no matter how many times I do this.

  “No, look,” he says and then turns the tablet he’s looking at around to show me what he’s looking at. “Power Unknown. No Classification. And… there’s no way at your age you’re still Level 1. Something’s wrong and I have to sort it out or we can’t let you in.”

  He says it so simply, like his statement explains everything. Which it does, just not in the way he thinks.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” I agree with Fabian. “Level one. And I don’t really have a Power.” He just stares at me for a while. Whatever’s happening behind his brown eyes doesn’t seem to be able to compute this.

  “Like… unknown unknown? And you’re actually Level 1?” he asks. “There’s no way you just hit puberty a few days ago, my man.” His expression is starting to turn to a mix of suspicion and confusion.

  “Unknown,” I agree again. “At least, no manifestation anyone can figure out. And therefore… also Level 1. Been stuck there for almost two decades.” Fabian still looks doubtful.

  “Call up my Dungeon Run Profile,” I suggest. “I included it in the materials you asked for.”

  “It’s not standard procedure for us to check the DRP - this is a hospice!”

  I shrug and wait, looking him in the eye. Eventually he taps on his tablet a few times and then frowns.

  “This says your DRP Rank is F+ Calrik. F+ at Level 1 with a Power so weak it doesn’t even register? How is that even possible?”

  “A lifetime of intense training,” I answer confidently. “It’s rare but not totally unheard of.” I leave unsaid that still being Level 1 is the total outlier; if I’m running Dungeons and have made it to F+, I should be gaining XP and Levels that I’m not.

  Fabian frowns in confusion and then looks me in the eye with a tiny bit of understanding.

  “Calrik, if you’re trying to keep your Level and Power on the down low, I get it. Your family no doubt has enough money and clout to make it happen. My cousin Jamal has this freaky Power and he does everything he can to keep it under wraps; he even got some really expensive tech to try to fool the scanners. And once I heard of this woman whose Power meant she couldn’t be scanned. But you gotta understand… we’ve got regulations and audits up the wazoo at a place like this. We got a lot of old people in Saint Marianne’s that can’t really control their Powers so well any more and they’re vulnerable. A couple of them are dangerous. Father Time’s still undefeated, you know? So I’ve gotta see if your Power interacts with any of their Powers. No matter who your Aunt is, they shouldn’t have told you to hide your Power here. Hiding your Level I can live with, but not your Power.”

  It’s not even worth going into all the details.

  “Is there some kind of name on the application for you to contact? That lets you clear this as a special case and validate what I’m saying?” I ask. I happen to know that my unique Power situation is the main reason I’ve got this gig, funded by the government and the Earth Defence Force. Auntie V needs a minder after everything she’s done for humanity and I seem to be the only one who’s qualified. They’ve promised Credits for my time, but more importantly some special help with my legal issues, even though I probably would have done this anyway. I’m required to pitch in however they need me for now to get familiar with the hospice and even after Auntie V arrives I’ll still inevitably have interactions with the other residents, which means potential danger if there is a Power issue. I get it.

  “Give me a minute,” Fabian says, and motions for me to take a seat in one of the wooden chairs positioned in the waiting room. I’ve been through this enough to know what’s likely going to happen when he finds out what he’s looking at is true. Jacinta and Lucy are nowhere to be seen. I wander over to the seats and settle in, confident it won’t take long.