Gabriel found Reed after dinner.

  "You and I. Gym. Now.”

  The kid looked startled, but he followed without argument. It was time for his physical assessment. The lack of warning wasn't Gabriel's favorite choice, but sometimes the lack of preparation exposed weaknesses he wouldn't otherwise know.

  Gabriel had changed into his training clothes: a thin long-sleeve shirt and sweatpants in charcoal gray. When the new recruit entered in shorts and a T-shirt, Gabriel noted he'd removed his sunglasses again.

  The standard assessments went as expected. Timed treadmill run, flexibility, pushups, situps. The rookie's baseline fitness wasn't too terrible, but his form could definitely be improved.

  "What's next, boss?" He asked, trying to hide how hard he was breathing.

  Gabriel glanced at his watch. "Five minutes to rest and get water. Then we spar."

  Gabriel watched his face carefully. No fear. Just a flicker of... anticipation? Interesting.

  ***

  The kid's fighting style was theatrical. Too much flourish, too many unnecessary movements. But Gabriel had to admit that it was effective enough. Every movement was a performance, each dodge and strike designed to draw the eye. Flashy. Distracting.

  Gabriel came in with measured strikes, no powers, no weapons. Just testing. He needed to understand what he was working with before he pushed harder.

  Reed deflected, dodged, spun low and brought the staff up in an arc that nearly caught Gabriel off guard. It didn't land, but it created space. Smart.

  Gabriel could feel the magnetic field around himself responding to his focus, the familiar hum of potential energy. The rookie seemed to sense it too: he kept trying to create distance.

  The kid never landed a hit, but he kept Gabriel moving. That counted for something. And as the sparring continued, he adapted. Taking fewer hits. Learning Gabriel's patterns.

  "Where'd you learn that?" Gabriel finally asked.

  "Color guard. You know, the flags and rifles at halftime shows. Then I took up fire spinning. Since I couldn't burn myself, y'know."

  Color guard. That explained the performance, the emphasis on spectacle over efficiency.

  "Interesting. Have you ever done any martial arts?"

  "Nah. Between monologuing on stage and twirling things around, I was too swamped to pick up karate."

  The kid grinned, but his gaze wasn't quite meeting Gabriel's. He remembered back to his interview. Not good at eye contact. He briefly considered pushing the issue, the why.

  "Theatre,” Gabriel said instead. “That explains a lot."

  "Thanks!” Caden beamed as if it was a compliment. It wasn't, but it wasn't not a compliment either. “But I might consider karate if you were the instructor.”

  Caden winked in Gabriel's general direction.

  Dios mío.

  Gabriel turned his attention to that staff. He focused on it. The outer shell wasn't metallic, but he sensed something inside it that was. He pressed. The staff didn't fly immediately; it fought. He put in a little more effort. Half a second later, the staff finally twisted as the internal components responded. It wrenched out of Reed's grip and clattered to the floor. For just a moment, the kid froze, his face twisted. Pain, quickly masked. Gabriel hadn't meant to aggravate his bad wrist.

  "Okay,” Reed said. “I get it. I'll focus."

  The boy shook his left wrist out before he put his fists up. He waited for Gabriel to make the first move.

  Gabriel nudged the staff aside with his foot and studied Reed. The kid's body language had changed completely. He was less confident without the prop. Defensive. Gabriel’s first thought was that he would have to work with him on that. His second thought was that there was something here he wasn't seeing yet.

  Gabriel finally attacked. Reed dodged, but barely.

  Then something odd happened.

  Reed closed his eyes.

  Thoughts ran through Gabriel's head as he went for a second strike. Reed twisted at the last second, his eyes snapping open as the hit grazed his shoulder. Then Gabriel came in low and fast from the opposite angle.

  The hit landed firmly in Reed's ribs. He staggered back, breath knocked out of him.

  Gabriel had deliberately varied his approach, his angle, his rhythm. And Reed had lost the thread entirely.

  "Enough. We need to talk."

  The boy went still. His breathing was labored, his shoulders tense.

  Gabriel had a theory, but he wanted to hear it from the boy himself.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "What was that?" Gabriel kept his tone even. Not angry. Just focused. He needed answers, not defensiveness.

  "A dramatic battle reenactment?" Reed tried to grin through it, rubbing his left wrist again.

  Gabriel just stared at him. He'd learned that silence was, at times, more effective than interrogation. With people like Caden, you let the pause stretch. Let them fill it.

  Reed shifted his weight, clearly resisting the urge to joke his way out. Good. This mattered too much for deflection.

  Gabriel tried to let the silence run its course, but Reed didn't speak up. Instead, the kid shifted his weight from foot to foot.

  Gabriel did not know what exactly Reed needed for him to open up. He decided to give him something. A trade.

  He let his current flow across his fingers. Blue-white arcs danced between his knuckles.

  Then he closed his eyes and it shut down. Not gradually. Immediately. Like throwing a switch.

  "My powers need line of sight,” Gabriel admitted. “No visuals, no current."

  "So that's what's up with all the lights on your suit. How far that little candle throws its beams!"

  The Shakespeare seemed automatic. Gabriel would just have to get used to it.

  "And why I barely blink,” Gabriel continued.

  "Ah, so it's not shadows that undo you. I'll cancel the order for the nightlight."

  Humor. He was deflecting again. Gabriel didn't react. Instead, he kept his voice calm. Factual. "I gave you information. Now I expect the same."

  Reed's face pointed down at his feet. The silence stretched on.

  Gabriel pushed. "Why did you close your eyes mid-fight?"

  The kid didn't reply immediately. Gabriel was beginning to think he'd have to force the issue.

  "You can't tell Sadie,” a small voice finally said.

  He wasn't going to promise anything without knowing what Reed wanted hidden, so Gabriel waited for him to continue.

  "I mean it. I want her to see what I can do. Not what I can't. Not yet."

  He released a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "I mean… not just her, obviously. I didn't want you or the Slated Shroud to know either. I just…frick."

  Reed's shoulders dropped. "Sometimes it's easier to follow the heat and sound around me than to use my eyes."

  There it was. Gabriel's theory was correct. But he didn't reply immediately. He sensed there was more he wanted to say.

  "Actually…” Reed continued. “It's more than sometimes."

  His fingers twitched at his side.

  "I have Stargardt disease. It's kinda like tunnel vision but reversed. I have my peripheral vision. Center's mostly static,” the words tumbled out in quick succession, as if he were afraid if he stopped he wouldn't resume. “But the staff has a sensor. It buzzes to tell me stuff and can even link to an earpiece. Picks up movement, distance, surface changes. Gives me a read on the room. Kind of like sonar. It helped me fight. Navigate new spaces. Not walk into walls.

  “Also,” Caden gave a small smile. “It has my best playlists loaded on it. So it's basically life support."

  “Life support.” Not technically accurate, Gabriel thought.

  Reed continued, demonstrating the staff's modifications. The button that extended the length from a baton to a bo staff. A different button to deploy a white cane tip. The sensor system integrated throughout.

  Gabriel processed it all, logistics running through his head. He'd have to adapt some things, but this was manageable. The only complication was his niece. How did the recruit expect to hide something like this from a healer?

  "Are you going to say anything or…?" Reed trailed off.

  Right. He hadn't provided verbal confirmation. "Thank you for the information, Reed."

  Gabriel reached out with his power and pulled the staff from the floor into his hand.

  Gabriel scanned the boy's face. Fear was written all over it. "We can work with that,” Gabriel reassured. “I'll tell Ryn to enable audio cues on your suit's HUD. That said, your initial physical includes a vision test. I can flag it as unnecessary if you get your ophthalmologist to send over documentation of your diagnosis.

  He softened his voice slightly. “But Sadie's not stupid. She'll notice the omission if she ever has reason to look at your personnel file.”

  His face fell as Gabriel pressed the end of the staff into Caden's hand. "Got it. I'll…tell her before she notices."

  Gabriel nodded out of habit, then considered if Reed was able to see it. "Go grab some water, then we'll continue."

  "Wait."

  "Yes?"

  "Can you not tell Shroud yet either?"

  "She probably already knows, but yes."

  His wife noticed everything. But if Reed felt the need to maintain his secret for now, Gabriel would respect that.

  The recruit retrieved his water bottle. It was a bright yellow. Intentional, Gabriel thought.

  Gabriel resumed after Reed returned. "You shouldn't have let me take your staff that easily."

  "Yeah,” Reed rubbed the back of his neck.

  "You can work with your limits. I don't care about that. But if that staff is part of your body in a fight? Then it's a part you don't let go of any more than you'd let someone rip an arm or leg off."

  "Got it, boss."

  "No,” Gabriel kept his voice low but firm. “I don't think you do yet. But you will."

  Caden spun the staff nervously.

  "You've got good reflexes."

  The kid's face lit up with a grin he tried to suppress. Gabriel noted the reaction: he responded to praise. That was useful information.

  Time to push in a different direction.

  "You're fireproof,” Gabriel stated.

  Reed nodded.

  “That doesn't come from nowhere. You're a pyromancer. You just haven't learned to access it yet.”

  “How do I access it then?”

  "That's something you’ll have to figure out, Reed.”

  “C'mon, boss. Give me something to work with!”

  “Alright,” Gabriel paused to consider. “You work with clay."

  "Yep,” Reed said, clearly unsure where this was going.

  "You shape things with your hands."

  "I do."

  "So what's stopping you from shaping something out of fire?"

  "…Well, for starters, fire's not exactly solid."

  "Have you tried?"

  "I haven't tried pretending it's clay, no."

  “Try it.”

  “You want me to just… make fire appear?”

  Gabriel could hear the nerves beneath the words.

  “Yes. It's like a muscle you've never used before. It won't be easy.”

  The first attempts were fruitless. His palms stayed empty. Gabriel suggested he focus, visualize, try different approaches. He closed his eyes, trying not to overthink it.

  Gabriel watched, analyzing. The kid was concentrating hard, but nothing was happening. Gabriel had never taught a pyromancer specifically, but he knew it took time to learn conscious control of powers. This wasn't unusual.

  "That's enough for tonight,” Gabriel finally said, his voice gentler than usual as he turned towards the locker rooms. Unscheduled assessments were efficient, but they took more out of him than he liked to admit. He was ready for this to be over.

  "You want a towel?" Gabriel added.

  The boy didn't reply straight away.

  "Look!” Reed suddenly shouted, ecstatic.

  Gabriel turned around. In his palm was a flame no bigger than a matchstick.

  Gabriel almost smiled. He hadn't expected much on the first day.

  Then he noticed the color in his face, the slight sway. The flame winked once before going out completely. Gabriel crossed the distance between them in 3 long strides, his hands already reaching out to steady the boy.

  Reed- no, Caden- dropped like a stone. Gabriel barely caught him in time.

  "Caden,” Gabriel called as he lowered him gently to the ground. “Caden, can you hear me?”

  But the boy was unresponsive. Gabriel checked him over. Rapid pulse. Skin cold and clammy. Lips pale and bluish.

  What the hell happened?

  Gabriel pushed a button on his wrist watch. "Sadie. Medical emergency in the training gym. Now.”

  The tightness in his chest finally registered. Concern.