So the Renegades grew stronger, and so did the city, and so did the Council. They had accomplished much in a decade. They had much to be proud of.
And yet, with all this fanfare, all the hoopla and ceremony, Adrian couldn’t help feeling like they’d lost sight of the entire point. They were forgetting what they were.
Not celebrities. Not politicians.
Heroes.
“Would all patrol units please come onto the field,” said Blacklight.
The teams who had opted to stay in the corridor filed forward. Adrian found their table almost directly across from the gate where prodigy contestants would enter the field. He sat in the middle, with Ruby and Oscar on either side of him. Oscar scattered his array of snacks before them, and if he or Ruby cared that they were the only team snacking on fries and candy, they didn’t show it.
Ruby grabbed the small tablet that sat on the table and began reading through the instructions on how to accept or reject a contestant, and the important responsibility each team carried to make choices that would strengthen the Renegades as a whole.
After the initial burst of enthusiasm from the crowd had quieted, Blacklight explained the rules. Each contestant would be called out, one at a time, to answer questions from the team captains and perform a demonstration of their powers. Team captains could accept or reject the candidate, and the Council would have an opportunity to accept anyone who was not claimed by a team. If two or more teams wanted the same prodigy hopeful, that prodigy could choose which team to join.
“And at any time,” Blacklight went on, “should a team disagree with the selection from one of their contemporaries, they may challenge an acceptance. In this event, the prodigy hopeful must go head-to-head against a member of the challenging team, and must win their duel in order to join the Renegades.”
The crowd hollered. This was what they were hoping for. Not an easy selection process, but one full of twists and challenges and duels.
It wasn’t about finding new heroes to protect the people, Adrian thought. It was about the spectacle.
But the rules weren’t up to him.
“And now,” said Blacklight, lifting a fist into the air, “let the trials begin!”
Jets of light exploded from his hand—beams of red and gray bursting into fireworks over the arena.
The crowd roared.
Adrian took out his marker and doodled a miniature cannon onto the tablecloth, its fuse already lit. It was no bigger than his hand, but let off a startling bang as it released a torrent of confetti and smoke. The recoil pushed the cannon back on its wheel carriage and Adrian barely caught it as it rolled off the table’s edge. Ruby and Oscar clapped, but some of the Renegades at the next table cast them annoyed looks.
“A kazoo,” whispered Oscar. “Make me a kazoo.”
“Oh—I want cymbals,” said Ruby. “The cute little finger ones?”
Adrian set the cannon down and kept doodling as Blacklight went on, “Please welcome our first contestant of the evening, trying out for his third year in a row … Dan Reynolds, aka … The Crane!”
“I think I remember this guy,” said Ruby. “The origami one, right?”
It was indeed the origami one. A college-aged guy who could fold paper into intricately shaped creatures, and then make them move or flutter under his command. Unfortunately, the creatures weren’t sentient, which severely limited their usefulness.
The crowd booed and held up almost exclusively the ZERO sides of their cards. Soon, Dan Reynolds was rejected for the third time.
“Poor guy,” said Ruby. “That’s rough.”
“He should go into street performance,” said Oscar. “Tourists would pay mad money for those little turtles.” He gestured at a handful of colorful paper turtles that Dan had made, currently making their way slowly, slowly across the field. He blew his kazoo in sympathy.
The next contestant, who called herself Babble, could speak any language instantaneously.
“Cool,” whispered Ruby. “I wish I could do that.”
Oscar leaned forward. “You bleed weaponized crystals.”
“Yeah, but speaking all languages, without having to study them? Think how useful that would be.”
None of the teams took Babble, but after a short discussion, the Council decided to bring her into the Renegade family anyway.
The crowd seemed neither excited nor disappointed. Perhaps they understood the practicality of the decision.
“Okay,” said Oscar, rubbing his hands together, “a good one’s coming up. I can feel it.” He paused, before adding, “By the way, are we hoping to find someone today?”