The elevator was going up too fast, but I still had time to think about what Sarah had just ordered me.

A public presence mission. Greet civilians. Take photos. Gain trust. Sell an image. But the part about better rewards, merchandising, and passive income kept going around in my head in a way that was too comfortable to ignore.

If smiling could bring money, then maybe dignity was negotiable under certain conditions.

PIP.

The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor and I entered the training field.

The place was huge, with a high ceiling, machines spread across zones, practice drones floating in marked lanes, moving platforms, and walls with targets that lit up every so often.

It was not like the testing area on the second floor, which felt cold and controlled. The fifth floor had noise, movement, and people actually training.

There were superhumans running, hitting reinforced dummies, jumping between platforms, and checking their smartwatches after each routine. It was the kind of place where you realized that having powers was only the first step to not making a fool of yourself.

Sarah had not given me too many instructions. She only said to look for the person who would accompany me. “You will recognize her quickly” she said. I walked between the zones trying not to get in anyone’s way, while remembering the last time I had seen someone who might fit that description.

A girl with intense blue hair in the elevator. Orange eyes. Earring shaped like a lightning bolt. Support jacket.

Vanessa had dug her nails into my arm just because the girl smiled at me before getting off.

At that moment I thought maybe she had electricity, wind, or something related to speed, but my assumptions were based on an earring and the fact that she was very eye-catching. In other words, scientifically useless.

I found her in the side obstacles zone. It was not difficult. The blue-haired girl was in the middle of a routine, dodging panels that came out of the walls while running on a narrow platform.

Her blue hair was more messy than I remembered, stuck to her forehead from sweat. She was wearing black and blue training clothes, so tight that it made it clear the agency had a complicated relationship with comfort and male concentration.

The t-shirt stuck to her chest from sweat, marking her figure too much, and the training pants made her buttocks stand out every time she changed direction.

I forced myself to look toward the panels because I did not want my first official interaction with her to end with a punch for looking too much.

She jumped over a low bar, turned her body, and landed with an ease that made me feel like a person who had barely learned to run without tripping.

One of the drones shot a burst of compressed air toward her, but the girl moved her hand and the air around her seemed to divert a little.

I was not sure if it had been wind, static electricity, or just my imagination trying to justify her powers. The drone turned off, the platform stopped, and she stood there breathing hard with her hands on her knees.

Then she raised her gaze toward me and smiled.

“You are Oliver, right?” she asked.

“Depends. If Sarah sent you to look for the flame boy, unfortunately yes.”

She let out a short laugh and wiped the sweat from her neck with a towel that was hanging on a nearby bar. “My name is Nora. Sarah said that today it is my turn to prevent you from ruining a public presence.”

“I am glad to know that my reputation is already damaged before we even start.”

“That saves time.”

Nora walked toward me with a calm that was too natural for someone who had just been training.

Up close her orange eyes were more striking. They did not shine like lights, but they had a color that was hard to ignore.

The lightning-shaped earring moved every time she breathed. I also noticed the blue New Kroy jacket hanging on a chair, along with an almost empty water bottle and a small bag with several items that seemed prepared for a public outing.

“Sarah said you are new at this” Nora said while taking her jacket.

“I am new at almost everything. Until recently my biggest work responsibility was not fainting inside a bear costume.”

“That explains a lot.”

Nora put on the jacket but did not close it completely. We walked toward a side exit of the fifth floor while she explained that public presence was not just standing and greeting like an idiot.

There were routes, camera points, zones where civilians could approach, spaces where we should not block the way, and rules about not using powers without authorization.

I listened, although a part of me kept thinking that all of that was too much work for something that did not involve stopping a criminal.

The transfer was quick. An agency van dropped us off in a crowded area of the open New Kroy shopping district, a wide street with stores, advertising screens, food stalls, and too many people walking at the same time.

There were light agency barriers marking a safe area. The place smelled of fried food, expensive perfume, and people in a hurry.

On a nearby screen appeared the New Kroy logo and a public presence notice with invited heroes.

I expected some people to recognize me from yesterday’s videos. And yes, some looked at me twice.

A teenager pointed toward me and said something like “that is the fire one.” A lady asked me if I was the boy from the jewelry store. Two children looked at me with curiosity, but they did not approach. That was all.

It was not bad, but it was also not the wave of attention that my vibrating phone had made me imagine.

On the other hand, Nora had barely put one foot inside the marked area when people started reacting.

“Nora!” shouted a girl from the line of a store.

“Blue Spark!” said a child raising a hand.

Several people approached asking for photos. Nora changed her posture immediately. She smiled, greeted, leaned a little to talk with the children, and raised two fingers to pose without seeming forced.

It was like she had a switch. On the fifth floor she was a sweaty training girl. Here she seemed like someone used to people knowing her name.

I stayed to the side, trying not to look useless.

A small girl approached Nora with a notebook and then looked at me. “Is he also a hero?”

Nora smiled and gave me a soft pat on the arm. “He is learning.”

That hurt a little, although technically it was true.

While she signed the notebook, I looked around. People knew her too well to be just any support agent.

Some called her Nora, others Blue Spark. There was even a woman with a t-shirt that had a small blue lightning bolt printed on it. I stayed looking at that longer than necessary.

Who was this girl inside the agency?

Before I could ask her, a strong murmur started moving through the crowd. The cameras of several phones rose at the same time.

Everyone’s attention went toward the main entrance of the marked area. I turned my head and saw them.

Five Super Heroes had just appeared.

And this time I did not have to guess if they were agents, support, or employees with New Kroy jackets. It was impossible to confuse them.

They wore personalized suits, their own colors, logos on their chests, and that way of walking of people used to everyone looking at them.

For the first time I understood the difference.

They did not seem like agency workers.

They seemed like real heroes.