We were still in the public area of the open New Kroy shopping district, inside the zone marked by the agency’s blue barriers.

Around us there were clothing stores, food shops, advertising screens, and too many people with phones raised.

The five famous heroes were a few meters ahead, surrounded by fans as if each one had their own gravity.

Solaris smiled with that confidence of someone who knew exactly at what angle his face looked best. Prism signed a notebook calmly. Bastion posed with a whole family. Galea talked with a street vendor, and Volt Lance raised his hand while several children shouted his name.

I looked at them without lowering my head. I was not going to pretend there was no difference between them and me, because there was. They had suits, logos, hero names, and a way of being in front of the public that did not seem learned but practiced until it became natural.

I had a New Kroy jacket, fire in my hands, thousands of new followers, and still too many people calling me “flame boy” because they did not remember my name.

That did not make me useless. It only meant I was still at the bottom of a ladder that seemed quite profitable.

“You are too stiff” Nora said beside me.

I looked at her sideways. “I thought the idea was to look confident.”

“Confident, yes. Like a museum statue, no.”

Nora approached without asking permission and adjusted my jacket with both hands. First she pulled a little on the collar, then smoothed the chest part, and then placed a hand on my shoulder to turn me slightly toward where the civilians’ cameras were.

She was close enough that I could notice the smell of clean sweat mixed with soft perfume. Her blue hair was still a bit messy from the training earlier, and even though she was wearing the agency jacket on top, the tight clothes underneath made it clear that the fifth floor had not been decoration.

Nora did not seem uncomfortable with the closeness. On the contrary, she seemed to be enjoying my attempt to maintain a professional expression.

“Do not look directly at all the phones” she said. “Look at the people. If you look at the cameras you seem desperate for attention.”

“But attention brings money.”

“Yes, but looking desperate lowers the price.”

That made too much sense to ignore.

Nora put two fingers under my chin and lifted my face a little. “Smile less like you just received a bank transfer and more like you know what you are doing.”

“I always know what I am doing.”

“Flame boy.”

“I am learning how to know.”

She let out a short laugh and then took a step back. “Better.”

A small group approached the barrier. There were two young girls, a boy with a red cap, and a man who looked like the tired father of everyone. One of the girls pointed at me with her phone.

“Are you the fire one from yesterday?”

“I am Oliver Clarke” I said, trying to sound firm and not like someone who was still hoping people would leave with Solaris.

“Can you make fire for a video?”

The question came too fast. Before I could answer with a dry “no,” Nora looked at me sideways. She did not say anything, but that look was enough to remember the lesson.

Do not look bad. Do not sound unfriendly. Do not make fire just because someone wanted content.

“Right now I cannot do demonstrations in the middle of the public area” I said with a controlled smile. “But if you check New Kroy’s official channels, they will probably upload something safe soon.”

The girl made a disappointed face, but she was not annoyed.

“Then a photo?”

“That I can do.”

I took the photo with them and with the boy in the red cap. The boy did not say anything at first. He just looked at my hands as if he expected flames to come out of my fingers by accident.

“Were you scared fighting those guys?” he asked.

“A little” I answered. “But being scared does not mean staying still.”

The father looked at me with a strange expression, as if that answer had pleased him more than he expected. The photo ended and the group walked away.

It was not a big heroic moment. No one shouted my name or asked me to sign a t-shirt, but it felt useful. That was new.

During the next hour everything was a strange mix of greetings, photos, questions, and people confusing me with names that were not mine.

One called me “Fire Kid.” Another said “the boy from the jewelry store.” A lady asked me if it was true that Corvus Night was in love with me.

There I almost lost my professional smile, but Nora saved me by taking a step forward.

“Social media rumors” she said naturally. “Today we are here to talk about citizen safety.”

The lady accepted that answer way too fast, which was good because I did not have a response that would not make my life worse.

The problem came when Solaris and Bastion announced a quick poster signing. It was not directly their fault.

They just raised their hand, the assistants opened a side table, and the crowd decided that the best way to approach was pushing as if the floor was about to end.

A child got trapped between two adults, a vendor almost lost a tray of drinks, and one of the blue barriers started moving from the pressure.

Nora changed her expression immediately. She was no longer the girl teaching me how to pose. She was Blue Spark working.

“Oliver, left side. No high fire.”

“I was not planning on making a public bonfire.”

“Good. Then prove that you learned.”

I moved toward the left side of the marked area. I did not run as if there was a villain, but I advanced fast enough for people to see me.

I raised a hand and let out a low, thin, controlled flame. I did not shoot it at anyone. I passed it along the ground in front of the barrier, forming a visible line of heat that did not burn, but made anyone with common sense avoid crossing it.

“Do not advance this way” I said in a loud voice. “Make space to the right. There are children in the middle.”

Nora did something with her hand and several agency light signals blinked at the same time, marking an exit route.

People hesitated for a second, but it worked. It was not perfect, it was not as elegant as Bastion would have done it, but the pressure dropped.

The trapped child came out toward his mother, the vendor recovered her balance, and the guards were able to move the barrier again.

When I turned off the line of fire, several phones were pointed at me. This time they were not recording a fight. They were recording something much less spectacular, but more useful. Me controlling a situation without burning anyone.

Nora came closer and gave me a light tap with the back of her hand on the arm.

“That was good.”

“Only good?”

“For someone who two days ago was a sweaty bear, pretty good.”

Do secrets spread that fast?

She smiled. “Do not get used to it.”

The rest of the day passed faster. There were more photos, more greetings, and more awkward questions, but I no longer felt like someone completely out of place. I was not Solaris or Bastion, that was clear.

But I was also not a decoration with fire. People were starting to look at me a little more, and this time not only because of the fight video.

When the public presence ended, the afternoon was already falling over the commercial avenue. The screens kept showing the New Kroy logo, the famous heroes left with assistants, and the civilians slowly returned to their shopping.

My watch vibrated.

[Sarah Murphy - Support Mission Coordinator]

[Acceptable performance. You did not burn civilians, you did not argue with fans, and you achieved a positive reaction in public clips. Your image went up a little.]

I smiled and then another message arrived.

[Come early tomorrow. We will review your metrics and your new value for the agency.]

I looked at the screen for a few seconds.

New value.

That sounded like money.

And if I had learned anything today, it was that even smiling could be part of the job if in the end it ended up paying well.