After Sarah explained that my image and my powers had to grow at the same time, the next order was quite simple.

Fifth floor. Training with Nora. She did not say “Blue Spark” at first, but the name appeared on the watch screen.

She was a heroine with public presence, experience in civilian control, and enough popularity for people to shout her name in the street.

That meant if she was going to teach me, the best thing was to listen. Besides, after receiving 150 silver coins for a public presence, I was willing to learn almost anything that did not involve wearing a bear costume again.

I went up to the fifth floor and the elevator doors opened in front of the training field. The place was active as always, with drones moving along marked lanes, platforms going up and down, targets lighting up on the walls, and several superhumans training in different zones.

The sound of hits, motors, and soft alarms filled the air without becoming unbearable. I walked following the route on the watch until I reached a side zone marked as control and support training.

There were no dummies to destroy there, only lines painted on the ground, foldable barriers, cones, emergency lights, and fake civilian figures made of resistant material.

Nora was finishing a routine when I arrived. She was running between several obstacles at a clean speed, turning her body to dodge compressed air bursts that came out of small nozzles in the walls.

Her blue hair was stuck to part of her forehead from sweat and her black training clothes with blue lines fitted her body as if the agency had designed that fabric to not leave much to the imagination.

The t-shirt stuck to her chest from the effort and the pants marked her legs and buttocks every time she changed direction.

I am not going to pretend I did not notice. I noticed perfectly.

Nora jumped over a low barrier, placed one hand on the ground, and turned to stand in front of me. She was breathing hard, with her skin shining from sweat, but she smiled as if she had barely warmed up.

“You arrived on time, flame boy.”

“As it should be.”

Nora let out a laugh and took a water bottle. She drank several gulps before pointing at the training zone with her head. “Sarah said you need to learn to use fire without looking like your only solution is to burn the problem.”

“That is an unfair simplification.”

“Is it?”

I stayed quiet for a second.

“A little unfair.”

“Then let us start.” Nora left the bottle aside and walked toward a yellow line painted on the ground. “Your fire draws attention. That can be dangerous, but also useful. Not all fire has to be an attack. You can use it as a signal, limit, distraction, or guide.”

“I already made a line of fire yesterday.”

“Yes, and that is why we are here. You did it well for being improvised. Now you are going to do it on purpose.”

I positioned myself where she indicated. In front of me there were three fake civilian figures and a marked route toward an exit.

The idea was simple: create a low line of fire to guide the civilians without blocking the exit or causing panic. I raised my hand, concentrated the heat from my stomach toward my arm, and let the flame out.

The line appeared fast, too fast. It rose more than necessary and one of the fake figures ended up too close to the heat.

A soft alarm sounded.

[Excessive intensity.]

Nora crossed her arms. “That was a threat with decoration.”

“But the route was clear.”

“It was also clear that you wanted to scare everyone.”

“Details.”

Nora came closer and took my wrist without asking permission. Her hand was warm from the training and her fingers adjusted the angle of my arm.

She stood beside me, too close, with her shoulder brushing mine and her chest almost touching my arm when she leaned her body to look at the line on the ground.

“Do not push the fire as if you were fighting” she said. “Think of it as letting it fall. Low, stable, enough to be seen, not enough for someone to think they are going to die.”

“Do you always teach this close to the student?”

“Only when the student is looking too much at the wrong technique.”

I looked at her sideways.

Nora smiled.

Alright. She had seen me.

I tried again. This time I lowered the intensity, but the line came out cut off and went out halfway through the route. It was not dangerous, but it was not useful either. It looked like a dying flame trying to meet its work schedule.

“Too weak” Nora said.

“You are being demanding.”

“I am avoiding your public brand becoming ‘hero who cannot make a straight line’.”

That was valid motivation.

I tried again. The third one came out better, but still too wide. The fourth was stable for three seconds before rising suddenly.

The fifth almost worked, until I made it advance too fast and blocked part of the exit route. I did not get frustrated. Before I might have felt like I was failing in front of a girl who clearly knew more than me.

Now I only saw the process as an investment. Every bad attempt was a future coin avoiding becoming a legal claim.

Nora changed the exercise. She activated several small drones that started moving like disorganized civilians. My job was to use flashes of fire to draw attention toward a safe direction without touching any of them.

“This works when there is smoke, noise, or too many people” she explained. “A controlled flash can make them look where you want. If you make it big, you scare them. If you make it small, no one notices it. If you do it right, they obey you without thinking too much.”

“That sounds manipulative.”

“Welcome to crowd control.”

The first time the flash was too strong and all the drones stopped as if they had just seen God. The second was so small that none reacted. The third worked with two drones, but the rest kept moving without direction. Nora walked behind me and placed a hand on my back.

“Breathe before you release it. You are not hitting. You are speaking with fire.”

“That sounded more poetic than I expected from you.”

“Do not tell anyone.”

This time I breathed, raised two fingers, and released a brief, clean, controlled flame. The drones changed direction toward the marked route. Not all of them, but most.

Nora smiled. “That.”

“That was actually useful.”

“I told you.”

The last exercise was back to the low line. I stood in the center, extended my hand, and let the fire come out without pushing it hard. The flame touched the ground in a thin, stable line, with enough brightness to be seen from far away. It advanced along the yellow mark and stayed low, without jumping toward the fake figures. The alarm did not sound. The drones moved toward the correct exit.

[Acceptable control.]

I looked at the line of fire until it went out.

“Now yes” I said.

Nora came closer with a towel over her shoulders. “Now you look less dangerous to public property.”

“What a nice compliment.”

“You are welcome.”

My t-shirt was stuck to my body from sweat and my arms felt heavy, but I was satisfied. I had not learned a new attack. I had learned something more useful for working as a hero without turning every situation into a fight.

Then a familiar voice sounded from behind.

“Interesting.”

I turned.

Vanessa was at the entrance of the training zone, with her arms crossed and those gray eyes looking first at Nora, then at me, and then at my soaked t-shirt.

“Why are you sweating so much with Nora?”

Nora smiled as if she had just found a new way to entertain herself.

I took a deep breath.

This was going to be more difficult than controlling the line of fire.