3.04 – The Kitchen

Leona sat cross-legged on her bed, eyes glued to her computer screen as she scrolled through every scrap of information she could find more about the Sentinels’ Kitchen. Unfortunately, it was a very well-kept secret. Beyond whispers on forums and vague mentions in interviews, there wasn’t much to go on. No leaked footage, no detailed testimonials—just rumors of grueling training and the occasional offhand remark from seasoned heroes about how it had “separated the wheat from the chaff.”

Her SOS card vibrated against her desk, making her jump. She jumped up and snatched it up, activating the display and it came to life.

The Kitchen

Entrant: Aurora

Residence: San Isidro, California

Details: Please clear your schedule for two weeks starting from March 20th - April 3rd.

Pickup Point: Quantumatic Bank Rooftop, San Isidro at 8 AM March 20th.

Arrive ahead of time.

Leona swallowed hard.

It would be next week!

A jolt of excitement coursed through her, followed swiftly by nerves. She clenched the card in her hand. This is it. No turning back now. The opportunity of a lifetime, and she’d just been handed a front-row ticket!

Heart pounding, she bolted out the door, and practically launched herself down the stairs. Rounding the corner into the kitchen at full speed, she skidded to a halt just as the rich, unmistakable scent of Eggplant Parmesan hit her nose. Goonie’s favorite. Unfortunately, not one of hers, but even so, she had to admit—her Goonie could work magic with a vegetarian dish. No matter what she made, it was always warm, filling, and bursting with flavor.

Laguna turned from the oven, wooden spoon in hand, looking mildly startled at Leona’s abrupt entrance. “Something on fire?” she teased.

“Goonie! I got word!” Leona waved her transparent blue ID card like a flag, her excitement bubbling over.

Laguna’s brows lifted before she grinned. “That Kitchen thing?” She glanced around their actual kitchen and let out a laugh. “From one kitchen to another, huh?”

Leona snorted. “More like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

She sucked in a breath, trying to settle her racing heart. “They’ve set an appointment. I need you to let the school know I’ll be gone for two weeks, from March 20th to April 3rd.”

Laguna nodded, wiping her hands on a towel draped over her shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. Hope their kitchen isn’t half as dangerous as mine at Au Naturel.”

Leona’s lips quirked. “Dangerous?” She folded her arms, bracing for the inevitable Goonie wisdom.

Laguna smirked, tossing the wooden spoon into the sink with an exaggerated flourish. “Leona, when you’re dealing with health nuts, free-range activists, and that one guy who tried to pay for his meal with a ‘positive energy exchange,’ you learn that danger comes in many forms.”

Leona burst into laughter. “Sounds terrifying.”

“Terrifying? Please. At least you have a hero’s insurance policy. I just have my wits and a mean skillet.” Laguna wagged a playful finger at her before turning back to the stove. “Anyway, just make sure they won’t have you fighting S-rank villains yet.”

Leona exhaled, finally coming down from her initial high. “I don’t know what’s on the curriculum exactly, but it’s supposed to be intense. This’ll be a huge step toward becoming a better hero.” She hesitated for a beat, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m kinda scared. But I’m also really looking forward to it.”

Laguna glanced over her shoulder, her expression softening. “That’s the best way to go into something new. A little fear keeps you sharp, but don’t let it control you.”

Leona smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, Goonie.”

She took a seat at the kitchen table, resting her card on the surface before tapping her fingers against the wood. “Where’s Quinn?”

Laguna sighed, setting down a steaming dish of Eggplant Parmesan to cool. “She’s making arrangements for an apartment down in Los Angeles.”

Leona blinked. “Already?”

Laguna nodded, her smirk tinged with something bittersweet. “She wants to get a head start. Official move-in date isn’t until late August, but she’s planning to head down in June. Give herself time to establish a rep, case the place…” She trailed off with a knowing look.

Leona snorted. “Sounds like she’s planning a heist.”

“Knowing Quinn?” Laguna chuckled, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Leona leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly. “The house is gonna feel weird without her.”

Laguna’s smile was wistful but firm. “Yeah. It will. But that’s life, baby girl. You’re both growing up. Doesn’t mean she’s gone for good though.”

Leona nodded, but she couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on her chest. Change was coming, and fast.

For now, though, she had her focus set on The Kitchen.

And she had one week to prepare.

Aurora stood at the edge of the Quantumatic Bank skyscraper’s rooftop, her arms crossed, fidgeting ever so slightly. The morning air was crisp, but it barely registered against her skin—her automatic barrier was always subtly active, shielding her from most elements. Still, she could feel the faintest bite of the breeze through the golden glow that hummed around her.

Her eyes flicked to her ID card in her hand. 7:55 AM. She had arrived fifty minutes ago, standing here, waiting.

Her mind wandered. Why here?

Despite the sheer size of San Isidro and Seaside City, the Society of Sentinels didn’t have a major base nearby—no gleaming headquarters like the kind seen in cities like Boston or New York. Just small safe houses, off-the-books meet-ups, and scattered points of interest. So why this rooftop? Did the Midnight Avenger have ties to Quantumatic Bank? Some kind of secret agreement? Or was this just another test?

She sighed, shifting her weight. No sign of an Avenjet swooping in to pick her up. No sign of anything. Was this some kind of joke? Were they seriously going to train a total noob heroine like her? The thought made her pulse spike slightly. Maybe she wasn’t ready. What if this was a mistake? But no… she knew better. The Midnight Avenger wasn’t the kind to entertain pranks. And he had spoken about The Kitchen as if it were sacred ground.

Just as she was debating whether she should start doing some warm-ups to kill time, the air shook.

A deep hum reverberated through her bones, and suddenly the rooftop was bathed in a vibrant green glow. Instantly, she recognized the energy.

Dragonmage.

Before she could react, the light flared—circles of arcane script spiraling outward, forming a portal beneath her feet. Wait—what?!

The air around her warped, the cityscape of San Isidro tearing away in an instant. She barely had time to think, let alone react—and then, without so much as a warning or an invitation—

She was somewhere else.

The light dissipated, and Aurora stumbled slightly as her sandals met solid ground. Blinking rapidly, she took in her surroundings.

A massive open-air plaza with cobblestones stretched out before her, complete with towering neoclassical pillars and a huge fountain in the center. Water cascaded from intricately sculpted figures—angels, dragons, warriors. The entire place felt like it belonged to some ancient order, a hidden training ground where legends were forged.

And standing before her were Dragonmage and the Midnight Avenger.

Dragonmage’s presence was unmistakable—cloaked in deep emerald robes, runes embroidered into the fabric glowing faintly. He radiated a serene, almost academic aura, but the sheer power rolling off him was undeniable. His sharp, intelligent eyes regarded her with quiet amusement.

Midnight Avenger, on the other hand, was as imposing as ever. Clad in his midnight-blue zentai suit, he was almost a shadow given form, with strapped pouches secured at his ankles, wrists, and right thigh. His dull metallic utility belt gleamed under the artificial plaza lights, the clock emblem at its center an ever-present reminder of the man’s meticulous nature. And then, of course, there was his visored mask—deep red, almost black, making it impossible to see his eyes. He stood with the kind of tension only a man constantly prepared for battle could have.

Aurora’s eyes flicked around, noticing more heroes blinking into existence from the fading green light. The teleportation spell had worked on more people than just her.

To her left, two girls materialized together, their silhouettes briefly outlined in Dragonmage’s residual glow. They stood out to Aurora, apparently eschewing a more traditional skin-tight spandex aesthetic.

One of them—a girl with striking purple eyes—was the first to make eye contact. A long barrelled rifle was strapped to her back. The girl wore a delicate utilitarian costume that resembled a black dress. Kind of reminiscent of Black Angel in a way. Her features were a striking blend of European and Japanese ancestry, sharp yet refined, and her long black ponytail with bangs and hime-style haircut framed her face perfectly. Perched on her shoulder was a small, eerily lifelike doll, its porcelain eyes twitching and shifting unnaturally. The girl was probably some kind of a sniper. 

Aurora’s stomach twisted slightly. That doll is alive.

Beside her, a smaller girl stood quietly in a red costume, a domino mask obscuring part of her delicate features. She had flame-shaped decorations woven into her hair, and the way she held herself—arms tucked behind her back, fingers fidgeting—screamed anxiety. But despite her shy demeanor, Aurora could feel the energy radiating from her. What was she? The flame emblems she wore shouted pyromancer.

Another flash—to the right, the fourth arrival.

A tall, powerfully built man in black-and-gray tactical gear adjusted his gloves with sharp, practiced movements. His helmet, marked with a minimalist insignia, obscured most of his face except for a scarred jawline. A pair of bladed tonfas hung at his sides, and something about the way he stood suggested a lifetime of military training.

And lastly, a fifth hero, a woman clad in sleek silver armor with pulsing blue circuitry running along the plates. Her visor flickered to life, scanning the area as she adjusted the mechanical gauntlets covering her forearms. There was something uncanny about the smooth, deliberate way she moved—too precise. Too measured. Enhanced? Was she cybernetic? An android or something else? Aurora wasn’t sure. But whatever her story was, she was clearly dangerous.

The girl with the rifle tilted her head at Dragonmage, unimpressed. “How most unbecoming… It would have been proper to warn us in advance that you were going to hurl us through a portal in such a rough and violent manner, Herr Dragonmage. Warn me you that were going to yank me through a portal?”

The doll on her shoulder suddenly echoed in a high, eerie voice: “Indeed.”

Aurora visibly flinched. Okay. That’s unsettling.

The pyromancer girl didn’t say a word. She just fidgeted, eyes darting nervously between Dragonmage and the Midnight Avenger.

Dragonmage smiled slightly. “It’s part of our new green initiative.”

There was a beat of silence.

Aurora cracked up on the spot.

The sniper raised an eyebrow. “...That was a joke?”

The Midnight Avenger crossed his arms. “Would you have preferred we hired cars to ferry you all here?” His voice was dry, a hint of amusement hidden beneath the gruffness.

The rifle girl exhaled sharply, shifting her weight onto one leg. “A more controlled means of transport would have been certainly appreciated.” Her doll’s head twitched sharply toward the Midnight Avenger. “I must concur.”

The cybernetic woman let out a small hum, her visor flickering as if analyzing everyone present. “Teleportation efficiency: 96.4% accuracy. Acceptable margin of error.”

The tactical fighter beside her simply grunted. “Not my first magic ride.”

The pyromancer girl only nodded timidly.

Aurora folded her arms. “Guess I should be used to this by now.”

Midnight Avenger stepped forward, voice firm. “Enough talk. Line up. Introduce yourselves. You’ll be working together from now on while you’re in the Kitchen.”

Aurora straightened her shoulders, excitement creeping into her expression. As the gathered heroes lined up, she stole a glance at the others, noting their subtle reactions. The sniper girl looked around with mild curiosity, her unsettling doll mimicking her head movements almost perfectly. The pyromancer kept shifting on her feet, gaze flickering between their new surroundings and Midnight Avenger, as if uncertain whether to be awed or anxious. The tactical fighter remained stoic, hands clasped behind his back, while the cybernetic woman scanned the environment, visor flashing with unreadable data.

Aurora cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “May I ask where we are, sir?”

Midnight Avenger stood at ease, his midnight-blue zentai suit giving him an almost spectral presence under the artificial lights of the plaza. The red visor of his mask reflected her gaze as he answered, “The Kitchen.”

Aurora blinked. She'd heard the term before, of course—it was the crucible designed to shape heroes into something more. But now that she was standing here, she needed more context. Seeming to read her mind, the Midnight Avenger continued, “If you’re wondering where specifically, we’re on a plot of land in Japan,” Avenger continued, his voice carrying the weight of finality.

Aurora’s eyebrows lifted slightly. That might explain the two Japanese girls who had arrived alongside her—especially the little pyromancer.

The sniper rolled her shoulders, adjusting the rifle strapped to her back. “That explains a few things.” She nodded towards the towering structures surrounding them. ”Old-world pagoda-style rooftops fused with sleek, modern infrastructure. The contrast is striking.”

The pyromancer beside her spoke up for the first time, her voice soft but clear. “I’ve never been to this Kitchen and I have never heard of it before.”

Midnight Avenger nodded. “Few have. The Kitchen is not on any maps. It exists solely for the training of those who have earned the Society’s attention.” His voice was measured, but there was a weight behind his words.

Aurora glanced around again, taking in the massive plaza more fully. The neoclassical pillars, the sprawling training grounds, the buildings surrounding it, the intricate fountain in the center—it was clear this place had been built for heroes to be pushed beyond their limits. There was a tang of saltwater in the air. Nothing unusual for Aurora. She’d lived next to the ocean her whole life.

Dragonmage, who had been standing silently beside Midnight Avenger, finally spoke, his voice smooth and slightly amused. “This place has been used for generations to train those with extraordinary abilities. And now it’s your turn.”

Aurora exchanged a glance with the others. No turning back now.

 Midnight Avenger let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke again, his red visor shifting over each of them as if measuring their worth. “Before we begin, introductions.” His tone left no room for argument. “You’ll be working together, and you’ll be expected to trust one another. If you can’t handle that, you can leave now.”

No one moved.

“Good,” he said. “We’ll go down the line. Name, where you're from, and a brief explanation of your skillset. We don’t need your life story. Just what you bring to the table.”

He gestured for Aurora to start. She straightened, suddenly aware that all eyes were on her. Even the doll on the sniper’s shoulder turned its tiny head unnervingly toward her.

Aurora cleared her throat. “I’m Aurora, from San Isidro, California. I can fly, project hard-light constructs, and I have a passive energy shield that protects me from damage and am very good for undercover work.” Suddenly Aurora stood in a glamorous red dress and her hair was long and golden with striking blue eyes and her wings missing. “I’m relatively new to hero work, but I’ve had a few run-ins with some metahuman threats and—” she caught herself rambling and stopped short. “That’s me, I guess.”

The girl beside her stepped forward next. She adjusted the straps of her backpack, her red-and-black costume shimmering faintly under the plaza lights. She had brown hair and black eyes. “I’m Akari, from Kyoto,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “My codename is Pyrodancer. Science-based powers. I generate and control fire, and I can adjust the temperature for different effects.” She shifted slightly, her fingers twitching at her sides. “I, uh… I don’t have much field experience yet— I’m sorry.”

Aurora gave her a reassuring nod, but before she could say anything, the sniper spoke up next.

“Asami Hyacinth von Strachwitz,” she said smoothly, her voice carrying a slight German accent beneath the Japanese inflection. Her purple eyes gleamed as she adjusted the massive rifle on her back. “Technically, I am from Germany, but I have spent my life between there and Kyoto.” She reached up, idly adjusting her doll’s tiny dress. “I am specialised in long-range combat and support. Accuracy and precision. My rifle fires both traditional and specialized projectiles.” She smirked slightly, tilting her head. 

Dragonmage raised an eyebrow but said nothing, while Midnight Avenger merely nodded. “Next.”

The tactical fighter, the broad-shouldered man in a matte gray suit with reinforced padding, crossed his arms. “Rook. Former military, now freelance hero. I operate in Tampa, Florida. Close-quarters combat, tactics, and battlefield control. No powers, just training.”

Short and to the point. Aurora could respect that.

The last hero, a tall woman with cybernetic enhancements visible along her arms and neck, offered a small smile. “Call me Apex,” she said. “Originally from Chicago. I’m a technopath—means I can interface with machines, control them, enhance them. My body is augmented, so I’m stronger and faster than the average human.”

Midnight Avenger gave them all a moment to let the introductions settle before speaking again. “Now that you know each other, here’s the deal. The Kitchen isn’t just about training. It’s about proving that you belong with the Society of Sentinels. For the next two weeks, you’ll be tested physically, mentally, and tactically. You will fail. And when you do, you will learn. If you’re not prepared for that, you should walk away now.”

Aurora’s jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. No way was she backing down.

Akari stared for a long moment and turned on her heel and started walking away, but Asami grabbed her sleeve and with a glare, the timid girl turned and fidgeted.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to leave, Akari?” The Midnight Avenger asked.

“.... yes… sir… No.” Akari mumbled.

“I didn’t hear you, hero! Speak up!” The Midnight Avenger barked.

“YES, SIR, NO!” Akari yelled and blushed.

Midnight Avenger nodded approvingly. “Then let’s get started.”