[ Mission: Find one of Myles Cortez’s bases ]

[ Time limit: 5 days ]

[ Reward: 70 coins ]

[ Penalty: ??? ]

"Ah, fuck."

As much as he wanted to sleep until 10 a.m. again, today, he had to get up for school again.

With a brand new mission, too.

Yawning, he got up, going straight into the bathroom, washing his face, brushing his teeth, and just staring at himself, as if forcing his brain to catch up with reality.

"Myles’ base, huh..."

Scratching the back of his head, he stretched, then shuffled into the kitchen, lazily grabbing a toast and spreading jam over it.

’It definitely used plural form... so he has more than one. Damn, it’s not exactly an advantage.’

Blake checked on Myles’ location daily. Most of the time, actually, almost every day, he was out of the city, doing god knows what.

And that was the problem. He couldn’t exactly rely on Myles’ location to find one of his bases because, most definitely, he was just in some random place committing crimes.

And he couldn’t know what he was doing either, because Myles, UD, wasn’t exactly a headline villain. He barely showed up in the media, and when he did, it was usually because something got destroyed badly.

With the toast hanging from his mouth, Blake stared blankly at the wall, completely stuck.

’At this point, I have to spy on him every day until he gets to a base. However, he can somehow fly, so I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him.’

Getting up, he went back to his room, throwing on his uniform.

Either way, he couldn’t think too much about it now. Later. He’d deal with it later.

Walking to the bus stop at a half-run, his breath was quite uneven, while his bag was bouncing awkwardly against his back. He barely made it, slipping in just before the doors closed.

"Shit..."

He tapped his card quickly and moved down the aisle, scanning for a seat.

And then, of course, there was Myles.

Who also came yesterday to entertain him. Fortunately enough, it wasn’t all studying, rather, they mostly played and talked.

Blake slid into the seat next to him, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling faster than it should’ve.

’God, my stamina is shit...’

Myles glanced at him from the side, calm as ever.

"You shouldn’t rush like that," he said flatly. "Just wake up earlier."

Blake scoffed, leaning back against the seat.

"Come on now? What happened to all that pampering, huh?"

Myles didn’t even hesitate.

"From the way you’re talking, it’s obvious you don’t need it anymore."

Blake blinked, then let out a short chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, I can’t deny that."

He stretched his arms slightly, wincing just a bit.

’I’ll work hard today.’

And he meant it.

He had to start immediately, being Asher’s guide wasn’t something he could half-ass, especially after delaying it.

And more importantly, he needed to get closer, learn more and observe!

The bus ride passed quietly after that, the usual low hum of conversation and engine noise filling the space.

When they got to school, Blake stepped off the bus and immediately scanned the entrance.

There they were, Anthony and Asher.

Blake’s expression shifted instantly, a bright smile spreading across his face as he walked up to them, Myles following close behind.

"Yo."

Both of them turned toward him almost immediately.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Anthony asked, brows slightly furrowed.

"Yeah, are you okay now?" Asher added, a bit more hesitant.

Blake waved it off casually, patting both their shoulders.

"I’m fine, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got my buddies checking on me, after all."

Indeed, they didn’t come to his house but, still, they both texted him everyday.

Blake glanced at Asher and gave him a quick wink.

"You ready to finally have me as your guide? Sorry for starting this late."

Asher let out a shy chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I suppose I’m ready."

"Good."

They walked through the alley together, catching up in person.

At the split, Blake and Myles turned toward their class, while Asher and Anthony headed in the opposite direction.

Blake waved lazily over his shoulder.

"See you."

Back in the classroom, Blake dropped into his usual seat next to Myles.

He leaned back slightly, exhaling.

"...Man."

He didn’t say anything else, but honestly, he slightly missed this.

Staying at home all day, without anyone to talk to, it was pretty boring.

Classes went by relatively smoothly. Blake paid attention, more than usual, surprisingly, but there was a faint heaviness behind his eyes.

That dull kind of tiredness that doesn’t go away, no matter how much you blink.

Still, he pushed through it.

Before long, it was time for PE.

Or, well, PE for everyone else.

Blake had his medic certificate because of his concussion, so instead of participating, he was sitting up in the stands, watching.

Since it was hotter now, they were doing PE outside.

Blake squinted slightly against the sunlight, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

The class was playing soccer.

And, as expected, Myles was... Myles.

Long sleeves. Long pants. Even in this heat.

Though, to be fair, the fabric looked light enough that he probably wasn’t dying from it, that also made no one question it.

Blake watched as Myles moved across the field. He was not aggressively trying to score, but always in the right place supporting and passing, controlling the flow without making it obvious.

His performance was, of course, perfect.

Consistently average in the most precise way possible.

Blake exhaled through his nose.

’Of course.’

The sun was getting to him.

He shifted slightly, feeling a bit dizzy, a faint pressure building behind his eyes.

"Tch. So annoying."

After a while, there was a short break.

The players slowed down, some heading for water, others just collapsing onto the grass.

Myles, however, walked straight toward him.

There was not a single drop of sweat on him, he wasn’t even breathing heavier.

Blake stared at him.

’Jeez, I’m jealous.’

"You look pale." Myles said bluntly.

"Wow, thanks."

Myles tilted his head slightly.

"Do you need to go to the nurse’s office?"

Blake let out a small laugh, waving him off.

"Nah, I’m fine. Just the sun."

Myles didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he sat down next to him.

The field buzzed with noise again, guys messing around, kicking the ball aimlessly, shouting at each other.

Blake leaned back slightly, eyes half-lidded.

Then...

"Hey—"

Someone shouted.

But Blake barely had time to register it.

A ball came flying way too fast, bouncing off one of the metal poles and redirecting straight toward him.

Everything happened in a split second, but Myles moved.

One hand went to the back of Blake’s head, pulling him forward, his face now pressed against his chest.

At the same time, his other hand came up, intercepting the ball, a dull thud following.

For a second, everything just... stopped.

Then, Blake pulled back slightly, eyes wide.

"..Woah—"

He looked up at Myles.

"Are you okay?"

But the words got stuck.

Because Myles looked ice cold.

Not annoyed or surprised, not even slightly shaken.

Just... so cold.

Completely emotionless.

"Myles?"

There was no response.

For a brief moment, Myles’ eyes flicked toward the field.

’Is he going to...’

But then, just a moment after, it was gone, just like that.

His expression returned to normal, like someone flipped a switch.

"I’m fine," he said simply.

Blake blinked.

"...Right."

The ball dropped to the ground beside them.

Someone from the field jogged over, awkwardly laughing.

"Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to—"

Myles didn’t even look at him, he just nudged the ball back with his foot.

"Watch your aim."

He said flatly.

But something about it made the guy stiffen slightly.

"Y-Yeah..."

He quickly retreated.

Blake glanced back at Myles, still trying to process what just happened.

’What the hell was that...?’

He rubbed the back of his head unconsciously.

"Thanks."

Myles sat down again.

"Are you okay?"

"No, well, it’d be weird if I wasn’t. You moved pretty fast."

Blake leaned back again, staring out at the field, but his focus wasn’t there anymore.

’Yeah no, he moved really fast. Didn’t he almost blow his cover?’