The week leading up to the Northwood Unity Tournament was the strangest of Miles's life.
It was stranger than finding out his brain had a co-op mode.
It was stranger than fighting a man who could barbecue a steak with his mind.
It was, by a significant margin, the most normal he had felt in years.
Their training sessions took place in a forgotten, abandoned warehouse that Leo had "acquired" for them.
"Acquired how?" Miles had asked, looking at the surprisingly functional lights and the brand-new security cameras Leo was installing.
Leo, who was busy rewiring a circuit breaker, didn't even look up.
"Let's just say the previous owners, a shell corporation for a certain evil billionaire, had a sudden and tragic case of forgetting to pay their property taxes," he said with a cheerful grin.
"And their digital security was so bad, my toaster probably could have hacked it."
"It was a public service, really."
Miles just stared at him.
"Okay, new rule," he thought to himself.
