A group of misfits huddled in a fancy room under the supervision of an almost-old-man with a dream and resources, what a recipe for a happy disaster.

Each and every individual seemed to be the polar opposite of the other weirdo sitting next to them, but this wild diversity gave this clump of people charm. From a mumbling genius to a hulking brick-head, from a wand-wielding magician to a large rat. Another peculiar individual was a young adult hunched over the edge of the oval table, mechanical arms revealed by a dark grey t-shirt with short sleeves were resting their metallic elbow joints against the wooden surface; the lower half of his face was covered by entwined fingers, the only visible features were the root of his slender nose and a pair of black eyes staring at the reflections on the wooden surface. A light frown indicated the absence of his mind and lack of attention towards the palette of aspiring heroes surrounding him, his thoughts have long trailed off into a distant corner of his skull. Voices around him barely drew his attention, the only obtainable reaction to the louder individuals or towards any motion was a slow blink. He didn't communicate with any of them beforehand, but he didn't avoid them either since he didn't outright isolate himself from the rest of the group; the way he acquitted himself drew very little attention as his smaller frame barely gave away any sign that he was in fact a breathing, living thing. The one fact that betrayed this apparent nonchalance would be his presence at the meeting.

[i]Is this really what I'm looking for?[/i] Akira asked himself numerous times as he paid attention to the figures moving in his peripheral vision. [i]I need strength, I need to gather my wits and improve myself[/i], he continued, his body as still as a statue, [i]but I needed resources too. My arms and feet alone are not enough. Not yet.[/i]

Moving in the apartment his family bought with the money he made abroad was definitely no easy task; he had confirmed his darkest fear, evidenced by their absence and the cleanliness of the place. He had been haunted by the thought that his parents and his grandfather once dwelt there, which forced him to refrain from touching anything unnecessary, just to keep their purity intact; he even refused to sleep in either of the two beds and instead took the couch. He did not want to tarnish the resting place of his parents; he especially kept away from the bed of his grandfather, out of respect. And also because the mattress emanated a combined smell of musky old man and mothballs. There was a wall filled with framed photos, a family shrine in other words, he could yet bring himself to look at; of course he spotted his younger self in some of them with the corner of his eyes, but he never mustered the strength to walk up to the wall and look at them. Of course he wanted to leave immediately and get himself a new place to live in, not only due to the harrowing ambiance the entire apartment gave him, but also because he feared that ASA would come looking for him to recover their "stolen goods", then only weapons he had which he could use to shut down the entire company. After a week or so, no one came searching for him, something he found highly peculiar. 

[i]Are they waiting for me to come back to them[/i], he would ask himself repeatedly, [i]or are they monitoring me to see how these implants work on a different test field? If that's true, I need to find the hypothetical tracking chip, I do feel watched. Well, worry not, I will show you exactly what I'm made of.[/i]

[b]"What if we... fail?"[/b] Cassandra sheepishly asked.

[b]"We're not going to fail-"[/b] began the raptor-like female before a thunderous thud filled the room, the entire table vibrated from the impact.

Polished metal and polished wood can't really produce proper friction, you know. A groaning Akira lifted the face with which he kissed the surface of the table in a rather painful fashion. He held the base of his nose with the tips of his metallic fingers, his expression a heavy wince of displeasure.

"Apologies." He uttered with a nasal tone. He lifted his free hand to wave dismissively, as to not draw attention to his sudden misfortune. "I'm fine, really, carry on."

[i]Grade A first impression, kid.[/i] He scolded himself as he tried to focus his mind away from the stinging pain stemming from the base of his nose and spreading right into the depths of his cortex. [i]Can't say that I don't fit with these people.[/i]