Well that was easier than Peter first anticipated. So he was right on his hunch, about supposing this girl having the skill-set he sought for, but something about the situation seemed too easy. She was too agreeable. He couldn't help but wonder if this girl had her own motives, and maybe she was too interested in his work. What if she wanted it for herself? Or to sell it? God hath no fury like a man whose lost everything he ever put his life into. It would be a sick joke. Months of boot camp? Wasted on his first mission. Years of seeking an answer to his arm? A sudden development of a superpower that made it impossible to recover his missing limb. Re-evaluating his mission statement to help others? A little delinquent of a girl, one of whom he intended to help, steals the work and sells it. He had to avoid that outcome by any means, of course. He nodded Lynn off before she left with her friend Alex. Peter, along with a flock of other students, was herded off into the arena below to play a game. It was a waste of time by Peter's book, and he knows one of these kids would try to take the lead and formulate some kind of half-baked tactical plan. Peter didn't care enough about these games to throw in his two cents - or even rectify any of the plans that would be birthed from this random allotment of students.

When he reached the group of kids that made up Team One, what he founded wasn't too far off from his predictions. Multiple people were pitching in their strategies and one of the girls anointed themselves the leader or tactician, taking control of the situation. Where there is such place for admiration to be found in that, he doubted there she had a solid foundation of reputation and/or respect. Anyways, the plan sounded far too contrived. Too solid. It didn't leave much room for flexibility and assumed the movements of the opposing team and disregarded the potential plans that they themselves had concocted. A good way to disrupt their plans would be to disrupt the standard means of visibility while establishing a form of communication through among the team. Speaking of which, eliminating the standard means of visibility... there seemed to be some implication of the Valjean boy making a desert. Something with sand? If sandstorms could be conjured, okay, but that alone wasn't quite good enough. The whole arena had lights everywhere. The ceiling, inside the bunkers. That means there's an electrical system hooked up.

[i]That means an arm.[/i]

Along with the possible side effect of putting the entire arena out of light. He probably ought to warn somebody, if anything, just so he doesn't ruin their fun. Peter only didn't want to play, not ruin the game for everyone. Peter looked around him and at all the students he towered above. It was funny, how he stood out like a sore thumb. Yet nobody payed him heed. He supposed things like that were common around here. He looked at the boy, who was presumably Jake. He thought about this for a moment. He wanted to warn them, but in doing so, he'd end up having to bring up some sort of compensation for them. Another plan. Ah, well. He'll let these kids duke it out. He'll help. A little.

"Do not worry your illusions, Jake." Peter droned monotonically as he set a heavy hand to rest on his shoulder. He looked at the rest of the students around him. If he had a normal body, he'd sigh in resignation. "I will act on my ini[i]i--iti[/i]ative... I may cut the lights in doing so."

Peter pointed a finger at the girl he had met earlier - Alex. "In that event... Alex glows. Alternative to your plan, anyone else that produces light can join with her. The two march forward. We can form a pincer maneuver. Other offensive-oriented individuals hide in the gloom on both sides. Alex and battle buddy generate a threatening presence and creates priority, and prompts an opposing charge. The flanking units come out and clamp down on them in a surprise attack. Two bodies scout along the edges and keeps their distance, then goes for the target during the Charlie Foxtrot."

Honestly, this plan depended on the opposing forces movements as much as Deborah's. But this plan at least intended to [i]control[/i] opposing movements - and the element of surprise that comes with cutting the lights, whatever their plan might be, [i]his[/i] plan might throw a wrench in it and the first, initial charge of the glowing two should apply enough pressure on them to forget aspects of the plan they had started with. Thusly having to focus on defense.

Peter continued. "If no one else can produce light, then I can join with Alex. When it works, Alex and I can fall back on defense. Jake won't have to put in as much energy."

With a tap of his foot, he let loose a light discharge to count the number of people on the other side. When it stretched along the arena, he noticed something peculiar. On the ceiling, and high on the walls were tiny little lifeforms. Everywhere... he made another discharge with another tap of his foot, a little stronger this time, to easier discern them. They were insectile. They belonged to somebody on the opposing team. The institution wouldn't just let these things nest. They crawled between the light panels, as to not block light and appear suspicious. No one else might have noticed. Peter was still facing upward at the ceiling.

"... If that's what we decide to do, give it a moment. There's a problem that I will be[i]e-eie...[/i] able to take care of before we start... must remove the eyes... my plan will be able to disrupt opposing forces' plans. We apply the pressure on them. Until then we can stay put. Pretend we're on the defense."