The atmosphere was tense. 

Salt-laden mist hung in the humid air above the pier as the crowd continued to chant their protests. Hastily scribbled signs painted with messages of hate towards Hyperhumans and calls for Pacific Royal Collegiate and University to be shut down were shoved in the faces of the students assembled for the school ferry. Emotions were high on both sides as new and old students alike had to fight to keep the stress of the situation from accidentally setting off their abilities and creating an escalated event.

"Hypes go home!"

"P.R.C.U. is nothing more than an indoctrination camp!"

"Stop funding a private Hype army!"

"Bring back registration! No more Hyperions!"

The Hyperhuman terrorist formerly known as Hyperion had left scars for the Hyperhuman community as a whole that would likely never heal. Public faith in the Bureau of Hyperhuman Equality, Logistics and Protection had all but disappeared following Hyperion's public unmasking as none other than Dr. Jonas Lehrer. It had of course been a ruse, Dr. Lehrer's life and likeness had been stolen by none other than his former colleague and the once head of H.E.L.P., the thought dead, former director Yakob Kowalski.

"No more dead kids!"

"No more Hyperhuman attacks!"

In the wake of this, the Alexandria Foundation seized a foothold in the public's favour. Despite a dodgy reputation in the Western Hyperhuman community, the Alexandria Foundation, its institute and its agents had a nearly flawless reputation with the rest of the world, so much so that their offer was unanimously accepted when they offered to replace H.E.L.P.

"Take back Dundas Island!"

"Hypes have taken enough, time to make them give back!"

The United States was all too happy to unleash the Foundation on the scattered remnants of Hyperion's Children. Despite their leader being gone, the splintered sects of cult-like followers that Kowalski had gathered continued his mission of Hyperhuman Supremacy. With Hyperion and his beliefs intrinsically linked to Pacific Royal, it continued to paint a poor image of the recovering school.

Alyssa Townsend eased her way through the excitable crowd, her brother Oliver watching her back as the pair attempted to move their luggage towards the loading area for the ferry. The redheaded young woman's eyes met a familiar pair belonging to Cassander Charon as they nodded a quiet acknowledgement to one another, fear keeping their voices silent least it incite the protestors further.