Mod Superhero

Chapter 4.19 - Clara 10

Clara set down on the faux streets of the Gray Room and climbed out the back of her suit. Her muscles quivered under the strain and her bodysuit felt soaked through with sweat.

She needed a break from training.

It wasn't just the fact that her body was exhausted. Concentrating on managing her power was mentally taxing, too.

Clara could push her body past the point of discomfort and to the point of collapse, but doing the same to her mind was dangerous.

Her body gave plenty of signs that she was exhausted. If Clara was doing pushups, for example, her skin would grow warm, the muscles in her arms would start to burn. Her breathing would become labored and she'd start to sweat. Finally, her arms would shake with effort before they seized up and finally gave out.

There weren't as many warning signs when it came to mental strain. Using her powers required concentration. Using them safely required absolute, unbroken focus.

Sometimes, it was frustration that Clara noticed first. Today, she was getting sloppy—missing shots with her kinetic blasts and once shattering the corner of a window.

When she was starting out, there were benefits to pushing herself to the point of a meltdown, but now she got more out of training when she balanced on that knife's edge of power and control.

So Clara left her suit behind in the Gray Room. The floor opened up beneath it and it descended into the mysterious workings. Clara walked out of the Gray Room and down the hall, her footsteps echoing softly on the bunker floor.

"TINA, what are Emmett and Dad up to?"

TINA's voice came out of the speakers, seeming to follow Clara as she walked. "Both of them are working on their own research. Dr. Venture is in the biolab. Emmett is working on his fusion rifle in the mechanical wing."

Clara slowed her pace and raised an eyebrow. "What's Dad working on?"

"I am not allowed to say."

Clara groaned, then caught herself. "Sorry, TINA. It's not you. It's Dad. He's always secretive, but it feels like he's been extra secretive lately."

"Would you like me to put you through to him?"

She scoffed a laugh. "No. That's alright. I know better than to interrupt him... Well, maybe ask him when dinner is."

Clara debated with herself while she walked. She definitely wasn't going to bother her father, but Emmett could get just as absorbed in his work. Sometimes she didn't mind—Emmett could work on his thing and Clara could do her own research or read... It was just nice to be close, just to be in the same space.

But right now, she just wanted to be alone and recharge.

So Clara walked to section 001 and to her room in the back row of guest rooms. The door hissed open and shut behind her.

Clara's room was trimmed in black and white. All the fabric was fireproof, and a fine layer of ash covered the entire room. Shelves of art projects lined the walls—metal spheres for doodling, smaller metal blocks for sculpting, wood canvases for burning. Sparring in the Gray Room was only one aspect of her training. Yoga helped with concentration and mind-body connection. Art helped with fine control of her power and with stress relief.

Clara plucked a metal sphere from the wall. She'd doodled patterns of ocean waves across this one, and she turned it over in her hands, feeling the ridges beneath her fingers. The once pristine steel had splotches of black charr, where the metal was tarnished from repeated heating and cooling.