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The second method of transport that Hector tried was a bit more haphazard. It consisted of launching himself into the air with iron platforms and then trying to break his fall instead of his body. He was often unsuccessful. On the plus side, super jumping over buildings was fun as hell, as was improvising ramps and slides and arching platforms to catch himself. It was just that the priorities, of course, were always to avoid endangering bystanders or destroying property, which ended up translating into an abundance of faceplants and pratfalls for Hector.

As he waited for his spine to realign and his arm to start bending the right way again, he let out a heavy groan and annihilated the twisty ramp he’d created for himself on the way down. Perhaps he’d made it a little too twisty. ‘Garovel... I’d really like a new motorcycle now...’

The reaper snorted a laugh.

‘Do I really have to wait until I get a license?’ said Hector.

‘It’s for the best. Just bear with it for now. We’ll find you a new bike soon.’

Hector grumbled and started walking. He’d made the ramp spit him out on the edge of a grassy park, and there were more than a few onlookers for his graceless landing. At least these people didn’t look too scared of him. One kid even gave a big wave and shouted, “Yo, Darksteel!”

Hector smiled inside his helm and returned a more hesitant wave of his own.

Garovel was still up high and didn’t notice, probably looking elsewhere in case of fresh trouble that might have needed their attention. ‘On the bright side, this is really good practice. Maybe you can’t tell, but I’ve seen you improving each day. In fact, I think you should keep traveling like this even after you get a new bike and just have the motorcycle in reserve for long trips.’

‘Ugh...’

‘Trust me. The less reliant you are on technology, the better.’

He knew Garovel had a point. And training wasn’t supposed to be easy, anyway.

Eventually, they made it back home, and Hector was ready to help out the reconstruction crew again, but when he made his way through the dilapidated front gate and up the main path, he spotted a cluster of unfamiliar vehicles.

They were all news vans, he realized. ‘Oh... fuck!’