"Sounds like a plan. If she could transfer schools at some point I think we'd appreciate it. Winslow isn't exactly the best school in the city."

Vertigo - Walta - nods her agreement with that statement.

"She'll be able to be transferred to Arcadia High, yes, we have an agreement with the school. It should wait a while, though, so as not to make it suspicious that a new hero appears just as a new student is transferred."

Everything seems to be in order. That was surprisingly smooth and easy. The rest can wait for tomorrow, it's kind of late.

"I will stop bothering you, then. Have a nice evening!"

And away he goes, putting his helmet back on before leaving the house.

"Good night and good luck!"

Her parents un-ground her, and even let her tinker a little - in plain sight of them, of course. It calms her down enough not to be antsy while trying to sleep.

She emails Glam that she's joined the Wards, mostly on her parents' insistence.

She's excited and eager for the trip to the new headquarters the next day.

Oh, good luck! Tell me how it goes.

It was either join the wards or grounded until I'm 18, kind of a rock-and-hard-place choice, but I'm sort of relieved and looking forward to it now that my folks got me to actually make the leap.

It's much better for tinkers, yeah. How's stuff with that one fire guy?

Total silence. And now if I ever hear from him again I can just report it and ignore him probably - I'll have parts.

Yeah that's good. Shady character.

I don't know what's keeping you out of the Wards but I'll let you know how they treat me. Might be a good option for you if things change. Who knows?

It's complicated. I'll explain next time we run into each other. But yeah, good luck.

Hey, I'm not prying. Good luck to you too. Bye for now.

Talk to you later!

The Hampson family goes to sleep, all of them thinking about the Wards program.

They schedule her first visit for Saturday morning, and Saturday morning then arrives.

The ground floor of the Protectorate HQ is spacious and pretty, with banners of heroes and statues, a big reception area, a store occupying a quarter of its area, and PRT officers here and there.

Pretty impressive place, actually. Of course, it's designed to be. And of course there's a store.

Her parents go up to a receptionist and say, "We're the Hampsons, here for an appointment at eleven?"

"Ah, yes, welcome. If you'd wait there for a few minutes?" the receptionist asks, gesturing towards a sofa.

They wait. Walta scribbles notes into a little pad of paper, only slightly twitchy.

And after a few minutes: "Hampson family? Would you come with me, please?" says receptionist, walking over to them and gesturing towards the glass elevators.

They follow docilely and quietly.

Receptionist gestures towards elevator. "Second floor, they'll be waiting for you."

(This is clearly the nicest elevator any of them have ever been in. They're almost afraid to touch the walls. Though Walta is actively wondering how the mechanics of it work. Seems like a tinker elevator.)

It is! It's glass and barely feels like it has any acceleration, the ride is so smooth and soundless. They reach the second floor and the doors open, revealing a corridor and a person in a PRT suit. "Hampson family? Please come with me."

"Of course. We- Walta, come on," her dad calls. She stops peering at the buttons. "-Thank you for having us here."