Wes Oakley stood near the center of the common area with both hands in his pockets.
His white hair had black tips that made it look like he had lost a fight with dye and refused to admit it. He wore a green shirt, training shorts, and the relaxed posture of someone who knew his body could outrun most problems.
"Most of you know me already, but I will say it clean for the new lineup. Wes Oakley, twenty two, former track star, one of the fastest sprinters in the country, and before all this I was training for the biggest stage the world had left."
Junjio raised a hand before anyone else could speak.
"How did you keep personal goals during the attacks, because the world sounds like it was falling apart from every history file I have seen."
Wes blinked, caught off guard by the shape of the question.
