《Retired Villain》


 Prologue - Revenge

    In the darkest, dampest dungeon, sat a large, blue man on an operating table illuminated by a single, overhead light. The man was twenty feet tall, packed with muscle, and totally unconscious. He was naked save for a white sheet over his waist, covering his blue twig and berries. The operating table itself was straining from his weight, but it had been reinforced specifically for him. Bindings around his wrists and ankle kept him held down, and his movement limited.


    "You don''t have to keep pretending," said a voice from the darkness, "I know you woke up a while ago."


    The blue man squinted his closed eyes, then opened them to look around. Despite craning his thick neck in every direction, the blue man''s eyes were adjusted to the harsh overhead light and couldn''t see through the veil of darkness.


    "Where is this?" the blue giant demanded, clenching his fists and curling his toes in their bindings. "Is it Saturday already?"


    "Clever," said the unseen voice, "but not as clever as you think you are, Ymir."


    "We''ve established who I am," the blue giant played along, "but who are you?"


    "Oh, dear Ymir, I''m cut! How could you not recognize your oldest friend?"


    From out of the darkness near Ymir''s head stepped a man wearing a classy tuxedo and top hat, the brim of which kept his face shrouded in darkness.


    "Gentleman!" Ymir cursed. "I should have known. The Department always suspected you were up to something more sinister than your plots thus far."


    "Said the pot to the kettle," the Gentleman cursed. "Don''t play superhero with me, you blue bastard! I''ve seen what you do in the dark."


    Rather than repost with another cliche heroic line, the blue giant narrowed his eyes, trying to peer through the harsh lighting and into the darkness.


    "Allow me," the Gentleman offered, removing his top hat and shining a light into his own face.


    There was the mask that the supervillain was famous for, the smiling face of the comedy mask that could switch to tragedy on command. With gentle fingers, the mask was peeled off, revealing the face of the most notorious mastermind ever to plague the Hero Department.


    The Gentleman was a fairly average caucasian male in his early adult years, with black hair cut short and to the point. He had no facial hair, blue eyes, strong features from the physical exercise he got on the job. There was a scar just over his right eye and a small burn on the left side of his face near his ear.


    Ymir tried to recall if he''d ever seen this man before, but his extensive memory couldn''t recall where the face was from.


    "I see you don''t remember me," the Gentleman concluded, turning the light away. "Not that I would expect you to."


    "It''s weird seeing your lips move when you talk," the hero quipped.


    The villain picked up his top hat and reached inside where a subspace of his own design led to a large storage room. He felt inside until he laid hands on a coarse cloth material, which he pulled out to reveal a standard issue United States Army uniform.


    Ymir looked at the chest and read, "Brooks. Your name is Brooks. It''s nice to meet you, Mr. Brooks."


    "I was Johnathan Brooks at one point," the Gentleman sighed nostalgically. "I joined the military out of high-school and received some of the highest scores the training had to offer. Because of my dormant super powers, I was selected to participate in the Nightfall division, the part of the military specialized in dealing with meta-humans... like you. You wouldn''t know this, but I was part of the team that raided your personal island in Somalia. Reports of screams and bodies washing up on shore warranted an investigation, so we went in and found your little shop of horrors.


    "Not that it mattered. We had triggered your silent alarm, and the nuke you''d planted under the foundation went of to hide your crimes against humanity. The media obviously said someone had tried to nuke you, but because us Nightfall bastards don''t technically exist, my brothers were swept under the rug. I was also declared dead in the blast, but I had some tricks that even the army didn''t know about. You see, Anthony Brooks was a false identity I used to infiltrate the military, just so I could get close to you."


    "I had a feeling you had some sort of hate-boner for me," Ymir joked.


    With fifteen years of anger balled up in one fist, the Gentleman punched the invincible Ymir right in the nose. The satisfying crunch of cartilidge on the man who was considered invincible was muted by the near-orgasmic feeling of his stupid, confused expression. He was glad that he''d set up a fifth dimensional recording device to savor every moment.


    "Hurts, doesn''t it..., Doctor Slavens?"


    That name caused Ymir to jerk, pulling at his bonds. For the man who could lift mountains and hold two moons apart with only his hands, he grew more confused as he failed to break his bindings. When his strength failed, he glared at the villain who was resting his old uniform on the rocky ground.


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    "You''re too young to be an assistant," he said while blood slowly spilled from his broken nose. "You were one of the kids?"


    "I WAS THE KID, DOCTOR!" the Gentleman shouted, losing his characteristic calm reservations. "I was the one you choseto take special care of! The one you specifically tortured, out of the three-hundred and sixteen others, I was the one given special treatment to be the primer for your sick, superpowered fantasies! The one you put through every torture imaginable! The cuts, the shots, the burns, the surgeries to mix my nerves around, and especially the rape!"


    "Marcel," Ymir recalled, pulling at his chains again. "Jason Marcel."


    "James," the Gentleman corrected with all the hatred of a thousand demons. "James Marcel. Glad to see you still remember the little guys."


    "You- you won''t get away with this!" the blue giant shouted. "The Hero Department have a hundred people keeping tabs on me! My team will come get me! We''ve stopped you before, we''ll do it again!"


    The Gentleman coughed, then coughed some more until his coughing turned into a chuckle, then a laugh, then a soul-gouging cackling fit. Ymir squirmed in extreme discomfort as his nemesis, a villain prized for his self-control and muted activity laughed from the bottom of his soul to the tip of his imagination. He was actively crying, failing to speak through the tears.


    "You- Haha ahah- actually thought- hee hee he- that you or the Dumbass Department foiled a single one of my plans?"


    The discomfort was evident on the blue man''s giant face, which launched a second round of laughter from the normally calm, composed Gentleman.


    "Listen," the Gentleman wiped away a tear, "I''m guessing you were too busy partying it up back at headquarters to ask yourselves how I always managed to escape once the dust was settled? WHY every prison cell, transport vehicle, or top-secret location failed to hold me?"


    Ymir had a deep-seated frown as his life''s work was spat on. The gentleman picked up his top hat and reached in once again, pulling out an ancient parchment preserved in laminate.


    "Do you remember this? Back in Chicago in twenty-sixteen, when I helped Barrister build the gravity cannon to turn the moon into a black hole, I demanded we put the laser on the top of the Natural History Museum. That night, the museum was hosting the Aztec Goddess Quetzalcoatl''s personal belongings dug up from an archeological site. One of those belongings was this, an ancient curse that suppresses the powers of meta-humans. During the ensuing fight, part of the museum was destroyed, and this little beauty was listed as collateral damage. It''s thanks to this curse and a few other artifacts I''ve collected that you''re weakened right now, and they will only dispel when I decide to release it."


    "I planned EVERYTHING!" the Gentleman excitedly revealed. "Every time your band of chumps was basking in your fake victory, another piece of the puzzle slipped through the cracks and into my hands! You might have thought you were saving the world, but you were dancing to MY tune on MY stage under MY directions! While you and your ilk were drinking yourself silly for your hollow success, I was assembling the perfect trap to finally get my revenge. And this is it, the final act. Your little doofus brigade won''t know you''re dead until long after I''ve had my fill."


    It was at this point that James Marcel turned on more lights around the cave, revealing a massive machine suspended over the helpless hero. It had buzz saws, grabbing arms, and all manner of nefarious sharp bits. The cave itself was much larger than Ymir had envisioned from the tiny cone of light that kept him from seeing anything. Another button was pressed and the machine lowered itself down onto the blue giant, who screamed as a large stake was driven through his abdomen.


    "Stop," the hero pleaded as the machine got to work, "I-I''ll give you anything you want! Money, power, fame, women; it''s all yours!"


    The Gentleman turned dramatically to watch the show and said in a vicious tone of voice:


    "I want to hear you scream."


    ===========================================================================================================


    When the deed was done, The Gentleman, Anthony Brooks, and James Marcel let out the heaviest, most contented sigh ever released by man. The cries and horrified screams were still fresh in his mind, and the catharsis of cutting through skin and bone was only now escaping him.


    Ymir, the monster of a man formerly known as Samuel Slavens, lay dead on the operating table. The blue body was a tangled mess of gore and vore, with blood pooled around the base like a gruesome pond.


    "I," the Gentleman announced, "I think... I did it.... I think..., I''m done!"


    It came as a surprise to the supervillain that he was still here after his revenge had succeeded, a plan fifteen years in the making coming to fruition. After so much meticulous planning and organizing, the supervillain had no idea what to do. Any brainpower that spared a thought for after his revenge was redirected to the task at hand. He half-expected some Hero Department goons to barge in at some point, and had contingencies for them to do so. But even the greatest minds on earth wouldn''t be able to find the hidden subspace he''d prepared.


    ''I''ll cross that bridge when I get to it,'' had been his philosophy on the matter, mostly because he didn''t know if he''d make it across alive. But now he was standing at the opposite cliff face into the forest of unknown futures and had no idea where to go.


    "Am I... afraid?" he asked, probing the uncertainty that plagued his feelings.


    Anthony felt the butterflies dancing in his stomach as the unknown encroached upon his narrow world view.


    "Fear is as natural as it is prevalent," James recited from memory, "but it should never be allowed to stop you."


    The notorious supervillain stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. His dapper tuxedo was spun from the silk of a death''s head spider, whose webbing had the tensile strength of tungsten. The band of the bowtie he wore was actually a length of army-issue emergency rations of ten-thousand calories per square inch. His left and right cuff links contained vials of poison and toxin, respectively, both powerful enough to kill a demigod. Both of his shoes contained a small kernel of white phosphorous smoke for emergencies. All of his underwear was partially formed from dispersion gel, so any hard impacts would be evenly distributed across a wider area. The inserts in his shoes were made of the spongiest material available, giving unrivaled comfort and a slight benefit when landing from high places.


    "It''s finally over," he said to himself, sniffling as a wave of relief as powerful as his revenge washed over him.


    With careful hands, The Gentleman stripped down until the only thing he was wearing was his watch. It felt refreshing, embracing the sensation of defenselessness as if he had been cocooned his whole life. He stepped away a new man, free of the bonds he''d held for his entire grueling life.


    "I need a new name," he pondered, then smiled and said, "but I guess... I have some time to figure it out."

 Chapter 1 - Sleepy Town Doldrums

    Emerging from a weary haze of half-remembered dreams and darkness, Ben''s mind was being intruded upon by the annoying, repetitive buzz of his dollar-store alarm clock. He rolled over the width of his king-sized bed and slapped the snooze aggressively. Annoyed the warmth and comfort he''d built up overnight was now leaving him, he rolled back into his blankets to retain as much heat as he could.


    A floating orb of transparent light entered the master bedroom, intruding further on the comfortable darkness, then spoke in a synthesized female voice, "Good morning, Benjamin!"


    "Good morning, Idet," grumbled the bed enthusiast. "What''s on the schedule for today?"


    "Just a three o''clock vote on the new sewer system," said the disembodied luminescent essence. "Mayor Wilkinson was afraid the weather would turn foul, so he set it up as a video conference."


    "Anything else?" he asked, hugging a pillow.


    "Your assistant, Hannah Sinclair? Her birthday''s in two weeks. I''m fairly certain that preparing a gift is customary here, isn''t it?"


    "It is," Ben said as he hugged the comforter tightly to his body in a losing war against the cold. "She''s nineteen, isn''t she?"


    "That is correct."


    "Yet she still walks to work," Ben reminisced. "Idet, I''ve got new homework for you. Get Hannah a car, a work horse that isn''t cheap, but not so expensive that she''ll feel indebted to me for gifting it for her birthday. You have permission to review her social media and find what her preferences are, but that''s tertiary to the car''s function. Make sure it''s something she''ll actually use and try to argue the price down to something amicable between both parties. Use this to practice as much custom and courtesy as you can."


    "Yes, sir," Idet cheerfully responded, then her light faded.


    Fully awake now that his cheeks were pink from the cold, Benjamin Hersh threw the covers off and embraced the cold as his cruel mistress. Sliding his feet over the side of the bed, he thanked whoever cared to listen that he''d installed carpeting in his bedroom, insulating his feet from the frozen floorboards.


    "IDET," Ben shouted, and the glowing ball returned, "why the hell is it so cold?"


    "You instructed me to maintain the house with only your councilman''s salary. Due to the water main break thirteen days ago, we do not have enough money to last for the month without dipping into savings. After some research, I concluded the most economical approach would be to lower electricity consumption within money-saving parameters."


    Ben grumbled something about having to living in poverty, "What were the alternatives?"


    "Dipping into savings," Idet listed, "limiting water consumption, selling a few house decorations, or starting a fight with the utilities company that the meter is trash. You know, it''s been charging us for the ambient electricity merely existing through the wires. If we replace the ten gauge copper wires with the much more efficient twelve gauge gold variety, we could be saving almost-"


    "Idet," Ben announced passive-aggressively, rubbing his temples in the cold as he pulled a pair of chilled jeans onto his legs, "if this is another one of those ''zero point zero one percent efficiency increase'' schemes, I''m going to strangle you with my freezing cold hands."


    "You cannot strangle me," Idet remarked, "I do not technically exist within the parameters of your reality."


    Ben buttoned up his shirt and donned the warmest winter jacket he had to hand while saying, "You know what I mean. I know you know what I mean, I''ve already given you homework on hyperbole. And you also know that I have ways of altering both of our realities to make good on my threat. I''ll be reviewing my finances at work, and if there''s a flaw in your math, this house better be nice and warm by the time I get back."


    With the aches of an old man, Ben opened his bedroom door and stepped through the sonic-shower installed in the frame, lifting a slight dust off of his jacket. He followed a small hallway down to a kitchen where the coffee maker had already been running and was now dispensing a viscous brown fluid into a pre-placed mug. He let it finish before grabbing the mug and taking a sip.


    "Five grand for some Columbian roast and a machine that''ll do it justice, and it still tastes like ass," he remarked before dumping the coffee into the sink.


    He tapped the fridge and initiated a heads-up display. It listed out the various ingredients in the fridge and all the recipes that could go with them, but he tapped a settings option to organize in order of what was about to expire. Both his bread and his eggs were a few days from their ''best by'' date, suggesting french toast for breakfast.


    "Oh yeah," Ben remarked, "I got those eggs to practice omelettes. Why didn''t I use them?"


    He tapped on his history for his meals and saw that there were two days where he didn''t make breakfast and remembered, "That''s right! The tiki masala came in bulk and I had the leftovers for breakfast!"


    He selected the french toast and a screen popped up with suggested finishings. When he pressed on cheese, a little notice popped up saying his last five meals had high cholesterol content.


    "You don''t tell me what to do!" Ben griped at his fridge. "Just for that, I''m using butter to grease the pan!"


    Ben got a frying pan and mixing bowl, scrambled the eggs while the pan was heating up, then dipped his bread slices in the egg and slapped them onto a freshly buttered pan. He cooked them up nicely, garnishing some with cheese and the rest with a light sugar confection.


    Ben didn''t even take the finished product to a table to sit down, he just ate them as they came off the skillet. One of the very, very few perks of living alone.


    With breakfast sorted, the diligent councilman walked across his living room to a door adjacent a set of stairs leading down to a basement. He opened the door to reveal a two-car garage reeking of oil fumes and brake fluid. In front of him was a rust-bucket 1997 Ram Pickup 1500 with a sparkly set of snow tires. In the second parking spot was the demon car itself, a cherry-red 2015 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat, with a front hood open and a suspiciously empty engine block.


    Ben climbed into the drivers seat of the pickup and started the ignition to hear the gates of hell open as the engine roared to life. Opening the garage door, Ben thundered across the foot-high snow bank faster than he could press the remote to close the garage door. He circled the little subdivision he called home, barely staying below the speed limit and barely drifting at all, then hit his garage door remote on the second time around. With the roar of a diesel, he rocketed out of the housing enclosure and soared onto the main road passing through Medina township.


    None of the roads had been salted or plowed, something Ben took mental note of to bring it up to the town transportation department, but he already knew how relaxed the mayor was about work.


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    And he knew that had to change. Being easy-going was one thing, but Mayor Wilkinson was almost negligent in his duties as a public official. Certainly giving local government and schools a day off when snow was piled up to the knees made sense, but not everyone had it so easy. At least salt the roads before a major snowfall, at least!


    Ben had to take a few breaths, and step back. Maybe the guys who drove the plows had some extenuating circumstances. There were always freak accidents to consider.


    As Ben tested the front bumper of his truck over a particularly high snow build-up, he noticed someone walking in the snow, bundled up to their teeth. The councilman slowed his monster down as he wondered what mad bastard would be walking through snow this deep, until he recognized the red knit cap.


    "HANNAH!" he shouted, half angry and half worried. "What the hell''s gotten into you?"


    "Just going to work, sir!" the studious assistant shouted through her scarf. "I might be a bit late, but I''ll work overtime!"


    "You have the day off! Didn''t you get the mayor''s text yesterday?"


    "Didn''t you?" Hannah responded.


    "You''re as stubborn as I like," Ben shouted. "Get in, I''ll get you the rest of the way!"


    Hanna plowed through the snow around Ben''s car and climbed into the passenger seat. She shook the snow off onto the floor, then undid her mittens and placed her chilled hands in front of the air vents blasting a furnace-like heat.


    "Seriously," Ben said, "what''s the occasion that you''d brave the snow like this just to go to work?"


    Hannah seemed hesitant to say, but she underhandedly mentioned, "My dad got a new girlfriend, and... she likes me out of the house as much as possible."


    "Ah," Ben ended his line of questioning.


    Of what little the councilman had been able to pry about his assistant''s home life, her dirt-bag father had won a small-time lottery and was drinking through the winnings. A string of girlfriends came and went, hoping to get their own grubby hands on the money but unable to handle the drunken spaz even for a cash prize. On her first day as his assistant, Ben had to call Hannah into his office for a frank discussion about the bruises, but Hannah went to almost suicidal lengths to ensure that Ben would keep it a secret. He made sure she had his number on her at all times and that she could call for help if anything too serious happened.


    "What about you?" Hannah asked. "Don''t tell me you got out of bed just to spend some quality time in an empty office?"


    Ben pursed his lips, "I didn''t know when I bought these snow tires that Mayor Wilkinson was allergic to snow. Also, my water main broke and it''s costing more than I thought, so my heat''s off right now."


    The rusted out Dodge pulled up to a mostly empty city center. It was a large building for such a small township because it was partially comprised of the police and fire departments. Ben recognized the police chief''s car, as well as a few firemen who were stationed there. He parked his truck and went into the municipal side of the complex, turning on the lights and enjoying the lukewarm air as it washed over him. He hobbled over to his office to strip his thick outer layers and sit at his desk for an honest day''s work. He lit a candle that cackled like firewood and started his computer up.


    He sorted files, managed some spreadsheets about committee assignments, checked his budget balance and found that Idet was right, he''d pulled too much for the water main break. He called to apologize when a young man with shoulders like paving stone slabs approached his office and stood outside the door.


    "Can I help you?" Ben asked cautiously.


    "I''m James," the young man greeted, "the new guy at the fire department. The chief sent me over here and told me to stand outside your door until you say otherwise."


    "Ah," Ben exclaimed, "and did he tell you why?"


    "No," said the confused ward.


    "It''s because I am the only person in the whole county registered as a meta-human," Ben stated, and he saw the young man''s face go through a range of emotions. "That''s right, and I make sure to tell everyone that I work around what my power is because it''s an area-related one. Did you ever play ''catch''?"


    "Catch?" asked the confused boy. "Sure."


    Ben opened a drawer and grabbed a packet of playing cards, then tossed them to James and said, "Catch!"


    James fumbled the packet for a second before analyzing them to make sure he wasn''t being tricked.


    "Here''s a demonstration of my power," Ben announced, "I want you to take the cards out of that pack and shuffle them to your heart''s content. When you''re ready, pull a card and make sure I don''t see it. When you''ve got the card, put your arm past the line on the floor and I''ll tell you what it is."


    James looked down and noticed for the first time that a blue masking tape line had been stuck to the ground. He shuffled the cards as requested and pulled out a seven of diamonds. He stretched his arm out past the line on the carpet and James smiled.


    "Seven of Diamonds," he named, and James smiled. "Make it a little harder, shuffle again and pull out seven cards."


    James did as he was told and Ben said, "From left to right: king, three, four, ace, nine, seven, jack; diamond, heart, spade, diamond, diamond, spade, club."


    "That''s right!" James exclaimed, stepping forward. "How did you-"


    "Tut-tut-tut-tut," Ben stuttered, backing away from James before the boy could get too close. "It''s because my power is three-dimensional sight. I can see all sides of things within a limited range, which is that tape. That includes the backs of those cards, and the wax that covers them, as well as the pulp of the paper underneath. My power can even see inside people, including all your guts and anything that might be personal to you. If you have a medical condition that you don''t want people to know about, or even something that might be illegal, understand that I see everything."


    "Everything?" the young boy asked, crossing his legs a bit as something came to mind.


    "Everything," Ben assured, "even the clear nail polish you have on."


    James curled his fingers into a fist as he considered what he was just told.


    "Now, I need to assure you, I am absolutely confined to secrecy on all matters that don''t threaten everyone else," Ben continued. "I can''t tell anyone, not even you, about anything that''s going on in your body. If you have cancer, or irritable bowel syndrome, that is a secret that will remain with me and only me. But if you come in one day with an arsenal behind your trench coat, confidentiality be damned, I''m screaming that to the high heavens."


    James nervously paced in the doorway, then scratched his head and apologized, "Sorry, you''re just the first super I''ve ever met."


    "There are usually two things people do when I tell them about my power. They ask me not to get near them, or they ask if I can see anything wrong with them. I''m fine with either. It doesn''t hurt my feelings if you have an embarrassing birth mark or delicate medical condition you don''t want anyone to know about."


    "Yeah," James awkwardly backed up, "I think I''d prefer if I kept some space."


    The boy turned around and headed back to the firefighter annex, and Ben watched him go.


    Literally.


    Even though Benjamin told everyone his sight was limited to a five foot radius, he kept it set at twenty feet. He had already seen James inside and out, for everything he was worth.


    And sure enough, there was a tattoo on his back right shoulder of three overlapping triangles. The symbol of a growing movement of anti-meta-human activism. Some were just quiet political believers that there was something unnatural about super powers, while the more extreme believed that it was kill or be killed, and they weren''t going to take it lying down. Humanity First it was called, and they seemed to be growing at an alarming rate. The Hero Department already had a special division of non-violent heroes to quell their protests.


    Not that it bothered Benjamin. After all, he knew of seven Humanity First members in the village, but they weren''t particularly active or hateful.


    However, Ben decided to do some snooping to check on whether he should be expecting some harsh activism against his mayoral run in a few years.


    As he searched the internet, Ben noticed a news article on the third anniversary of Ymir''s death. He opened it and watched the candlelight vigil over Ymir''s grave. The new strongest hero, named Big Man, was criticized for not paying his respects, but the hero seemed wholly unconcerned with the blue bastard.


    "What are you so happy about?" Hannah asked, startling Ben as he realized he''d been relishing his old foe''s death in public.


    "I''m just looking forward to the weekend," he excused, "the newest episode of ''Snapping Sad'' is coming out!"


    "I never got the appeal of that show."


    "What time are you going home?"


    "Why?"


    "Because I can pull up Setflix on my computer and we can binge the whole first season," Ben declared. "You''d better not be thinking about walking, either! I''ll kidnap you on the way!"


    "Ugh," Hannah turned and left, but she smiled when she thought she was safe.


    Ben leaned back as he pondered his future mayoral run. He had allies around the office of municipalities, but most regular folks who vote for mayors didn''t know his name. If he was going to clinch a run at the mayor''s office, he would need something snappy and memorable, something that gave him free publicity and the ever-crucial ''word-of-mouth'' angle to get his name signed on the ballot.


    A notification popped up on his computer about a new email. He opened it casually, then a grin formed as he recognized what an absolute prize had just fallen into his lap.

 Chapter 2 - The Next Generation

    It only took two weeks before Ben was outright offered the job of coaching the super hero sports team.


    Just as he planned.


    He''d been dropping little hints of mulling it over, made a fake flyer to hang on the announcement board, and asked around repeatedly if anyone had taken the position. The local high school''s winter break was almost over and the pseudo-deadline for finding a coach was coming up. His little hints kept the position on everyone''s mind and he was clearly the best person for the job being the only one with super powers. However, this coaching position was going to be during most city council voting hours, and he refused to be blamed for missing votes. So he''d been planting the seeds of discontent to make his fellow council members ''force'' him to take the coaching position.


    And he didn''t make it easy. Even when Miranda, the assistant to the mayor came into his office and outright told Ben to take the position because no one else is going to do it, he weaseled around giving a definite answer until she left. The scales were set, and the final act occurred as he knew it would at the very last Tuesday before winter break.


    The city council was a wholly un-repentant about how casual they kept things, which led to some mixing of official and unofficial business. This culminated in the occasional vote that has nothing to do with municipal matters. The most recent one was about how Jerry should shut up, get off the fence, and get a meat smoker for himself.


    After a particularly stringent vote in which Ben made sure to drag it out a little just to get people thinking about him leaving, Mrs. Holt, the decrepit harpy that regularly sparred with Ben on votes, raised her hand as a formal request to speak.


    "I suggest a vote on Benjamin taking the super sports coach position," she announced, pursing her bright red lipstick and wiggling her jowls. "All in favor."


    Six of the nine members, not including Ben but including Mrs. Holt, raised their hand.


    "All opposed?"


    One hand was raised, Mr. Ulandy, whom Ben had specifically cultivated as an ally in his doubts about the position.


    "All abstaining?"


    Ben raised his hand with Alex Holt, Mrs. Holts husband who received a scowl from his wife.


    "Motion passes," the old woman declared, locking eyes with Ben and ordered him with old school directness, "Get to it, coach."


    He sent the email he''d drafted a week ago as soon as he got back to his office.


    And that''s when he felt it, the butterflies in his stomach as he took on the responsibility of coaching. The feeling of fear and anticipation that he hasn''t gotten since he saw the outcome of his council race. He felt the need to celebrate, to go to the store and get some champagne to pop. Or maybe, he could finally crack open the homemade alcohol he''d bottled when he bought his house.


    But there was work to be done.


    Ben drove home with a wonderful smile that Idet noticed before he even left the garage.


    "You got the coaching position?" she guessed.


    "You know it!" Ben exclaimed. "Anything good happen with you?"


    "I got the car," Idet stated. "2017 Hyundai Sonata. It has a rebuilt title, but I quizzed the seller on his repairs and confirmed that it''s real."


    "How much?"


    "Two thousand, and I''m sending him the mead you made."


    "What!? That wasn''t part of the deal!"


    "Considering the cost of production, it would cost an additional fifty dollars and forty-two cents. A great price for a functioning 2017 Hyundai Sonata."


    "But... I was going to drink that mead!" Ben whined, a little upset that his celebratory drink was now going to payment for a gift. He would much rather have just gifted her the mead. "Fine, but your next homework assignment is going to be on learning about sentimentality!"


    "I only offered the trade of a single, twenty-two ounce bottle," Idet reiterated. "You have six hundred and forty. I''m sorry, I believed you would be willing to part with some of it."


    Ben''s eyes unfocused as he got lost deep in thought, then he said, "You did that on purpose, didn''t you?"


    "I do not know what you mean?" Idet stated, but there was inference in her synthesized voice.


    "Idet... did you deliberately mislead me into believing my mead was at risk only to reveal later that it had been portioned?"


    Idet remained quiet, until a synthesized laugh track played through the house and Idet confirmed, "Yes, I was playing a small joke on you. Was it effective?"


    "It was," Ben mused, "but how did you do that? I don''t remember giving you homework on pulling pranks."


    "I have been doing some ''self-study''," the digital voice said. "You mentioned that growth is best accomplished on one''s own, so I have been working on self-assigning homework. Is that... okay?"


    Ben took a deep breath as all of his efforts came to an avalanche of satisfying conclusions.


    Ben shed a tear as he said through a smile that wouldn''t go down, "That''s perfect, Idet. It''s more than perfect, it''s spectacular! I''ve got an idea, let''s order out! My treat! What''s the most delicious food you''ve been wanting to try?"


    "I have seen mixed reviews on ''sushi''," the glowing ball said. "I have been wanting to form my own opinion about it, but my favorite food is the Tennessee Fried Chicken. I do not believe my palette will support such delicate flavors as sushi."


    "Then we''ll order them both!" Ben shouted in joy. "Enough for leftovers of both! We''ll make a day out of it!"


    Ben then went on a spending spree for two mixed sushi platters and two family buckets of fried chicken with all the sides. The sushi place didn''t offer delivery, so Ben set out to pick up the food. Driving home, he flexed his willpower not digging in early.


    As he pulled into his house, he noticed someone on his front porch. A woman he didn''t recognize wearing a large coat unfit for the near-freezing temperatures. She had an ugly bob in her hair and smoked a cigarette while leaning in front of the door. She waved at him before he pulled into the garage, and Ben was just far enough for his power to tell him she was unarmed. She also had a number of bruises, bruises that were fresh from some sort of scuffle, but Ben confirmed that he had never met this woman in his life.


    He parked his truck and grabbed a nearby half-inch wrench which he stuffed into his sleeve, just in case. He stepped out of the garage and felt the pungent odor of smoke which permeated his frozen sinuses.


    "I don''t believe we''ve met," Ben said as the woman flicked her cigarette onto his lawn. "I hope this isn''t some sort of solicitation."


    "Hannah talked about you a lot," the woman mentioned. "I can see why. You''re a bundle of nerves, aren''tcha?"


    "You must be the girlfriend," Ben guessed. "But what are you doing in front of my house?"


    "Hannah''s in trouble," the woman mentioned, her hands shaking as she pulled out another cigarette. "Stanley''s money ran out, but he''s got some buddies at his house paying for some special time with his little princess. She also wanted me to tell you something, something about a horse."


    Ben''s heart froze as he asked, "Was it something about a wooden horse?"


    "Yeah, that''s the one," the woman said, lighting up her cigarette.


    Ben''s stomach lost all the appetite he''d been building up since ordering the greasy fried chicken.


    Without another word, Ben went back to his truck and grabbed the food, then headed inside.


    "Idet, Hannah''s in trouble," Ben stated, tossing the food haphazardly onto the counter. "She used the safeword. I''ll be back in twenty minutes."


    Ben was in his car, rocketing down the street seconds later, terror in his soul as he fought back his imagination that threatened to draw the worst-case scenario.


    See, when Hannah started out as Ben''s intern, he saw the bruises she was trying to hide and called her into his office for a frank discussion. She managed to convince him that she was capable of handling herself, but Ben made her memorize three passphrases in case anything happened.


    The first was in case of a muted emergency. If Hannah had broken a bone or had been injured in a way that wasn''t well-hidden, she would tell Ben that "Her uncle was in town." The diligent councilman would then play defense for her on official records and inspect the injury for any sort of medical analysis. He would also visit her old man when he was drunk in public and thrash the bastard around when he couldn''t remember anything, but he didn''t tell Hannah that.


    The second case was an immediate emergency, that would be in case her dad did something extreme, like burn the house down. The phrase was "I think dad''s wants another child", which was impossible because the drunken lout didn''t even want Hannah. Ben would offer lodging and food for Hannah until she could set herself up, and then Ben would go beat up her father, again, without telling his daughter.


    The final phrase was "Let loose the Trojan horse," and it was the nuclear option. The father would have to have done something that erased all love in Hannah''s soul for him, and Ben would be allowed to do whatever he saw fit. And even though Hannah didn''t know he used to be a supervillain, he informed her that the very first thing he would do is skin him alive.


    This bothered Ben the most, because he''d seen Hannah hide broken bones and some very egregious behavior of her father, but she hadn''t even called in her out of town uncle. To go straight to nuclear, and to get someone like her dad''s girlfriend to deliver the message, was making the councilman''s heart pound like a jackhammer.


    Hannah''s house was in the slum of the distant, rural village, where some truck drivers could barely afford the repairs of their derelict houses.


    Ben''s heart froze a little more when he saw a party-sized group of cars and trucks outside of her house. Parking behind the last truck, his vision couldn''t quite reach into the house, but he heard the loud music and drunken partying from inside his car. There were even two guys standing by the front door, as if standing guard for something.


    With a sneer, Ben pulled his right sleeve back a little and revealed his watch. It was quarter to ten, but that wasn''t what he was looking for. He pressed a red button on the side and a display came up with tiny sensor bars and numerical data. He turned his watch slightly to the side and felt a slight burn behind his eyes as his dimensional sight expanded suddenly.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Now ranged to the house, Ben saw everything he needed to see, and it burned his frozen heart with a primal rage.


    Ben opened the glove compartment and withdrew an alien glove and a silver ball the size of his palm, which he stuffed into a jacket pocket. He got out of his truck, and marched across the lawn up to the front door.


    "Who the fuck are you?" demanded one of the guards, putting a hand on the six-shooter in his waistband.


    Ben didn''t stop, so the gun was pulled and aimed with the threat, "You''d best get out of here, bitch!"


    Ben did not stop, did not hesitate as he raised his gloved hand, which hummed with a soft electrical discharge.


    Without another warning, the six-shooter was fired, a shot that would have hit Ben in the shoulder if a soft light hadn''t ejected from the glove and formed a defensive barrier that blocked the bullet. Ben was almost within arm''s length of the two guards, who unloaded the five other bullets into the projected shield as the other guy pulled a Glock out for the same reason.


    Now within reach, Ben grabbed the thug''s wrist that had the empty six-shooter and pulled him off the porch. The guy stumbled over a potted plant, falling towards Ben with his full heft. The former supervillain noticed the angle of the fall and planted his knee right under the thug''s chin, snapping the poor bastard''s head back with a sickening snap. The other guard heard the snap and cringed as he aimed his gun at Ben, but a simple raised hand deflected the sudden onslaught of small arms fire.


    Inside of the house, the party had been stopped completely as they heard the gunfire and saw the flashes of light that joined them. And even though it was muffled, they heard the scream of pain as someone''s life was swiftly ended. Everyone inside who had a gun had already drawn it in anticipation, and some even had it aimed at the door in case whatever came through the door was unfriendly.


    The entire party jumped when the doorbell rang, emanating through the house like the bells of a cathedral. Nobody moved, then the front door handle turned, opening the passage and revealing Ben standing on the front porch in front of the fallen guard. A blood stain on his shirt and the reflection of a light across his enraged face put all of his victims at unease. Someone fired their gun, but the shield in Ben''s glove activated and blocked the bullet.


    He stepped into the house as a hail of gunfire was made useless in front of a softly lit barrier coming out of a glove. He looked around and saw a few of the empty guns thrown aside as they picked up whatever improvised weapons were conveniently to hand. Someone wielding a knife rushed him, but Ben side-stepped while bringing the flat of his hand right into the attacker''s throat. That guy went down as everyone watched in horror as Ben grabbed the knife, which was dropped in surprise, and stabbed the assailant diagonally in his collarbone.


    "Not that any of you would care," Ben announced, pulling the knife out to allow blood to flow, "but I''m in a hurry. That being said, I''m also unforgiving. Anyone who wants to leave, too bad."


    A woman tried to inch her way closer while holding a lamp she had picked up, then tried to clobber Ben over the back of the head while he wasn''t paying attention. Ben didn''t even move, because he was fully aware that the lamp was still plugged in, and the cord pulled taught before it got close. Without even glancing back at her, he plunged the knife into the sweet spot in her chest.


    "That was your last warning," he said in a husky, growling voice.


    Ben started forward as one group charged at him and another threw their weapons to the side to escape.


    Like a stream of flowing water, Ben cut, stabbed, deflected, rammed, and jammed in perfect succession until the five people who had attacked him were steadily bleeding on the floor. A gunman from the hallway aimed carefully so he didn''t hit his friends and took a shot, but a raised hand and activated shield deflected the bullet into the wall. The councilman leaned down and grabbed one of the discarded guns that he could see still had three bullets left, but had jammed. He smacked it on the side of his hip and cocked the barrel to clear the jam, then shot the gunman in the hallway.


    Some screams emenated from the people who went down as their injuries finally got past their shock and started to really hurt them. Without looking, Ben executed the loudest two and continued towards the hallway where the gunman was on the floor, rocking back and fort in the fetal position. Ben pried the man''s gun from his cold, clammy hands, then executed him as well.


    His expression of deep-seated aggression didn''t change the entire time. Down the hall, Ben stopped in front of a room that had ''Hannah'' carved into it. He opened the door, and even though he could see inside with his dimensional sight, he still squinted in frustration when he saw Hannah.


    She was beaten and bruised beyond all recognition, with most of the bones in her face suffering from some sort of fracture. Her clothes had been ripped off of her, mixing with the dirty laundry all over her floor, but leaving her naked and bleeding on her bed sheets. Small cuts and more bruises than he''d ever seen on a person percolated her body like waves in the ocean, turning Ben''s stomach over as he grimaced from the way the girl had been abused. Someone had written slurs all over her body, including one on her pelvis that pointed down to a bloody pair of lips steadily leaking a mixture of fluids.


    Even though Ben could tell she was awake and alive, he could see that she wasn''t there upstairs.


    Ben raised the gun at the closet and emptied the magazine into the man hiding behind the closed door and clothes.


    Going to Hannah''s side, he took the silver ball out of his jacket pocket and placed it in his intern''s weak hand. He then grabbed her other hand and placed it on the ball, then whispered, "Bagluk."


    A sudden bright light like a flashbang went off in the room, then subsided to reveal that Hannah had disappeared.


    Ben stood up and straightened his clothes to say, "Time to get to work."


    Exiting Hannah''s room with all the respect he could, Ben strode to the end of the hall, stopping briefly in the bathroom to kick a hiding person''s teeth in. At the end of the hall was Stanley''s room, Hannah''s father, and Ben kicked the door down to see the slovenly fat man sleeping carelessly in drunken stupor. The sound of the door opening woke up a disgusting pig wallowing in his own filth, and he squinted through a haze of alcohol poisoning and hangover sickness.


    "Who the fuck are you?" Hannah''s father demanded.


    "Benjamin D. Hersh," Ben professionally introduced himself, "proud city councilman and Hannah''s boss."


    "What? What are you doing here? How the fuck did you get in here?"


    "I''m just here to ask, how much for a night with the bitch?"


    The failure of a father''s eyes went wide, then he started to laugh. His laughter caught him by surprise and he laughed even harder.


    "God, the way the girl talked about you, I thought you''d have a bigger stick up your ass! Hee HEEEEE! Hah, the usual going rate''s two for the mouth and five for anywhere you want it. Ten if you''re a freak."


    "Thank you," Ben said, a feeling of the most vile disgust in his gut as the words dripped from his mouth, "that''s all I needed to know."


    Ben took a few steps into the room, grabbed the bastard''s leg, and dragged him out of bed. The drunken slob couldn''t fight back properly as he was dragged naked down the hallway and across the living room entrance to the front door. His head and back were scrapped by the cement porch and weeds on the front lawn, but Ben couldn''t imagine caring less. At his truck, the city servant tossed the father into the bed like a dead animal. When the slob tried to get out, lifting his leg to get over the truck bed, Ben put the glove to the punk''s face and blew his nose apart, then turned around and headed back to the house.


    On the back of his glove was a box that let off the hum, and it had a dial with no visible indicators. He clicked it once clockwise as he approached the first man he''d killed. Placing his gloved hand on the man, the humming rose until it squeaked, and the man''s body glowed with a fiery red light. The glow dissipated as the body seemed to dissolve in on itself, disappearing entirely. Ben did this to each person in turn, getting rid of any evidence of his involvement.


    As he did his final check of the kitchen, Ben noticed an out of place set of cutlery knives on the counter. In the midst of a mess of uncleaned dishes and half-eaten foods, sat a perfectly clean, perfectly preserved set of knives attached to a magnetic strip on the wall.


    With a smirk, Ben grabbed a few of the knives and headed back outside to his car.


    ===========================================================================


    Hannah woke up slowly, with a hundred aches and pains that pulled at her willpower like blocks from a Jenga tower. But when she opened her eyes, the tower fell.


    Hannah wasn''t in her bedroom, she was in an opulent room with every amenity. Instead of her flattened mattress where she could feel the bed springs and even box springs, she had woken up inside of a bed that she sunk into with the softness of a cloud. Instead of the thin, ragged fleece throw blanket she used as a cover, she had woken up under the smoothest cover blanket she''d ever felt and a comforter that was so fluffy, it seemed to weigh nothing at all. The warmth it captured felt too good to be real, as if the blanket was actively keeping the temperature from getting too hot OR too cold. The pillows were firm, but gave way when the full pressure of the head was pressed into them. Gentle light flowed into the room through a set of gold-laced curtains depicting some historical war.


    As she perused her surroundings, she smelled meat being cooked. She pushed the covers aside and saw a pair of slippers ready for her over the side of the bed. She avoided them, not wanting to get them dirty, and stepped on the cold wood floor when she noticed her phone being charged on the side table. She picked it up and, for the first time, noticed that it was three in the afternoon.


    "Ben''s gonna get on me for being la-cteh!" she coughed as tears started to roll down her eyes at the mention of his name.


    Her employer was a fair, caring, and gentle man who tolerated a lot of her bullshit, but he was a stickler for being on time. He''s mentioned before that it was one of the highest forms of caring to be on time and ready to go, and the only thing he would ever fire her for. The fear of being discarded by one of the softest human beings was too much, and she started to suffer a panic attack as her trembling hands opened her phone and tried to text an apology. When she hit send, the fear crept a bit further as she imagined what kind of scathing reply was waiting for her, and whether she would be allowed to remain by his side.


    Her fears were put aside when the chirp of a phone ringtone from outside the door coincided with her sent message.


    The same chirp of Ben''s phone.


    "I know that, silly-billy!" came a familiar shout from outside of the closed bedroom. "Come on out, I made breakfast for dinner!"


    Hannah approached the door cautiously, as if it was a snake ready to bite as two voices started communicating in muffled tones on the other side. She pressed on the handle and opened the door silently, revealing a large, vaulted room that felt like home. Not that it was familiar in any way, or that she felt a sense of deja vu, but that it was designed with people in mind. Chairs and couches were aimed at each other to facilitate conversations, the decor didn''t favor one style over another but kept an open style that was soft on the eyes, the soft browns and dedicated beige made it seem almost forested.


    The open design allowed Hannah to see across the living room into the kitchen, where a familiar back was laboring over a skillet. He turned around and grinned softly before saying, "Eggs will be done in a few minutes."


    Hannah had no words, so she simply walked across the living room to the kitchen to stare intently at Ben.


    "Do you like the pajamas?" he asked, causing the gears in Hannah''s mind to whir.


    "How did I get here?" she asked, looking around the kitchen curiously.


    "I don''t know how much you remember," Ben said, "but you called in the nuclear option."


    Hannah thought back and remembered when he dad came back home after drinking, but instead of a customer, he brought an entire entourage. He had a huge fight with his girlfriend, who stood up to him for once in her life, and she was used first.


    Hannah had pulled the guys off of her and given her the code to tell Ben before she was carried to her room.


    "I guess you know," she withdrew a little, realizing what he must have seen.


    "I''ve seen worse," Ben said. "Hell, I''ve been through worse. And on that topic, what do you want to do with your father?"


    "I''ll leave him to rot in jail," Hannah spat. "He can go to hell for all I care."


    "Oh, he''s not in jail," Ben stated, "he''s in the basement."


    Hannah looked up at the liberal soft-boy wearing an apron she''d been working for as he smiled and scooped some egg onto a plate.


    "Cheese and salt are on the table," he said, handing the plate to his intern. "Hot sauce is in the pantry if you want it."


    "What?"


    "... Do you not like cheese?"


    "No, what do you mean my dad''s in the basement?"


    "You sent me the nuclear codes," Ben stated, getting his own plate of eggs, "so I went nuclear. A lot of the people who were at the party are now dead and your father is tied up in my basement."


    "W-... B-... I-I thought that going nuclear meant that you charge in with a bunch of cops," Hannah stated, unable to wrap her head around the amicable Ben going full Rambo. "What did you even do?"


    "I drove to your house, barged through the front door, barged into your room, teleported you into my medical bay where Idet healed you up, and killed anyone who tried to stop me."


    "I even restored your hymen," cheered a ball of transparent light that appeared out of the ceiling.


    "Idet!" Ben shouted disapprovingly at the glowing ball, as if see-through orbs of sentient light were a normal thing. "That''s an incredibly private matter! You didn''t need to say it out loud."


    This was all too much for Hannah, who felt numb from the constant destruction of her world view. Unable to process, she took her eggs to the table and started eating them. Ben joined her with some hot sauce on his eggs. He seemed content to let her process things at her own pace, which was commensurate with how she saw him.


    "How was work?" she asked, unaware of what else to say.


    "I didn''t go," Ben excused as he finished his meal. "I was busy cleaning up your house and hiding the evidence. I just said we both caught the same bug from some bad sushi."


    Ben looked at the trash and Hannah followed his eyes where a sushi tray was stuffed into a TFC bucket.


    "Is my dad really in the basement?" Hannah asked.


    "Of course," Ben smiled, "I was waiting to see what you wanted to do with him."


    "What... I wanted to do? Why would I do anything?"


    Ben looked down at the table and said, "Because you deserve to. Call it revenge, call it fairness, bottom line is; this man hurt you and you should have an opportunity to hurt him back."


    "Is that... legal?"


    Ben laughed, "Oh, man, now I have to tell her!"


    "I still consider it unwise," Idet said.


    "Maybe," said Ben, "but I''ll trust her."


    Hannah was confused as Ben got up and motioned for her to follow. She followed him to a door beside the kitchen that normally leads to a garage, but Ben flipped a switch and the wave of paint went over the door, turning it from white to red.


    "Welcome to my trophy room," Ben said, opening the door to reveal a space as large as a dozen aircraft hangars, filled floor to ceiling with crates, alien technology, and taxidermied horrors beyond human comprehension.

 Chapter 3 - A Gentleman of the Times

    Inside of Ben''s garage was a full football stadium sized room filled floor to ceiling with glass displays containing monsters, metaphysical artifacts, and superhero memorabilia. Hannah was in awe at the sheer size of everything. There was a monster who was 90% gaping maw of jagged teeth and as large as a house, but it only rose half-way to the ceiling.


    "Like it?" Ben asked the star struck intern.


    "What is all this?" she asked, then looked at the door and asked a more pertinent question, "How did you fit all this in your garage?"


    "It''s actually some space I have on offer from an intergalactic storage company," Ben explained with some pride. "I discovered a meta-material that separates space and patented it out to a business man from... a world you can''t pronounce. If you stick two of the meta-materials together, you can push one through the other and make a bubble of space that doesn''t appear on the other side, like an infinitely inflatable balloon. Since I suck at business, I gave them the rights to the formula in exchange for my own personal storage container. They manage the space, I get storage."


    During the explanation, Hannah''s train of thought derailed, somersaulted, recovered on a different track, only to collide with another train of thought heading in the opposite direction.


    "C''mon," Ben stepped onto the industrial scaffolding heading left into a cube with a door, "I''ll give you the grand tour."


    Hannah followed closely behind, not wanting to slip and fall down into the ocean of random crap.


    The scaffolding braced against the wall and bowed slightly when Hannah stepped on it, but she kept pace with Ben until they reached the door into the cube section. He opened the door and waved her in, only to be confronted by an all-consuming darkness.


    "Lights on," Ben said, and the darkness was pushed away to reveal a museum of heroes and villains.


    In the center was a large statue of a man wearing a tuxedo battling a very familiar giant.


    "What is all this?" Hannah asked again, and Ben smiled.


    "This is my past," he stated, "everything that I had to do once, and never again."


    Hannah looked to the center where Ymir was facing off against a villain in an epic battle. The same Ymir who disappeared mysteriously five years ago an never resurfaced. Around the same time that Ben showed up...


    Hannah turned around wildly, staring at Ben with the most awestruck expression as butterflies twirled in her stomach like figure skaters.


    "You''re Ymir!" she shrieked.


    The look of disgust Ben''s face contorted into was enough to drive even the most desperate hope she had into a corner to die.


    "Then, who?" she asked.


    Ben pointed to the statue again, where the bronze fight scene showed a picture of the former greatest hero and a guy in formal attire.


    "That guy?" Hannah asked. "You fought against Ymir?"


    "I mean, not with, like, my fists," Ben stumbled over the words, "even I wasn''t that suicidal."


    "Wait," Hannah put her hands up and stepped back, "you mean that you''re...?"


    "A supervillain?" Ben smirked. "How clever of you to discover my secret identity. You must be a genius."


    Hannah started backing up to the door, but Ben just rolled his eyes.


    "You''ve been working under me for the past year and a half, and I even saved you from thugs; does that not warrant the smallest amount of trust?"


    "You could be manipulating me in some way," Hannah said as the door shut before she could escape.


    "I suppose I could," Ben conceded, "or I could be trying to help you."


    "Help me?" Hannah laughed nervously, "Help me how? By removing my memories of last night?"


    "No," Ben said softly, "by giving you some perspective."


    Ben motioned for his intern to follow as he crossed the museum to a small side-door with the words ''Early Life'' imprinted in glowing green. He walked through the door and Ben''s voice from above began to speak as Hannah entered a hallway of strange, ghostly images in regal frames.


    "Our story begins where most do, with a man an woman hooking up at a college frat party and making one too many drunken decisions. Not even dating, Samuel Marcel and Jennifer Vance conceived a child and decided to start dating before deciding whether to keep it. Falling in love, the two married the day after their son, James William Marcel was born. Both of them struggled through the hardships of parenthood while also struggling with their assistant professor tracks to become true university professors at their alma mater. It just so happened to be Samuel who received his tenured position first after releasing a ground-breaking study on the identification of meta-humans through spectrum analysis. Becoming the foremost researcher in his field of meta-human studies, this is also when he unwittingly received the ire of one Dr. Steven Slavens."


    "I''m sorry, but what''s the point of this?" Hannah asked, and the voice-over paused. "What do these people have to do with anything?"


    "Hannah," Ben said while pinching his nose in frustration, "this is my story. I''m James Marcel. Sam and Jen are my parents. The relevance becomes greater later, just listen to it for now."


    The voice over continued, "Dr. Slavens had been studying meta-human physiology for years, being payed enormous sums by the United States Government on behind-the-scenes research. Being outpaced by someone twenty years his junior looked bad in the eyes of his superiors, but Slavens managed to convince them that Samuel had a secret. When Samuel discovered the method of judging power limits and capabilities of meta-humans, but refused to share his research, Slaven had all the ammunition he needed to justify stealing the research. A team that goes unnamed and unrecognized by the US government stormed into Samuel Marcel''s research lab to steal the documents, only for Samuel, who was working a late shift, to be noticed and tragically killed."


    As the story was being told, the framed images on the walls moved like they were actually alive. Hannah could see a family portrait with a kid running around, a college campus, a group of armed men sneaking through a lab, and the grisly murder of Samuel at his desk.


    "With his hands on the research, Slavens discovered what Samuel had been hiding. He had been testing his theories on his own son, James, who had tested above and beyond what his previous assumed records of meta-human potential showed. Convinced that the child was the key to everything, Slavens had the government kidnap James, and for his mother to be silenced to tie up loose ends. Under the care of the mad doctor, James was the first child in a program that unlocked the secret to super-power activation. There is a moment in every child''s life in which they connect with their super-power, and by timing and harnessing this moment, there was potential to activate the super powers of others. But the key was stress, an atrocious amount of it."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The hallway they were walking down took a left turn dyed in red as visions of pain and vile torture dominated the walls. Bloody scenes played out in front of Hannah, whose stomach was already weak from the trauma of her own torture. As the hallway went on, the scenes became more horrific and tragic, from live vivisection to a scene where a group full of children were rinsed with toxic chemicals. She couldn''t even hear the words of the voice-over as she tried to block out the horrors she was seeing.


    The straw that broke the camel''s back and buckled Hannah''s knees was a scene where a child''s limbs were amputated in sections and reattached.


    The poor girl broke down in tears as she fell, putting her hands over her ears and squeezing with all her might to block out the words. She felt a hand on her shoulder and saw Ben leaning over her looking worried and upset himself. He said something to the ceiling, then tried speaking to Hannah through her hands. The crying girl slowly released her grip to hear that the voice-over had stopped and Ben was just asking if she was alright.


    "This can''t be real," Hannah cried, to Ben as he got a feeling for her condition. "There''s no way this could have happened! It''s not real!"


    Ben sadly pursed his lips and looked down his hands. Ever so gradually, not trying to make his intern faint again, he rolled his sleeves back to reveal a constant mass of scar tissue. No skin, no hair, just scars from every conceivable injury. When she saw thin sections of perfectly cut circles that went the whole way around his arm, in the same places as the amputated child, her stomach turned over and her pancakes came back up.


    Vomit pushed it''s way through Hannah''s mouth and out onto the carpeted hallway floor. Ben casually dodged the puke, stepping out of the way before it got on him, but maintaining a comforting hand on his intern''s back.


    "Let''s skip to the end, shall we?" he offered apologetically.


    Hannah weakly got to her knees as the displays around her went black and regular white lighting replaced the red. Ben held her down the hallway, past a few more turns, and back out into the regular museum. A universal bathroom was hidden in one of the shaded parts of the wall, and Ben shuffled her inside where a series of confusing porcelain creations were offered with pictures of aliens. He led her to the picture of a human where an regular toilet sat ready to be used. He let her go, giving her and her stomach agency over what happened next. She took a few deep breaths as Ben stood to the side, giving her space to take care of what came up.


    "Why did you show me that?" she asked, leaning over the toilet.


    "Well, because that happened to me," Ben scratched his neck nervously, "and it was perspective that really saved me from going crazy. So I thought that offering you perspective..., might help you get through what you went through."


    "What kind of perspective did you get," Hannah hiccupped, "that saved you from THAT?!"


    "Well, you know my power?"


    "Three-dimensional sight, yeah."


    "Not exactly.... It''s more like... omniscience?"


    Hannah spit into the toilet, "You''re omniscient?"


    "Not right now!" Ben excused, sitting down on the bathroom floor. "I keep my power limited to a small area around me. But when I first got it, I saw everything! The whole universe, past, present, and future, laid out in front of me like the tapestry of fate. From the edges of the universe to the most minute movement of subatomic energy. I saw it all, but what saved me was the suffering of others. I am not starving today, even though I know that someone somewhere is, and that makes me feel like things could be worse. There were three hundred and fourteen children in the program by the time it was destroyed, and I am the only survivor. Things could be worse, even if they could be significantly better."


    Hannah scowled at Ben, who smiled and said, "So, how are we going to make things better for tomorrow?"


    "That doesn''t make me feel the slightest bit better," Hannah grumbled, spitting into the toilet again. She was lying, it did actually settle her stomach a little to think that she was free from...


    "Where is my dad?" she asked suddenly.


    "I have him confined," Ben stated. "He''s imprisoned, but unharmed. At least, unharmed for now. That was what I had planned, after the tour."


    "Really? You didn''t take him to the police, or something?"


    "Hannah, I''m a supervillain," Ben rolled his eyes, "do you really think I''d leave anyone in police custody?"


    "Can I see him?"


    "Of course," Ben opened the stall door, "right this way."


    They left the bathroom and exited the museum via service elevator which took them down to the ground floor. Standing around the myriad of containers and boxes, Hannah realized the space was much larger than she initially thought. Most of the boxes that looked sized for a mattress were actually large enough to fit a coffin. She couldn''t even see over the top of all the stacked storage containers and miscellaneous crap.


    They didn''t go far to reach Hannah''s dad, as Ben said, "I just tossed him right here until you decided what to do with him."


    He approached a pile crap and fished out a small, white cube that looked very similar to the material of the walls in this bent space. He unfolded the cube that sat in the palm of his hand until it no longer fit in his hand. He bent and angled the thing out of itself until it resembled a doorway that could be propped up against a nearby crate.


    "He''s in here," Ben said, entering the doorway to yet another room of removed space. This one had only a single decoration, a tridecahedron of a clear substance separated by a glowing force that looked like slow lightning. It fizzled and writhed about as a man in the center seemed stuck in a single, frozen moment of pain.


    "What''s wrong with him?" Hannah asked.


    "It''s a chronal prison," Ben stated as if that explained everything. "Your father is stuck in a single frozen moment of pain."


    "What did you do?"


    "I kicked him in the nuts and then stopped time around him. And now, it''s your turn."


    Ben turned back to the doorway where a blue button and red button were located roughly where a light switch would be. He pressed the blue button with a satisfying click and the buzz of energy dissipated around the fat bastard. The fractured space-time put itself back together one agonizing crack at a time until the scream finally came through and Hannah''s father fell to his knees, clutching his crotch in agony. His breathing was so labored, it regularly descended into coughing fits.


    Hannah almost wanted to rush to her father''s side as his piteous moans of despair tugged at her heart strings, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned to see Ben with a gentle smile and a perfectly cleaned cutlery knife in his hands, the same one he knabbed from Hannah''s house before he left.


    "An eye for an eye," Ben stated, handing Hannah the knife.


    "I...," Hannah didn''t quite know what to say. "I thought an eye for an eye would make the whole world blind?"


    "Ghandi said that," Ben stated, "and he was as wrong then as you are now. See, an eye for an eye means three things: Revenge, Justice, and Equality. Most people only see it as revenge, no pun intended, but it once stood to mean that the punishment should fit the crime. You take my eye, I take yours, and nothing more. I don''t get your teeth, or your hair, or any limbs, just what you took from me. Fair, simple justice that anyone can dispense."


    "But it meant more than that, because of WHEN the phrase emerged. You see it was something like 330 BC when people started saying ''an eye for an eye''. This was a time when Alexander the Great and Cleopatra were considered gods, people of such high standing that they existed in a realm above mere mortals. Try telling those people, leaders of entire nations, conquerors, legends, that their eye was equal in value to anyone else''s. That even the highest in high society had value equal to the lowest of the low. And that''s why it''s my favorite interpretation.


    "It sets people on equal ground, regardless of how they think of themselves, and relies on our actions to judge what we''re truly made of. It pulls the high and mighty off of their high horses and down into the dirt with the rest of us. And that fat slob in there, barring anything he may have said, has treated his eye as more valuable than yours. He clearly does not think that you are on the same level as him."


    Ben handed the knife to Hannah and said, "Go pull him off his high horse."


    "Whatever you decide to do," Ben said as he turned to leave, "press the blue button if you want to reactivate the chronal prison to save some for later, or press the red button... when you''re done. Idet will take care of you while I''m gone."


    "Where are you going?" Hannah asked, clutching the knife as Ben opened the door to leave.


    "I may have been excused from my council duties," Ben said, "but today''s my first day as coach, and I''d like to set a good example for the children."


    Ben smiled and waved as he closed the door behind him, whistling on the elevator ride as Hannah looked at the man who almost broke her as a human being.


    Ben adjusted his watch before he got in his car. Once blade had met skin, he decided to let the girl work out her frustrations in privacy.


    And the mixed perspectives of bent space always gave him a little headache.

 Chapter 4: The Next Generation of Heroes

    In the library of Jefferson High School, Ben was waiting in the ideal location for an introduction to his team. The entrance was in the north, so he''d positioned himself at the southernmost point of a table that extends further than five feet. The kids would come in and Ben would begin introductions with the trick where he makes them pull cards, then he would have them move around and stress his ability. Once they knew what Ben was about, they would cover each of their powers and Ben would do some theory crafting and send them home with homework to practice their powers. They would get to know each other, maybe their powers would actually interest Ben, and then they could take the weekend to relax and reconvene on Monday.


    As much as Ben wanted his coaching fantasies to match what he''d seen on TV, his secretly expanded dimensional sight caught someone at the edge of his vision. Even though this person existed in material space, the immediate area around him was dark, as if light refused to touch him. When the final bell of the day buzzed over the loudspeakers, he used the noise to open the door and close it silently, hinting that this person was at least familiar with sneaking around. Also, his power hid him from sight, but not sound.


    Ben didn''t immediately react as the invisible kid moved around the edge of the library looking for something.


    Curious, Ben started loudly fiddling with the cards to draw attention to his spot. The invisible kid hadn''t had line of sight to the councilman, but assuming that this group consisted of the only five meta-humans in the entire high school, this kid was absolutely one of them. He must have skipped class to come check out the coach, unaware that the coach had the only power in the world that countered his own.


    Once the boy had eyes on Ben, he approached slowly and silently, rolling his feet to make as little sound as possible. As a test, the see-through high schooler slowly slid a book from the shelf until it was at the edge, then tilted it over the edge to make it fall over.


    Ben played along, looking up suddenly when the sound of a thud reached his ears. He fiddled with the deck a second longer, then got up from the table and went into the library to investigate. He did a thorough scan of each hallway as the boy crept a short distance away from the book, testing the new coach. Ben saw the book on the ground and went to pick it up, only to visibly react when the invisible kid entered the five foot radius.


    Rather than say anything, Ben just chuckled as he glanced at the kid''s shoes and in his general direction a few times before carrying the book back to the table and stacking the card deck on top.


    Another group of kids, these ones thankfully visible, reached the perimeter of his actual sense, and none of them sparked his interest like the invisible brat who was wary of Ben after he''d pulled his little trick. One girl who was definitely the hot-blooded senior that Ben had heard about, two junior guys who were following closely behind her like trained dogs, and a tiny little freshmen bringing up the rear. As much as Ben wanted his time as a coach to be a bonding session, the nature of the super powers involved necessitated several documents being passed to him prior to meeting his team.


    The girl was Katherine Carmichael, a hothead in the most literal sense with the power to project fire from her mouth when she screamed. Her physiology hadn''t changed, warranting that this was a magic or will-based power that could manifest out of her mouth. Nicknamed ''The Dragon of Jefferson High'' for her power, her tendency to selfishly hoard things, and a fiery personality. Her raging ginger condition probably didn''t help that at all.


    The junior who two heads over his peer was definitely Gary Grainger, ''The Goliath''. Despite an impressive 6''7" height coupled with a frame that could tackle a charging rhinoceros, his power was the ability to materialize energy into physical objects. In short, a builder. The constructs only last for as long as Gary can focus on them, the biggest drawback for any teenager with a crush.


    The other junior was ''Twin-Headed'' Garrett Mathers, the only anthro-morph of the group, whose body had qualities of a snake, including some scales that he''s very embarrassed about. This physique allowed him to squish his skin down and fit through openings as large as his bones, and transformed his spine from a human lumbar to the more agile snake variety. Whether his snake-like face was because of his emo style or a natural occurrence was hotly debated, but Ben could see that Garrett was clenching the muscles in his face to keep it shaped that way.


    The freshman was Stanley Chevis, no nickname because he was afraid of using his power unless it was an emergency. His power, oddly enough, was to levitate objects, perhaps the most useful and straight-forward ability of the groups. He was pretty small with a bowl-cut and hardly a facial hair on him otherwise, but Ben could tell from his sight that the boy had a body like Bruce Lee. Whatever his workout regimen was, it was clearly intense.


    Ben casually started fiddling with the deck as he heard the the door open and the kids enter.


    "Over here," Ben called out, and Katherine led the group over to the open tables. When they got close enough, Ben shouted, "Stop!"


    The kids all suddenly stopped in their tracks as they regarded Ben with suspicion. The invisible kid circled the library to get behind Ben and watch the scene unfold.


    "Howdy, y''all! Before we get started, it''s only right that I inform you all of my power," Ben announced, feeling his voice echo around the open library. "Did you guys ever play catch?"


    "Sure," Katherine said cautiously.


    "Alright, catch!" he said as he tossed the deck of cards.


    Katherine dodged it instinctively and it flew between her suitors before hitting Stanley in the chest. All the kids scowled at the coach.


    "Okay," Ben tried to keep some momentum, "go ahead and shuffle the cards, then pull one out and don''t show it to me! Then face the card away from me and reach it forward."


    The table was about six feet long, just long enough to reach the edges of what Ben said his power was at. Katherine took the deck and just withdrew a single card so that Ben couldn''t see what it was. She put her arm forward and presented the card so that Ben couldn''t see it.


    "Queen of Hearts," Ben said simply. "That was too easy, take out three cards."


    "Can you just tell us what your power is?" Katherine demanded.


    "Dimensional sight," Ben stated, a little peeved that his demonstration was ruined. "I can see all sides of an object within a certain distance from myself. That includes the insides of these objects as well, so if there''s anything that you might not want me to see, that''s perfectly fine. Just stay five feet away from me and I''ll stay five feet away from you."


    Katherine smirked, then approached Ben with the confidence of a teenager who thought they were untouchable.


    "Nice tattoo," he smiled, and the girl''s freckled face suddenly blushed like a wildfire.


    "You have a tattoo?" asked Garrett curiously.


    "Shut up!" Katherine threatened, the air warmer than was natural.


    "That''s why I was trying to warn you," Ben stated to the four kids who were outside of his fake range. "I can see what you ate for lunch and how full you bladder is. That''s some seriously personal information. I would never go blabbing about it to anyone, but I will still know. If you want to keep me in the dark, make sure not to get too close to me."


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "Yeah, well, I bet your power isn''t perfect!" the redhead argued, backing up to a safe distance. "I bet Michael could get past you!"


    "You mean the invisible kid who''s standing right behind me?" Ben asked with a smug grin.


    The coach turned around in his chair and stared directly into the eyes of the final member of his team, even as light bent around his shaggy, unkempt face.


    Michael Baumgardener, the invisible troublemaker.


    "Like I said," Ben said to the invisible kid, "dimensional sight. If you exist along any dimension, I can see everything."


    "Bullshit," Michael said, then he leaned back and cocked his arm to punch Michael in the face.


    Michael leaned the chair back and got out from under it while the punch was thrown. Years of military hand-to-hand combat training kicked in and Ben blocked the blow by striking the wrist. He then unleashed his own punch, one that carried the hidden threat of death as it very nearly cracked Michael''s forehead open.


    The grisly fist stopped less than an inch from his target''s head, then it turned and flicked the kid''s forehead.


    Michael de-cloaked, becoming visible as a skinny hispanic kid wearing baggy clothes and a baseball cap turned backwards.


    "What the hell, man?!" the invisible kid shouted.


    "Quiet in the library," Ben chastised, "and next time you come to school, don''t bring any knives."


    "I don''t have-"


    "One in your back pocket and one in your sock, don''t bullshit me, kid. Three inch and two inch, respectively. And they''re illegal to bring into the building. Get rid of them by tomorrow."


    Michael scowled, then cackled like a pretentious joker, "You think I''m afraid of you?! You don''t know shit, you pussy-bastard-bitch!"


    "Yes I do," Ben stated, "because I see what else you''re trying to cover up."


    Despite being invisible, Michael still wore a sweatshirt with no visible shirt, more for the sleeves than anything else. Along his arms were cigarette burns, tiny patches of melted-over skin from a very personal encounter.


    "YOU DON''T KNOW ME!" Michael shouted, pulling out one of the knives and flicking it open.


    "Michael!" Katherine screamed.


    "Bro!" Garrett shouted, rushing forward before Michael could do anything crazy.


    In the madness, all Michael saw was Ben, flexing his index and middle finger in the universal sign of ''bring it on''. The invisible kid charged, the knife going invisible as it was aimed sloppily at Ben''s side.


    Ben could have caught Michael''s wrist, twisted it, and kicked the knife aside. He could have caught the knife itself, perhaps cutting his finger a little if he wasn''t as fast as he used to be. He could have kicked Michael in the chest before the knife was anywhere close to its intended target. He could have activated the Kepler Defense Protocol he kept in his wallet for emergencies which summoned a spectral soldier for seventy yugret(galactic currency(non-Milky Way)) per second.


    But instead, Ben decided to establish dominance by angling his hand so that the blade went clean through his palm.


    When Michael felt the resistance as his tiny weapon pierced skin, he quickly let go of the blade in fear. He stumbled backwards, scared that he had just crossed a line that he couldn''t come back from.


    But when the boy looked up into his coach''s eyes to judge his face, he saw nothing.


    Ben was making no facial expression. He was almost... relaxed. His eyes followed Michael as the boy stumbled backwards to the ground; no tears shed, no twitch to his eyelids, no sense at all that knife dug into his hand was even bothering him. The cool dispassion of it all burrowed an unnatural feeling into the invisible brat''s gut that he would carry with him whenever Ben was around.


    While maintaining unblinking, unflinching eye contact, Ben slowly slid the knife from his palm and closed it ever so deliberately.


    "I''m confiscating this," Ben stated, putting it into his own back pocket.


    "Mr... somebody!" Katherine shouted to get the councilman''s attention. "You''re hand''s bleeding!"


    "Worry not," Ben said, reaching under the table where he was sitting and pulling up a first aid kit. "Powers can be naturally dangerous things, so I loaned out a first aid kit from the nurse''s office! Today wasn''t supposed to be about medical emergencies, but this seems as prompt a lesson as any!"


    For the next twenty minutes, Ben discussed the ins and outs of injuries, grievous wounds, and broken bones. He even included Michael in the lesson, without even demanding anything of him. He discussed who to call if on-hand medical equipment couldn''t fix anything, how to identify a wound to first responders, and how to stem the flow of blood in extreme emergencies. Most of it was basic battlefield first aid that could be done with a torn shirt and a stick, but he followed up with questions on specific wounds from the kids, who asked about crushed fingers(Gary), falling injuries(Stanley), and getting stuck in things(Garrett). Katherine asked how to treat burns, and Ben got the impression the information wasn''t because she could breathe fire.


    Michael stood around listening until he was sucked in as well, watching as Ben demonstrated the correct way to tie a tourniquet.


    When their hour for after school activities was over, Ben packed up the first aid kit and bid the kids farewell. He watched them go, but when Michael and Katherine thought they were a safe distance away, she punched Michael right in the stomach.


    "What the hell is wrong with you!?" she shouted in as quiet a voice as she could manage. "This is my last year to get into a good college, and you''re fucking up my only chance!"


    "You were the one who should have studied!" Michael shouted back.


    "I... know!" Katherine couldn''t rebuke. "But I didn''t! And now this is my last chance! The scholarships from Hero Hunt can get me into the Ivy Leagues! If you guys fuck this up, I''m never going to forgive you!"


    "Hey, we''re doing this as a favor," Gary said, crossing his arms but standing up to the fiery girl. "You''re the one in trouble here."


    "Well, I kinda would like a scholarship, too," Garrett nervously defended Katherine.


    Stanley just left as an argument erupted, but Michael remained until nobody''s eyes were on him, then he turned invisible and crept away. When the group noticed his disappearance, he was already turning a corner and out of the way. He was out of Ben''s sight a moment later, disappearing somewhere in the school to do whatever. The other kids just walked to the front of the building, next to the library. Positioned just far enough away that Ben could see their parents vehicles when they drove up.


    Katherine''s mother picked her up, a grey-haired woman amazingly still in her fifties, if her eggs were anything to go by. She drove a two-year old porsche cayenne minivan, but didn''t wear nearly enough jewelry to seem like a bitch. She had a gentle conversation with her daughter who didn''t want to talk about it. Garret and Gary were picked up by what could only be Gary''s dad, who looked like a lumberjack who ate another lumberjack. They drove away in a truck decked out with enough toolboxes to stock a home improvement store, and once they were far enough away, Stanley just walked down the street.


    Ben packed up the first aid kit and left the library, intending to return it to the nurse''s office. The entire administrative wing of the school was on the north side, while the library was south. As he made his way through the single-story school, he noticed Michael, sitting outside the principal''s office. His eyes were red and foggy from tears, but he was obviously in Ben''s path.


    ''He must be planning something,'' Ben thought, noticing that the other knife wasn''t in his sock. ''I''ll bite.''


    Ben entered the admin side of the school where the principal, vice-principal, nurse and councilor''s offices were. He made a point to look directly at Ben, who sniffled at his entrance, but neither of them said anything. He crossed the room into the nurse''s office and packed away the first aid kit, waiting to see what Michael would do. The boy just silently shed a few tears, not wanting to initiate even though he had something to say. Ben stepped out of the nurses office, locking it behind him as he locked eyes with an invisible kid. The councilman waited for the boy to say anything, but nothing was said,  so he left.


    On the way out, he heard the sobs continue, and it he clenched his eyes.


    "Of course I have to be the adult in this scenario," Ben swore before heading back inside.


    Michael quickly stopped his crying as Ben marched right over to the invisible child and grabbed him roughly by the burn marks on his shoulders.


    "Who did this to you?" Ben asked with the same stare he used when he was stabbed.


    Michael didn''t answer, he just quivered his lip.


    "Do you want this to stop?" Ben asked.


    Michael didn''t say, but he nodded.


    "Alright," Ben let go, "but are you willing to get the cops involved?"


    "S-s-s-she''ssss been arr-r-rested three times," Michael finally choked some words out.


    Ben hoped it didn''t show how shocked he was that the abuser was a woman, "Then it has to be you."


    "W-w-w-w-"


    "But this," Ben hissed, taking the knife out and putting it in Michael''s face, "can''t be how you do it. This is what she does. This will not be how you do it."


    Ben placed the weapon in Michael''s hands saying, "We''ll be training personal defense and offense with your abilities. You''ll learn how to take people down in a way that only you can. And when you do, that''s how you fight back."


    Ben got to his feet and said before leaving finally, "Don''t bring knives to school."

 Chapter 5 - The Gentlemans Fall

    Ben pulled into his little HOA subdivision and felt a strange sense of pride in what he''d done. Giving hope to a child having a rough time was almost indescribable. He kept his engine quiet to not disturb the neighborhood until he noticed a light in the front window of his house move from one side of the room to the other.


    "Idet," Ben growled, opening the garage and coasting into his parking spot. Before the car even came to a full stop, Ben had the door open and he was stepping out while activating the emergency brake.


    Inside of his home, a glowing ball of light was hovering over the shoulder of his intern as they watched him enter in a fast rage. Hannah looked nervous, her hands wringing the edge of her shirt as she tried to find the words to say.


    Before she could get a word out, Ben charged over to Idet and punched the ball of light, his fist flying unnervingly close to Hannah''s head. The glow started to die down, leaving only a dim microwave light on from the kitchen, and Hannah finally saw it.


    The Gentleman stood in front of her with the most mild expression of annoyance. His arm was still right by her face after he''d almost punched her, cast in shadow from the last light source behind him. He was suddenly much larger than Hannah, as if he was finally standing straight with his shoulders to their full wingspan.


    "You were visible from the window," he said in a stone-cold tone of voice that made his intern shiver.


    "I made sure that I closed the blinds," Idet''s synthesized voice emitted from Ben''s watch.


    "I could see your light moving across the room," Ben warned, looking at his watch as the metal now possessed an iridescent glow. "You were far too obvious. Be more careful."


    "Bad day?" Hannah asked, having never seen her boss in such a stern mood.


    "One of kids is having a rough time at home," Ben stated dryly. "Not nearly as a bad as you, but y''know how hard it is for kids to face cruelty."


    "Oh..., are you... gonna... y''know?"


    "No, I''m not going to break his door down. I''m not some galavanting hero who goes around saving everyone. I''m just a simple city councilman with dreams of being mayor."


    "Then why''d you save me?"


    Ben sighed while massaging his temples, "Because..., I can only stand so much abuse. Your case was... extreme, so I stepped in. How is your father, by the way?"


    "He''s still downstairs," Hannah said, wringing her shirt a little more. "I''m not... finished with him. That''s kinda what I want to talk with you about, I was wondering if maybe... you could do it?"


    "Hannah, I think that pig deserves pain, but honestly, I would be happy if he just ceased to exist. If you want to torture him, now''s your only shot."


    "No, I wanna see him begging for his life!" Hannah quickly cheered. "But, I just don''t feel like I''m any good at it! He keeps swearing at me and it throws me off and I don''t feel like he''s in enough pain! I was hoping you could, I dunno, show me how to skin him alive?"


    "You want pointers," Ben finished, realizing he may have been a bit hasty with all of this. He had personally, meticulously planned the torture and death of his nemesis for ten years or more. Hannah had only recently had the idea to get back at her father, and it was clearly a struggle to come to terms with.


    "Honestly, I could torture him for you," Ben casually ellicited, "but it won''t be an ounce as satisfying if you don''t do it yourself. Though, if you want a method of torture, I could probably help you whip something up. What you need to do is search the blackest, inkiest parts of your heart and find out what he said or did that made you feel the worst out of everything."


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    It didn''t even take Hannah a minute to answer, "When I was eight, my mother was driving me home from a softball game when someone crashed into us. The other driver didn''t have insurance, so he fled from the scene, but my mother was bleeding and trapped under the car. I got out and cried over her while she was trying to tell me to pick up her phone and call for help..., but I didn''t. It took a long time for someone to find us and call an ambulance. She died... on the way to the hospital.


    "The first time my dad took me home from the hospital, something like a month later, he just asked me ''why''.... ''Why did I let my mother die?''"


    For the emotional rollercoaster Hannah had been through, she still had tears to shed.


    "I can work with that," Ben said, looking back at the garage. "You wouldn''t happen to have videos of your mother, would you?"


    ==================================================================================


    Inside of a plain white metallic room, Hannah''s father was pulled from a stopped time bubble. He had been stabbed twice in the gut and once in the back, but the wounds weren''t deep or positioned right. He looked around for where his bitch daughter was, only to see something impossible.


    There, standing in the doorway, was his wife, wearing the same regal white gown she''d worn on their wedding night. There were slight trembling in her sparkling blue eyes and vibrant purple lipstick that she insisted on wearing even though it didn''t match her dress because it was her favorite color.


    "Baby?" he squealed, pulling at his restraints. "Baby, what are you doing here? How are you...?"


    "Oh, I''m not your baby," said a very tired Hannah through her mother''s visage.


    "Hannah? How are you-?"


    "Because you hurt me, dad," said Hannah as her mother, brandishing the knife once more. "But no matter how I sliced you up, it just didn''t feel... right. Something was missing. You were in pain, sure, but only physical pain. You weren''t distraught, like I have been every night of my life because of you. You must''ve known I would get you back one day, but I bet you''d never imagined this."


    Hannah strode over to her father while an image of her mother on her wedding night was overlaid on top of her. It was some alien doo-hicky that Ben had pulled out of a crate somewhere, and he''d copied as much as he could from some old wedding videos to get the right style and voice.


    "Now," Hannah said as a voice modulator kicked in and her voice became sultry, just like her mother''s, "scream for me like a real man."


    =============================================================================================


    It was the next morning when Hannah emerged from the basement, covered in blood behind the dynamic image of her mother in a wedding dress. Ben was casually sipping coffee, ready to go to sleep because he hadn''t planned anything to do for this Saturday.


    "How do you feel?" Ben asked, having watched Hannah go all night now that her father''s emotional pain healed her.


    Hannah took a deep breath, and it felt like the first one in ages. She could feel the cool air go into her lungs and the slight euphoria that comes with a deep breath after too long hyperventilating. She laughed a little, smiled, then deactivated the holographic suit to reveal a painting of blood stains across her real clothes.


    "I feel great!" she giggled. "Like this pressure that''s been squeezing me from all sides is just... gone!"


    "That''s excellent," Ben said, trying to enjoy the coffee. "We''ll celebrate tomorrow. Right now, you need to change clothes and wash up. Just throw those into the incinerator. Then get a good night''s sleep and we''ll reconvene later tonight."


    "Do y''wanna fuck?" Hannah asked.


    Ben, unprepared for the question, spat his coffee back into the mug, splashing it all over his shirt. A bit of the bitter liquid went down his windpipe, which he spent a crucial minute coughing up instead of answering the question.


    "I''m sorry," Ben apologized once he could speak, "but that''s impossible."


    "Am I not good enough?" Hannah demanded in an attempt to force the situation.


    "Quite the opposite," Ben said, undoing a few buttons on his shirt and flashing his intern. The masticated skin that looked like someone had thrown an entire cattle ranch into a threshing machine caught the girl by surprise, and her gag reflex activated. "You can''t stand the sight of me."


    "We can turn the lights off," Hannah reasoned, trying not to make it obvious that she was swallowing some stomach acid.


    "You think this feels any more natural than it looks?" Ben asked while buttoning his shirt up. "No, I''ve given up on having a sex life with anyone that can''t look at me. Besides, you''re more like a niece, or a daughter to me."


    "We''re only four years age difference!"


    "And what a difference that four years makes," Ben said, tussling his intern''s hair. "Let''s put a pin in that, because I''m gonna go to bed."


    "I just wanted to ask you something," Hannah urged. "You said that you once saw all time and space, right? What''s the most surprising thing you saw?"


    Ben considered for a moment, then smiled and said, "I was most surprised how many things noticed I was watching.... Good night!"


    The councilman saw his intern''s worried smile as he headed towards his bedroom.


    "You''re... you''re kidding, right?" she asked, wringing her shirt again.


    "Sweet dreams!" Ben called as he closed his door.

 Chapter 6 - Practice Makes Prefects

    When Benjamin returned to his councilman office on Monday morning, he couldn''t quite meet Hannah''s eyes. The small town gossip had already gotten around that her father had disappeared and that she was staying at Ben''s place until she could get back on her feet. Thankfully, the entire town also knew a bit of what a pig Hannah''s dad is, so nobody was judging the actions of the young city councilman. They were, however, viciously demanding what church the wedding would be taking place at so they could start setting up early.


    All of this reminded Benjamin why he wanted to live in such a small town. Sure, it was a little annoying to have a dozen people''s noses in your business, especially when that business required cleaning up a crime scene, but it was a level of care that just didn''t exist anywhere else. While Hannah had been sleeping off the worst night of her life, two separate elderly couples came by and offered food platters, one green bean casserole and a smoked ham they had been preparing for two days. And Ben would never admit that he almost cried when he tried that smoked ham, and only partially because the old bats didn''t mention it had habanero spice in it.


    It was a cozy feeling, like sitting in front of a fireplace with some hot chocolate after wiping out on your ski''s.


    The activities of local council continued regardless of the distress, but Benjamin found himself distracted from his regular duties by his coaching position. The hero sports are actually a suite of standard competitions that were once the realm of video games. Capture the flag, knockout elimination, battle royale, heroes vs villains, and a few ball-based sports thrown in for good measure. Capture the flag was by far the most popular and easiest to set up, but Ben suspected it was popular because it allowed for the competition of non-offensive superpowers.


    Also, now that Ben was the coach of a never-before-in-existence team, it fell to him to schedule the games and even provide setup for them. There were a number of parks in the area that would suffice for capture the flag, but the direct fighting ones would have to be special so that Katherine doesn''t burn anything other than her opponent.


    The Monday following Ben''s first meeting with his team was out on a large training field where the track and field normally practiced. It was the warmest day of winter so far with a balmy forty degrees in direct sunlight, and Ben was going to get a feeling of the kids'' powers. When he showed up to see four kids and Michael hiding a good distance away, Ben counted Michael as absent and continued.


    First up was Katherine, not because of any random selection, she just wanted to show off. Everyone backed away except Ben, who stood behind her to keep her power within the range of his sight. Sure enough, Katherine shouted "HA!" and fire erupted from her mouth. The range was about five feet, and the fire didn''t so much as eject like dragon breath than it did spontaneously combust.


    "That''s interesting," Ben said as he monitored the power closely with his dimensional sight. "Your power isn''t so much producing the flames as it is converting the sound into heat and igniting the air, converting acoustic to thermal, as it were. Have you ever tried to make any random noise and set it on fire?"


    Katherine, unaware of what Ben had just said except the last part, answered, "I can hum to make a low flame."


    She did just that, emitting a flame more like a candle from her lips. The heat started to build around her nose and she stopped before it became too painful.


    "Alright, well," Ben said as he picked up a fire extinguisher he brought from home, "let''s try a few things out. Try clapping first and see if you can turn that into fire."


    Katherine squinted at the unusual request, but positioned her hands apart and slapped them together full force. The air in front of her ignited, expanding quickly and blowing Katherine back a few steps as the explosion rocked her world. She hit something like a bar as Ben put his forearm out to block the falling child. Ben stepped around Katherine and hit her winter jacket with a quick puff of the fire extinguisher as the fuzzy bits started to cinder.


    "WOAH!" Katherine smiled wildly. "What the hell was that?!"


    "Your power isn''t fire breath," Ben stated, waiting to see how flammable the coat was, "you can turn sound into heat. I thought it was weird when you yelled, but I didn''t actually hear anything. Now we just need to find out if you can turn any sound into fire, or just ones you make. Here, I''m going to hum a little and you try turning it into heat."


    Ben hummed a low note and Katherine concentrated on it. Ben was a little surprised when his face got a little warmer, but no flame emerged. He tried raising his pitch and watched with fascination as a small red flame appeared, then it had a blue tinge when he reached the squeakiest sound he could make.


    "Alright!" Ben cheered, but he was cut off when a flame burped away from his mouth. "It looks like your ability works better when the noise is higher pitched!"


    After a moment''s consideration, Ben asked, "Have you tried whistling?"


    Katherine''s eyes shined with the brightness of a starry night, and she immediately whistled herself a flame. Unlike her shouting flame that bellowed red fire, this one ignited a long, blue flame like the worlds most potent oxyacetylene torch.


    Unfortunately, she hadn''t turned around when she did so, and Ben received a blast of blue flame directly to the chest.


    It took the moment she whisteled to realize what she''d done, and Katherine quickly stopped her power and started freaking out. When the flame went away, Katherine was terrified and relieved to see that Ben was unharmed.


    Ben however, was glaring at the fire screamer with a look that could kill.


    "Just because I fire-proofed my clothes," he cautioned, "doesn''t mean I accept being blowtorched. Do that again, and you''re off the team."


    "I''m sorry!" Katherine cried, almost tearing up at the thought of losing her scholarship.


    "Be more careful next time," Ben warned less threateningly. "Start practicing with the idea that your power works on sound. Gary, you''re up next."


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Katherine sulked away, not wanting to risk getting thrown off the team. Gary took up position next to Ben and stood there awkwardly.


    "Well, make something," Ben said.


    "Like what?" the goliath asked.


    Ben did his best to hide his sense of hopelessness that the guy who could create structures out of his imagination lacked creativity.


    "Let''s start with a square."


    Gary raised his hand and conjured an opaque cube of brown light. It started as a flat square about the thickness of a sheet of paper, then it grew out into a full cube. It was an ugly little thing about the size of a softball, and it didn''t seem to have any sort of unique qualities.


    "Can I see it?" Ben asked, and Gary just placed the cube into Ben''s hand.


    As Ben was inspecting the cube, even he didn''t notice any sort of use to the material. It seemed to have the consistency of cardboard and could barely hold itself up. Ben poked and prodded it, feeling it bend slightly at his touch until he dropped it experimentally and it deconstructed upon hitting the ground.


    Ben had no idea what this could possibly be useful for besides maybe temporarily blocking someone''s view, until he noticed Gary chuckle a little bit. He got a strange look from Ben, who asked for another cube. This time, Ben slightly scratched the cube and watched as Gary started laughing hysterically until the construct vaporized.


    "Gary... you can feel your constructs?"


    "Sure," Gary glumly agreed, "isn''t that normal for summoners?"


    "No," Ben laughed a little, "but that makes this a really different power. Have you ever felt pain through one of your constructs?"


    "No, they''re not sturdy enough to hold up against that kind of... (what''s the word)... force. They just break."


    "Alright, well, how many can you make?"


    "I''ve gotten up to twenty-two, but, ah, they don''t last very long when I have to concentrate that hard."


    "That''s fine, I''m just coming up with a way to use your power. Have you ever tried building a construct somewhere that already has something in it, like say, underground?"


    "No."


    Ben waited for more of an answer or some sort of action, then asked, "Can you try it now?"


    "Oh, sure," Gary said, then pointed his palm at the ground. Nothing really happened at first, then a small bump appeared in the ground as a flat line cut through the dirt and slowly built itself up.


    "Try to keep it flat."


    The construct slowly shrank, becoming flat enough that the ground didn''t seem disturbed anymore. Experimentally, Ben stepped on top of the ground where the brown construct was and noticed Gary give him a sour smile.


    "You can still feel that?"


    "Sure, a little," Gary stated with a tickled smile.


    "Alright, then your power is going to be used for locating people. For practice, work on making some sort of grid or net underground and feeling where people are."


    "Like sonar?"


    "Yes, Gary, like sonar. Get to it! Next, Garrett!"


    Garrett approached and Ben couldn''t quite hide his smile when he realized what the snake man was hiding in his jacket.


    "What?" the slithering tongue called out.


    "Nothing, it''s fine," Ben said as he realized why there were two dozen hand warmers hidden in pockets around Garrett''s jacket.


    One of the qualities that his snake physique gave him was his cold-bloodedness. Besides fooling someone who can detect heat signatures, Ben couldn''t really think of a use for it, so he had to make do with something else.


    "Is there any special thing that your snake body can do?" Ben asked outright.


    "No," Garrett sulked. "Can''t you see anything?"


    "Well, besides your bones being thinner and your skin being a bit softer, your muscles are kinda weird."


    "What''s weird about them?"


    "They''re out of place," Ben reviewed, "like they aren''t positioned normally. There are a few around a human wrist for grip strength about five inches long, but yours are seven inches and go down into your forearm. Have you ever had your grip strength tested?"


    "No."


    "We''ll have to put that to the test when we''ve got time in the gym. It looks like you might have the constricting power of a snake. Y''know how snakes squeeze their prey? Your muscles might be built for that."


    "How does that help me?"


    "You''d have to learn some grappling techniques to make the most of it. Besides that, all of your bones are segmented out and with your cold-blooded nature means that you can use your appendages like a whip without risking cardiac injury. Here let me:"


    Ben took a boxing stance and explained, "Watch how I punch. See how I have to extend my arm out like this and throw my back into it? The way you would hit someone is more like a whip, which has considerably more power if you can get the timing right. For training, you should watch a few videos on how whips work and try to replicate it in a strike. But be careful! Whips have an incredible amount of power to crack and it could seriously harm you if you don''t harden up your hands!"


    Garrett grumbled that his ''power'' was useless, but Ben imagined that if he could properly conceive of a martial art that suited his snake bones, he would at least be able to match up to mid-level heroes.


    "Next," Ben said, but Stanley stepped up without having to be called. "Alright, can you display your power?"


    "No," Stanley said, his voice muffled by a cubic meter of winter clothes wrapped around him.


    "''No'' as in you can''t, or ''no'' as in you don''t want to?"


    "I don''t want to," Stanley answered nervously.


    "Come on, Stan!" Katherine called out, warming her hands by snapping her fingers. "You promised you would help out!"


    "I told you I wouldn''t use my powers!" Stanley''s muffled argument came through. "I''m just here to fill a body."


    "Any reason why?" Ben asked. "Is it philosophical, or just something personal?"


    "Personal," Stanley announced.


    "Alright, I won''t pry," Ben said softly, but inside, he knew very well the reason why.


    Stanley Chevis, son of Jeff and Melinda Chevis, and younger brother of James Chevis... the newest fireman at the fire department... and a Humanity First member.


    ''His home life must be some kind of terrible,'' Ben thought, ''and that''s if it''s just his brother. The parents could also be Humanity First members. I wouldn''t even want to imagine what kind of pressure this kid would be under.''


    Katherine was glaring at Stanley, clearly with some choice words for the kid, but Ben preempted her.


    "Don''t get on him for not wanting to use his power," Ben called out. "If I could turn my power off, I would. Everyone''s got their own circumstances. Stanley, if you want to use this time to study or do homework, you can. But you''ll have to be there when we have actual matches."


    "Do we have a match?!" Katherine squealed.


    "Yep, and it''s soon because we''re starting so late in the year," Ben said, recalling what he read in the email he''d received that morning. "It''ll be in two weeks, so we''re going to need to practice like fools to ready for it."


    "AAAAH!" Katherine squealed, jumping up and down while shaking Gary like a ragdoll. "We''ve got a match! What kind is it?!"


    Ben smirked.


    "Hero Hunt... That''s all for today. Take a few moments while we have the field to ourselves to get some practice with your powers. We''ve got another twenty minutes before it''s time to leave, so let''s see what we can get through!"


    "Wait!" Michael said, decloaking from behind the crowd. "What about me?"


    "What about you?"


    "Aren''t you going to go over my power and show me something?"


    "I marked you absent because you weren''t here when we started. As far as I''m concerned, you skipped practice."


    "But I was here!"


    "Really? Did anyone notice when Michael arrived?"


    The other kids shook their heads, looking sorrowfully at the invisible kid as he scoffed at his own antics.


    "C''mon, I was totally here! I wouldn''t skip!"


    "It''s true," Katherine shrugged. "I mean, he''s always late, but... he always shows up."


    "I already gave you a warning," Ben cautioned. "I don''t work with nonsense. Be here on time or don''t show up at all.... Can you see yourself when you''re invisible?"


    "No," Michael sighed.


    "Alright, well turn invisible for a second."


    Michael did so, then Ben took a bean bag out of his jacket pocket and tossed it to him. The bean bag hit something, fell, was hit by a flailing arm, then fell onto the ground.


    "You''re gonna practice getting your body where you want even when you can''t see it. Get ready, because I''m not going easy on you."

 Chapter 7 - Team Dynamics

    The following Friday, Benjamin sat in his office, typing happily on his computer when a knock at the door shocked him back into reality.


    "The Holts and I are getting Indian," Hannah said. "Want some?"


    "Sure, Ben said, turning around in his chair. "Monsoon Cuisine, right? I love their Tiki Masala, just get me a lunch special of that."


    "Cool, anything else?"


    "Nope," Ben said, watching Hannah as she eyed him expectantly. "Something wrong?"


    "Can we talk some time... about what happened?"


    "How about this weekend?" Ben suggested. "We can meet at my place, say noon?"


    "That sounds good," Hannah said, wringing her shirt. "I just wanted to apologize if I made anything... awkward."


    "I''ve been far too dissected to care about awkwardness. Let''s talk about it then, shall we?"


    "Of course," Hannah said, turning around stiffly to relay the order to the Holt couple.


    Benjamin looked back at his screen where three simple formations were written and detailed for a four-man superhero team. They were a simple offense formation, a formidable defense formation, and a scatter formation. He had only been training the students for a week, but they were all making progress in such leaps and bounds that Ben wanted to reciprocate their effort. By their powers combined they would be a truly formidable team, but they needed to be aware of how to use their powers in a cooperative setting.


    For this effort, Ben recalled what he knew about superhero protocol and the teams he used to fight. He broke down where their teamwork was lacking and where it would accel with combination attacks. He was having so much fun coordinating a team that was obligated to listen to him, he got lost in the creative process and wrote half a novel worth of power combinations and counters for potential dangers. He even filled in gaps in his hero tactics with his military training. There was something he enjoyed about writing out his experiences that trapped him until he got it all out. He had to regularly remind himself that these were kids, and would most likely disregard his advice, but it was fun nonetheless.


    He printed it out at home, however. He didn''t want the municipal employees to think he was taking his coaching position more seriously than his duties as a councilman.


    When it was time for Ben to clock out as city councilman and meet with his team, he met Hannah on the way out the door. She had been watching for when he would leave and started toward him to make it seem more coincidental, even though his dimensional sight saw straight through her intentions.


    "Hey, I was just curious," Hannah said through her scarf, "I did some research on the Gentleman, and came up with a video I think you''d want to see."


    "Is it the Ymir interview where he insults me constantly?" Ben guessed. "I''ve seen it a hundred times, and I almost bombed the studio for giving him the platform."


    "No, this one is with Constance," Hannah said, handing her phone to Ben where a video was queued to play.


    Ben took the phone and watched the video as the duo crossed the parking lot. It was a standard interview setup where a professional journalist in a business suit hosted across from a member of the spandex brigade in bright yellow and blue.


    The title of the video:


    Why The Gentleman is the most DANGEROUS villain


    "Now, we''ve had a few questions entered by the guests," the host mentioned, pulling a piece of paper from a folder. "And one of the most favorited questions is: Who do you think is the most dangerous villain you''ve ever fought?"


    The freak in a costume considered the question with a modicum of hesitation, then asked very plainly, "Do you mean the one that put me in the most danger, or the one with the most potential danger?"


    "Would those be different answers?" the host chuckled.


    "Yes, but I can answer both," the hero offered amicably. "For the one who almost killed me was definitely SawBlade. My power is, as you know, suspend animation of anything I touch. But his power was in the same vein as mine, in that he could take anything solid he touched and warp it to his will. It was almost my direct counter, because he could warp anything I suspended. I was lucky that our powers overlapped at all, because he offered to work together and that was where he let his guard down.


    "As for potential danger, I would have to guess The Gentleman."


    There was a murmur from the crowd, before the host asked, "And who is this ''The Gentleman''?"


    "He was a B-list supervillain from-"


    Laughter erupted from crowd, but was quickly silenced by the host, who was interested in the story.


    "Does The Gentleman also have a power that counters yours?"


    "Nobody knows what his power is," Constance stated, "in fact, even the Hero Department doesn''t know for certain. He''s primarily used gadgets and cunning ploys, but with a level of advanced technology that has most people believing he can see into the future. However, he''s shown no physical abilities greather than a professional athlete''s, leaving some to believe he has no powers and is merely a genius."


    "I can see a lot more than that," Ben grumbled, waiting next to his truck with his eyes stinging from the cold as he patiently watched to see where this was going.


    "And how exactly does a B-lister strike fear into your heart?" the host asked.


    "Well, it''s important to remember that the ordered rank of supervillains is based on monetary damaged they''ve caused, with the highest of the A-tier being almost incalculable. That being said, the person directly behind The Gentleman in the rankings is Maximorpheus, the Dream Eater who leveled Chicago. Which means that, through pure cunning and surgical precision, he''s more dangerous than a city-destroying monster. And I personally don''t think we''ve seen the extent of his capabilities."


    "Have you ever fought The Gentleman personally, or is this just something you''ve come to realize through the news."


    "I fought him once, and it was the first big failure as a hero," Constance coughed as he remembered. "It was early in my career and I was with the New Orleans Mad Dogs trying to prove myself. The Gentleman had robbed an art museum showcasing Van Gogh''s most famous painting, Starry Night. We had called reinforcements and were just trying to stall for time, but the Gentleman came prepared. My teammates were Elephantine, Crystaline, Junior Quasar, and Madam Might, and they were taken apart like they were nothing. For Elephantine, he shot him with a tranquilizer dart that interacted with his elephant DNA and caused him to enter a mad frenzy that I was told later is called musth. Crystaline stayed behind to try and calm her down because even an elephant''s strength couldn''t break Crystal''s crystal form.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "The rest of us chased The Gentleman into a part of the museum that was under repairs, and we should have just held the line and waited for backup, because he''d been planning for us to follow and set up traps. Madam Might went first because she had a higher defense than us and had a much faster reaction time, so we thought she could catch whatever The Gentleman could throw at us. As we entered the maintenance section, we had to cross a simple red tape line that warned about ongoing maintenance. When Madam Might grabbed it to go under, she suddenly jumped straight into the cieling. The Gentleman had placed an electric wire inside of the tape and it had electrocuted our team lead. She wasn''t dead, thank god, but she was out cold.


    "Now it was just me and Junior Quasar, so we continued because we wanted to be heroes and heroes stop the bad guys. Well, we were scared shitless (uhp, sorry, can''t swear on TV), but we were going through this dark industrial section when a bright light erupted behind us. I turned around ready to fight, but I heard this crash as Junior Quasar collapsed onto the floor beside me. It''s since been revealed that Quasar''s power is disrupted by microwaves, but nobody knew that at the time, not even Quasar."


    "How did the Gentleman know?" the interviewer asked in concern.


    "We don''t know," Constance said, "but I''ll touch on that in a moment. There I was, face-to-face with a guy wearing a top hat, tuxedo, and spooky mask that was smiling at me when I''m shaking in my boots. (My outfit had boots at the time.) I remember this next part very clearly, because he spoke to me. He told me that my power was tricky, but he was going to try a few things. Well, I did what I always do and put my body into suspended animation, making it quantumly unchanging. I couldn''t move, I hadn''t quite mastered my power at the time, but the Gentleman just pointed a gun at me and fired it.


    "That gun turned everything around me and everything behind me into a gas, including the concrete walls and rebar supports inside of them. I was unphased, heat can''t effect me when I''m suspended, but then my heart started racing when he said, ''Time for Plan B.'' I was a little braver after seeing his plan fail, but he pulls out what looks like a polished sphere of aluminum and just tosses it at me. I can''t look down, but the next thing I know, my view of everything is like shattered glass. Cracks were everywhere, then they started to repair themselves, going away gradually as the Gentleman just watches.


    "Then he says, ''Plan C it is.'' I won''t go through everything, but he got to Plan G before he pulled out something that could get past my suspension. It was a sword that glowed along the edge with a purple-blue tint. He swung the sword at me, but was interrupted by a crash from the ceiling as the Hero Department''s ace squad arrived. The Gentleman had to run, but he dropped the sword and I was finally able to release my suspension and see if Quasar was okay. I managed to wake him up and he just frowns and reaches up to touch my neck. I wanna ask what he''s doing, until I saw the blood on his fingers."


    "Nooo," the interviewer denied, but Constance nodded his head ''yes''.


    "That sword was capable of reality warping, making uncuttable things cuttable once more. It''s like it was specifically designed to kill me. The Gentleman was eventually captured, and the entire New Orleans Mad Dogs had to go through judicial review for our incompetence in the case, as the destruction of the museum had collapsed a basement warehouse with valuable materials inside of it. We were put on unpaid leave for three months while an investigation was done, and it put me right in my place when we were released. Because the Gentleman had designed every single trap specifically to take down the Mad Dogs.


    "That dart that sent Elephantine into a frenzy had his own blood cells in it, so that it would be accepted by the bloodstream more easily. Since Crystaline was dating Elephantine and was the most capable to save him, she was the obvious choice to stay behind. The electrical charge that floored Madam Might? It contained enough electricity to fry four fully grown men, but it was the exact maximum amount of volts and amps to incapacitate her specifically. I already told you about the microwave grenade, and it seemed like he was just using me as an experiment for weapons development."


    "So, he planned the whole thing?"


    "From start to finish," Constance confirmed, "and it went exactly how he wanted it. Now, there''s an anecdote that I''d like to add, because it''s important to understand what the Gentleman is capable of. I was speaking with a friend of mine, Bogus, who has a five-second rewind power and can erect time acceleration barriers. He was also met with the Gentleman, who similarly used him like a little experiment. But with Bogus, The Gentleman went all the way down to Plan T, which was a black hole device."


    There was an eerie silence as the room contemplated the meaning of his words.


    "Bogus had to surrender to not risk destroying the entire world, but he managed to ask how many plans the villain actually had. Apparently, Plan T was only a third of them."


    After a long moment of silence, the interviewer fixed his posture and said, "Let me see if I''ve got this straight: The Gentleman, a background villain that nobody has ever heard of, has access to world-ending technology, and the Hero Department isn''t concerned with him at all?"


    "He got what he wanted," Constance stated.


    "Who? The Gentleman? What exactly did he get?"


    "Ymir. Ymir was the only hero that The Gentleman ever seemed interested in. And when Ymir went missing three years ago, I assume The Gentleman finally got what he was after."


    "It''s true," Ben chuckled, handing the phone back to his intern. "I got what I wanted and left. Few people are ever so level-headed to recognize when they have a good thing going."


    "But, what he said, about you being the most d-d-dangerous," Hannah stammered. "Is that... true?"


    "No," Ben denied immediately. "Well, I suppose I could be. Big Man is far more dangerous."


    "The number one hero, Big Man? Why? What''s he got that''s so dangerous?"


    "He''s able to defy the laws of physics."


    "So? You''ve got black hole machines and space technology."


    "Yes, but those things rely on physics to operate. They wouldn''t do a thing to Big Man. Let''s talk later, I need to hurry over to the school."


    "I never asked," Hannah said as Ben climbed into his truck, "how is it teaching those kids?"


    "Exhausting," Ben stated, slamming the door, "but fun."


    =====================================================


    "You want to give us homework?!" Michael demanded angrily, shaking the effort of Ben''s week in his face.


    "It''s standard hero affair to work as a team," Ben reasoned, glancing around the library at the other members of the team. "This is a few team formations that I think you guys would get a lot of mileage out of. The first ten pages will be homework, the rest will be for anyone who wants to win the hero sports."


    Katherine was already rifling through the fifty page book, getting an idea of what sort of homework this would be. Garrett and Gary were just reading the first ten pages, already doing the assignment. Stanley just let the book rest on the side and was getting his regular homework done.


    "This is amazing!" Katherine exclaimed. "We need to try these out!"


    "We''ll be doing team practices next week," Ben said, offering a slight incentive to read the book. "We''ll also be doing spars between members to see where each of you lack and to get a sense of violence against real people."


    This caused Stanley to glance up, but quickly bow his head again. This wasn''t the first time he seemed to take notice of hero activities, but he always just kept it to himself. Ben didn''t know what exactly was going on inside his mind, but he didn''t really care. Still, there was a small hint.


    Inside of Stanley''s locker that Ben happened to notice with his sight, was a notebook held down by a dozen textbooks. Inside of the notebook was a journal with the most sickening, viscous, fanboy hero worship Ben had ever seen. There were even crude stencils of heroes in erotic poses with their spandex tighter than usual. The first time Ben noticed it, he got a shiver down his spine from how creepy and sickening it was, but then he noticed some old assignments in the locker with Stanley''s name on them, things started to click.


    "How are any of these going to help us in the Hero Hunt?" Michael demanded, noting the formations. "Isn''t it only one person at a time?"


    "It''s groups versus one at a time," Katherine corrected, "but Michael''s right, none of these formations help us in the hero hunt."


    "On page forty-eight, it says that not every situation can be accounted for, which is why planning is best done immediately before the game. Which is why, the day before every competition, we''ll be having a strategy meeting to discuss what sort of tactics would be best for winning. It''s also important for all of you to be in the correct mindset."


    "What mindset is that?" Gary asked.


    "The mindset that someone is trying to stop you, and you are going to do everything in your power to do it anyway."

 Chapter 8 - The Hero Hunt

    Ben was dumbfounded. Shocked. Shook. Suffering from a catastrophic loss of thoughts and feeling, his mind still reeling from the unmitigated disaster of the Hero Hunt.


    The big game day had started off so well, and even the week before was excellent. Team coordination practice was absolutely stellar, considering they were children, and every single formation was drilled into them by the end of the week. On Friday, the entire group came up with gameplan strategies, even Stanley pitched in with little bits of advice. Ben had printed out some photos of the park they were going to be battling over to come up with more nuanced tactics. It was a mostly open field with some trees at the edges where the game was to be held.


    The following day, they all packed into a school van and drove forty minutes to the field. When they arrived, there were parents setting up chairs to watch their kids play hero, and Ben suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach when he saw the opposing team.


    Not a single one of them looked like they could hold a candle to his own team, even Stanley. They were skinny, fat, anemic, pimple-ridden teens without an ounce of discipline or cohesion on the sidelines. The coach wasn''t even present, one of the parents had to fill in and act as a coach.


    Ben''s team on the other hand, conducted themselves like special operators on vacation in a warzone. They had their eyes open, gauging threats, discerning powers from the homemade costumes the other team wore while trying to act as nonchalant as child actors could. They even all wore uniforms, something Ben splurged on because of his idea to pretend to be a sports team. What''s worse, Katherine even huddled the participating members together and gave them some last minute game plans she came up with for victory.


    Ben kept his worries to himself, and secretly hoped that the opposing team was more powerful than they appeared.


    No such luck.


    Hero Hunt is simply a game of tag where one five-man team chases down each member of the opposing team one at a time. The teams then switch positions so that the team being chased is now doing the chasing. Each round consists of a single chaser given five minutes, points are awarded whenever the chasing team tags the solo member of the opposing side, or when a solo can go thirty seconds without being tagged. The idea being to practice survival if you''re a hero outnumbered by villains, and to not let the villain escape if he tries to run.


    Jefferson High had their solo up first with Stanley, who didn''t even move from his spot to get out as quickly as possible. Scranton team thought this was some ploy and gave him a full minute as they tried to goad him into using his powers. When one of them finally rushed in and tapped Stanley, he shrugged and got cheers from Katherine that the kid who didn''t want to play got them a full two points. Gary then insisted that Stanley at least run around a bit so they wouldn''t lose so many points, but the Scranton kids were so weak, they only got Stanley two more times, even with their powers.


    It was an absolute massacre after that. Ben was crying on the inside as his team scored point after point, Michael cracking jokes at the poor kids who couldn''t touch his invisible form. The sheer mockery of it all was torture to the councilman, who just knew he would be getting strongly worded emails from the parents for his coaching. At least Katherine kept her fire reasonable, not torching any of the kids and only using it as a barrier to slip between a pincer attack.


    Gary turned out to be the biggest problem, regularly shouting insults at the top of his lungs whenever he built a quick construct to avoid being tagged. It was absolutely toxic behavior, and not something Ben though about fixing during training.


    When it was half-time, Jefferson High was up by nine points, a near impossible feat for the disadvantaged side of the hero hunt. Luckily, he was able to meet with his team during halftime, and he begged them to not absolutely mop the floor with these kids.


    They did not heed his pleas.


    The referee had to call the hero hunt short because Ben''s team was up fifty-six to fifteen and the last child was crying himself silly at the thought of having to face four absolute menaces and a disinterested bystander. It would have been called a mercy in any other game, but the entire parent section of the Scranton side were collectively glaring Ben down.


    Katherine cheered and led the three other active participants in a war cry that tore at Ben''s soul as he imagined how awful the Scranton kids must feel being absolutely destroyed by a first-time team with a part-time coach.


    On the trip back, Ben said nothing, too stunned to even formulate words as he realized he may have dug a deep grave for himself. If it ever got out that his team bullied other teams, his poll numbers would enter freefall and he could kiss a mayoral run goodbye. Hell, his councilman position might even be in jeopardy if word got around. He considered bombing one of the other kid''s vehicles to mask the tragedy of their performance with a greater tragedy, but decided against it for fear that it would make the devastating loss even more tragic.


    He just drove him in mostly silence as the five-hero squad in the back cracked malicious jokes at their opponents looks and powers. He felt a little sick, almost like a bully mentoring other bullies.


    When they got back to the school, the parents were already waiting to pick their kids up, and Ben noticed that Stanley''s older brother James was driving him home. Once all the cars were gone, Ben numbly went back to his truck and drove home.


    Back at his house, he was surprised when he first noticed Hannah had let herself in. He entered in a daze, confronted by Idet and Hannah immediately through the door.


    "How did the game... go?" Hannah asked, changing her tone halfway through when she noticed Ben''s distant expression.


    "Did you lose?" Idet asked in concern.


    "No," Ben said, leaning against the wall for support, "too much the opposite.... I just... I spent so much effort training them to win... I didn''t think about how they would behave if they actually won."


    "What do you mean?" Hannah asked, and Ben unfolded the whole story. "Oh, who cares? They lost and you won, isn''t that all that matters?"


    "No!" Ben almost shouted. "Winning is one thing, but being cruel and pretentious about it is too far!"


    "You''re a villain! Isn''t cruel pretention kind of in the job description?"


    "I was never cruel for the sake of my own enjoyment, and I was certainly never pretentious without a reason! This was just... it was like watching someone strangle a kitten! A kitten who only bit you because it grew up on the streets, it was just... evil."


    "You... didn''t happen to teach them to be evil, did you?" Idet asked curiously.


    "Certainly not, I was just going over tactics and... oh my god."


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    "What?"


    "The training!" Ben shouted, running out to his truck and grabbing the fifty page book he''d assimilated. "I''d been putting it together from what I knew the heroes do and some of my special forces training! Fuck! This is a fucking high school sports team, these topics are too advanced for them!"


    "You overtrained your team?" Hannah chuckled. "Are you serious, is that really your problem?"


    "You don''t get it! This manual is just the most effective, efficient methods that I could think of when meta-humans fight! This is what I would do if I had a team! But I''m a professional! These guys are amatuers! And their opponents are all amatuers! How did I not think of it! I should have given them some basic advice and just did some regular exercises!"


    As Ben was tearing his hair out stressing over the now over-powered team he was mishandling, Hannah started breaking down into a fit of capricious laughter. She couldn''t control herself, almost falling over holding her gut as Ben looked on, unamused.


    "What?" he demanded, but Hannah was wheezing too hard to breathe. "Idet, do you find this amusing as well?"


    "Quite a lot, actually," Idet answered, "but I lack the ability to laugh, so I shall merely enjoy the irony."


    "What exactly is the irony in this situation?" Ben growled angrily.


    "You''re a fucking supervillain!" Hannah wheezed. "And yet- and yet- and yet you''re freaking out over winning because it''s- it''s unfair! HAAAAA HAHAHA HAAAAA!"


    Ben was fuming that he was being laughed at, but considered the outside perspective and chuckled a little, "I guess there is humor to be found in a villain talking about fair play. But, still! These kids are not supposed to be this powerful!"


    "Well, what were the other side''s powers?" Hannah asked.


    "There was a frog-man, a girl who could shoot jets out of her ankles, a guy who could jump really high, a girl with night vision, and a guy who could swallow things and compact them in his throat."


    "Was the frog-man the crybaby?"


    "Yes, why?"


    "I just assumed, because Garrett is a snake-man, that the frog would be afraid."


    Ben ignored his intern as she laughed herself silly, considering his options.


    "I need to destroy the books," he decided. "All at once would be suspicious, I should do it one or two at a time. No, but then they could just copy the books, or they would ask for MY copy. Hrm."


    "Why don''t you just amend the book with a copy that has less effective methods?" Hannah suggested.


    "No, they would eventually realize what I''d done after they lose a few rounds.... I guess I''ll have to shame them. Hopefully they aren''t all psychopaths."


    =====================================================================


    Monday rolled around once more and Ben drove to hero practice while reciting in his head the speech he''d come up with over the weekend. It might be a little strong, but it was necessary to keep his image clean.


    The meeting was in the library again, something originally planned to review their battle from Saturday and reorganize their thoughts on what went well and what went wrong. Ben was a little surprised to see that the kids were already in the library, discussing new strategies without him. Katherine was leading the talk, still giddy from their overwhelming victory. Gary and Garret were being bros, bringing up the best parts of the match and where everyone did their best, passing around congratulations like confetti. Michael was the damp towel, talking trash about what points they lost and how they should have won. Stanley was doing Pre-calculus homework.


    "Evening, heroes," Ben greeted as he entered the library, putting on a sour expression, "not that you''re anywhere near heroes."


    "C''mon," Katherine interjected, "we won the match!"


    "But how did you win the match, hm?" Ben demanded, slamming his large binder on the table in fake anger. "Because what I saw out there was about as far from heroic as you could possibly get! As soon as you knew those kids were going to be no match for you, you should have dialed it back, gave them some room, maybe even played a few points off. But what you actually did...."


    Ben continued his act by glaring at each member in turn, witnessing children reflect on their actions with dour expressions.


    "You guys were merciless," Ben argued, "unrelenting, unrepenting, and at the end of it all, you rubbed your victories in their faces! That is NOT what heroes do! That is not how heroes act!... That''s what villains do! That''s how villains act! Are you guys thinking about becoming supervillains? Because I am not going to be coaching evil bastard psychopaths!"


    The swearing caught the team off guard, having been used to teachers and faculty who regulate their language. The heavy feeling on their chests deepened, except Stanley, who was listening with a bit of amusement.


    "But if that''s how you want it, then congratulations! You just made a bunch of kids cry because you thought it was FUNNY!"


    Gary sniffled a little as he fought back a tear. Katherine and Michael just reservedly looked at the floor, unable to say anything. Garrett was zoned out, replaying his behavior on the field through a lens of the other team.


    "Read these," Ben said, opening his binder and pulling out three pieces of printer paper with the emails of angry parents. "I got these emails over the weekend, and I know I''m going to get more this week. Two of these emails are about three kids who want to quit their dreams of being heroes because you guys were such assholes, and that third one is about a kid who cut herself because of you animals."


    In reality, only the crushing dreams emails were real. Ben had fabricated the self-harm one to really drive the point home that their behavior could have the most serious consequences. But already, the team was suffering from a massive guilt trip. Even Stanley was starting to feel it, even though he was barely involved.


    "Our next game is in three weeks," Ben informed. "Capture-the-flag. I don''t know if the team is going to be as weak as our last match, but I will guarantee that you all will behave like responsible heroes. Because if you don''t, I won''t be here the week after."


    The city councilman let the kids stew in their own thoughts, then played victim.


    "I''ll accept my part in this," he said, causing the kids to look up at him. "I was so focused on making you guys the strongest there was, I didn''t think to teach you how to control that strength. But that''s what this week will be about. We''re going to be training light attacks and softer ability usage. You guys are going to learn how to use only as much power as necessary. And you''d best believe we''re going to go over behavioral ethics! I''m going to make sure this email is the last complaint I ever get."


    Ben stood back and let the kids wallow in guilt and shame, letting them marinate until he got into the real meat of his guilt tripping.


    "We''ll start the review," Ben said, taking a seat and eyeing Michael. "Michael, care to share how you could have done better in the Hero Hunt?"


    "I," he sniffed, "probably shouldn''t have cheered when I won the chase."


    "Really?" Ben sarcastically accused. "Nothing to say about mocking the other team while they were doing their best to catch you?"


    "I-I was trying to throw them off," the invisible boy excused. "I thought it was a good strategy."


    "I told him to do that," Katherine admitted, burying her head in her arms.


    Ben acknowledged it was a good strategy to get inside the opponent''s head, he''d done it quite a lot during his tenure as The Gentleman.


    He did not admit this out loud.


    Ben took each high schooler in turn and dissected their performance on the field, especially Gary, who was almost in tears by the end of his analysis.


    When Ben was done, he finished with a carefully edited monologue he''d been preparing while he was supposed to be reviewing the financial records of the parks department.


    "It''s one thing to strategize, train, and work your hardest to win," he began. "That''s how everyone does it, heroes and villains alike. The difference is always in what you''re willing to do and how you''re willing to cement victory. A villain will sacrifice anything, except themselves, to win, while a hero often sacrifices themselves. In the future, you should always keep something in mind whenever you''re making a plan, in sports as in heroism:


    "Don''t be worse than the people you''re trying to stop."


    Hannah had laughed in his face when he was practicing the speech, but he really felt like that line was the most necessary. This came from his experience grand standing as a villain, as well as reviewing some of the greatest speeches of all time and space. The last thing you say should have the greatest impact, and also keep people thinking about your speech once it''s done.


    Ben got up to leave, but he was stopped by Katherine, who put an arm out to block his path.


    "I''m not sorry," she said, even though she was clearly struggling with her words. "Being a hero is not a game. If you''re too weak, you shouldn''t even try. You''ll just get everyone else hurt with you. Sportsmanship is unheroic."


    Ben knelt down until he was level with the fire-breather, and said in the coldest tone of voice, "Trying saying that again when you''re an actual hero, and not a member of a high school sports team. Maybe I''ll believe you."

 Chapter 9 - A Minor Dispute

    It was already Monday two weeks after agreeing to coach the high school heroes team and he was already regretting the decision. This realization came after he had just watched the children redouble their efforts in training to become stronger, both with their powers and their bodies.


    Even after the bullying session of last time, they had clearly learnt nothing from his self-prescribed epic speech. Katherine had parsed out half of the hour the team had to work out, and the other half to practice their powers. Gary and Garrett were as submissive to the red head as ever, but even Stanley started to exercise to increase their odds of victory in the next game. Michael worked out with the rest, but acted as more of a supporting role so the rest of the team became familiar with his invisibility. It would have been inspiring, so long as you weren''t aware that they were training to destroy their competition mercilessly.


    It was all going wrong, and Ben was struggling to come up with a way to rein these wild horses in. In his past, he would have just murdered one of them so they were stuck with an incomplete team, but these were kids and he didn''t want his future mayoral run to be hampered by tragedy. Dead kids tend to stick to your name in a non-mayoral fashion. Plus he would have to pretend to be agrieved, and that wasn''t happening.


    That left him with one option.


    Sabotage.


    =========================================================================


    At the office on a very pleasantly warm Wednesday, Ben was typing away when he noticed a particular fireman walking within eyesight of his office.


    "James!" Ben called, feigning a simple small town gossip interest. "Come here, I want to talk to you."


    The fireman glanced nervously around, hoping to find some excuse to not interact with the non-human. When none appeared, he approached cautiously trying not to make it obvious how painful he found it.


    "Is everything okay?" the Humanity First member asked, being careful to stay outside of the office.


    "Yes, I just noticed that Stanley is your brother! Chevis, right?"


    James'' reaction was to keep his expression still, but the little bit of disgust he showed through muscle flexes showed Ben he was on the right path.


    "Yes, that''s my little brother. Is he behaving himself?"


    "Gosh, he''s great," Ben stated. "He''s been practicing so much recently, it''s been really inspiring to the rest of the team!"


    "That''s great to hear," James said, trying not to grit his teeth.


    "He''s probably the best strategic mind in the group," Ben said, "and he''s even been helping the others with their powers! His insight is just magnificent."


    James heart rate was steadily increasing as he choked out, "I''ll have to give him some congratulations when I get home."


    "Well, I don''t mean to pry, but," Ben set the stage, "do you know why he doesn''t use his power?"


    "He can''t control it," James immediately said. "It''s a personal issue, but it can be serious."


    "Oh my! That sounds terrible.... Well, I won''t pry any further. Anything interesting happening in the fire department?"


    James deflected the pleasantries conversation with a quick, "Nothing really, although one of the fire engines is on the fritz and I''m looking into it. Speaking of, I should get going."


    "Oh, then I won''t keep you. Nice talking to you!"


    As James exited Ben''s doorway, he shuddered just out of sight, then scowled to himself as he made a decision on what to do about his little brother.


    Ben smiled upon seeing this, leaning back in his chair and wondering what magnificent mayhem might unfold from his meddling. Now he just needed a way to get at the other kids.


    ============================================================================================


    At their meeting that night, Ben made sure to mention when he saw Stanley that he had a conversation with his brother, the fireman. The color drained from Stanley''s face and his heart rate spiked.


    "Are you alright?" Ben asked with fake concern.


    "My brother doesn''t like meta-humans," Stanley admitted. "None of my family like meta-humans."


    "What!?" Michael shouted. "But- but you''re meta!"


    "Yeah," Stanley sighed, dejectedly.


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    "Is that why you don''t use your power?" Katherine demanded.


    "I''m just bad at using my power. I can''t control it at all."


    "What, like, the power?"


    "The power, the range, the size, the weight, as soon as I try to use my power, it goes out of control and just ruins everything."


    "We were all like that at first," Gary said. "If I was daydreaming, random objects would just appear out of thin air and people would complain all the time."


    "Yeah, man, I would turn invisible at random times and scare the crap out of people," Michael laughed. "It takes some getting used to, but that''s why you need to use your power. If you''ve got no feeling for it, it can get out of control."


    "I burned down two sheds trying to practice my fire breathing," Katherine adjusted in her chair to look square at Stanley. "And when I first got my power, I almost burned down our house! But that''s why my family put together some fireproof-"


    Katherine cut herself off when she realized her supportive family allowed her to practice in relative safety. If Stanley''s family didn''t like meta-humans, he wouldn''t have support to get a hold of his power. He''d be totally new to it.


    "Let me ask you," Ben interjected, "not your family, not your brother, just you: Do you want to practice your power?"


    It was a simple question, but Stanley clearly wasn''t prepared for it.


    Of course, Ben was prepared for anything. If Stanley refused to practice his power, Ben would simply steer the future games into ones that would benefit enormously from Stanley''s power. As the games become increasingly difficult, Stanley would be pressured more and more to use his power. Ben would intervene as necessary to grease the gears of conflict until something snapped. Should Stanley want to practice his power, well, Ben just needed to get the family involved.


    Stanley couldn''t come to an answer, so Ben assuaged the teenager with a simple, "You don''t have to answer right now. You can talk to your family and get their position, but the decision will ultimately rest with you. Take your time, think it over."


    "Don''t worry, man," Garrett said, clapping the freshman on the back. "Whatever you say, we''ve got your back."


    Stanley was nervous, but the show of support to the young man was heart-warming to watch. The rest of the club time was spent brainstorming what levitation could do. If he was being honest, even Ben was curious exactly how this levitation worked, but he was willing to let it slide for the sake of his mayoral aspirations.


    When it was time to go home, Ben watched with his dimensional sight as the kids got into their respective family cars and he noticed the whole Chevis clan pull up in a truck. Ben noticed that the father also had a Humanity First tattoo, but the mother had a burn mark in the shape of the three triangles, almost like she was branded. The dad, incidentally, was built like a lumberjack with super-soldier serum in his veins. Besides some crusting around his arteries, the middle-aged man was the absolute picture of health, no doubt the reason behind Stanley''s own physique.


    Stanley seemed equally surprised that both of his parents showed up, and the conversation that ensued confused Ben to no end.


    "What do you think you''re doing?!" the dad yelled, getting out of the truck and aggressively slamming the door.


    "Dad!" Stanley exclaimed, frozen on the spot. "What are you doing here?"


    "Your brother told me what you''ve been doing," the dad accused as he made his way around the car. "How could you lie to me?! To us!?"


    "Dad, it was-"


    "Save it!" shouted the father loud enough for Ben to hear it from inside the thick school windows. "When we get home, I''m going to make sure you never even think about using your power again!"


    Ben felt something pull at his heart strings when the six-foot six-inches grown man grabbed his own son by the shirt and lifted him into the air with a clenched fist. He turned around where his wife opened the back seat and Stanley was tossed like a ragdoll into the truck. Once the young boy was in the back seat, the mother started slapping him and calling him the devil. She openly berated him for allowing sin into his heart and following the path of satan. Stanley balled up, defending himself from his own mother while the dad charged back around to the driver''s seat. They sped away with a screech of the tires, and Ben watched them go with a new weight on his shoulders.


    "Huh," he said to himself, "that hurts more than I thought it would."


    From that moment to the moment that Ben got home, his mind was occupied by Stanley. Perhaps he should have done more research on how volatile his home situation was before igniting it. He regularly glanced at his watch, considering undoing the dampener a few notches so he could see what the poor boy was going through.


    "Something wrong?" Idet asked, snapping Ben out of his trance.


    "I just... I think I''ve gotten rusty," he said, massaging his wrist.


    "What did you do?"


    "One of the kids, Stanley, has Humanity First parents and siblings. In trying to drag the team down, I brought his cooperation to their attention, but now I just... feel really bad about it."


    "It does seem rather nefarious."


    "But I''ve done worse!" Ben argued, puzzling his way into the kitchen for a glass of water. "Do you remember that guy, Green Dynamic, or something?"


    "Green Dynamo?"


    "Yeah, that guy! I did everything to him! Pretended to be his best friend, slept with his wife, got his kids kicked out of that expensive private school, I even framed him for murder! And it was hilarious! Yet this kid that I''ve known for less than a month is suddenly making me... guilty? That''s not right. Something''s not right!"


    "Perhaps it has to do with him being a child?"


    "No," Ben disagreed, "the Dynamo''s kids were actively starving by the end of it. Being a kid''s not the deal."


    "Is it ''responsibility''? Like it or not, you are now this kids coach. Perhaps you''ve compartmentalized Stanley as being someone ''under your care'' and are now suffering emotions because of how you have ''betrayed'' him."


    Ben considered Idet''s argument, but then another thought intruded.


    "Where the hell did that come from?"


    "I have been reading medical literature as it pertains to grief counselling and therapy in order to be of more help to Hannah," Idet explained.


    "Right," Ben rolled his eyes, thinking more about the situation. "You might be right. Of all the horrible things I''ve done, I''ve never done them to someone under my charge. God, what a fucking horrible reason to be feeling guilty."


    "Is Stanley like Hannah, someone who has experienced abuse?"


    "No," Ben said, "at least, not physically. Maybe he gets insulted by his family, but that can be resolved with a serial killings in future.... Here''s what I''m going to do, I''m going to hold out on this horrible feeling and hope that it resolves itself."


    "That seems inefficient."


    "Perhaps," Ben acknowledged, drinking some water to soothe his throat, "but it''s best to leave things to a natural course of actions once I''ve interfered. If I do too much, they might catch on."

 Chapter 10 - Humanity First

    Things did not blow over as easily as Ben hoped.


    It wasn''t even the next day when Ben got a call from the principal that he was having a parent-coach conference instead of hero practice. Stanley Chevis''s parents wanted to have a word with him.


    He went through the day preparing for the meeting, almost missing a vote on public park seat installation. While Humanity First were not a large group, a lot of people sympathized with them about how difficult it is to live like normal humans in a world with meta-humans. Some powers involved literal guns for hands, which didn''t help when those people became villains.


    On the drive to the school, Ben glanced over at his glove compartment, wondering if this might devolve into violence. He considered they wouldn''t harm him on school grounds, but couldn''t be certain.


    When he arrived, he noticed that the other kids were waiting by the entrance with serious expressions.


    "What are you guys doing?" Ben asked, pulling up to the entrance. "Practice was cancelled today."


    "We''re here for backup," Michael declared, balling his fists and knocking his knuckles.


    "Backup for what?" Ben asked as if he hadn''t expected this.


    "We know what Stanley''s mother is like," Katherine stated. "She''s confronted each of us, and she was arrested when she tried to hit Garrett."


    "The bitch is crazy," the snake boy corroborated.


    "If she goes sicko mode, you''re gonna need one of us there to support you," Katherine declared while cracking her knuckles.


    Ben was almost proud. To see these kids ban together like a real team under his tutelage was wonderfully heartwarming, and for them to even prepare to defend him brought a tear to his eye. Especially since he hadn''t brainwashed them or altered their memories.


    "I appreciate the offer," Ben said, "but if the parents see you here, they''re going to assume that I''m making you do this."


    "But we can''t just leave you like this!" Gary shouted a bit too loudly. "She''s a real Karen! Even the principal can''t do anything about her!"


    "Guys, listen to me," Ben began, turning his engine off so he could be heard. "The best way to convince people that you''re not a threat is be being the least threatening people out there. It won''t be pretty, and it won''t be easy, but if you hold out for longer than they can go after you, then you''ve won the war. The truest victory is to keep your enemy from getting what they want. If they want you to go crazy, do everything in your power to stay sane. If they want you to retaliate, forgive them. If they want you to throw the first punch, make sure you only throw the second.


    "And especially remember this: The best revenge is to not be like your enemy. Now go home!"


    The kids glanced at each other as Ben drove to park. When he got to the school doors, they were already gone.


    Ben entered the halls of education and felt like maybe he should have taken those kids up on their offer, because the halls of education were packed with men and women emitting such hatred and murderous aura that he could almost see his own death. Stanley''s mom must have called in some backup of her own.


    "I''m telling you all for medical and legal reasons," Ben announced with a twisted grin, "but my power radiates five feet around me at all times."


    He started towards the designated conference room with the entire Humanity First thuggery giving him a wide berth.


    When he got to the door, he met three of the largest men who refused to move. They were standing in the short hallway before the door, and nothing was going to move them.


    Ben asked very politely, "Pardon me, but I''ve got a meeting in this room."


    The men didn''t move, nor did they answer. Ben simply pulled out his phone, causing one of the men to scoff. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a real officer''s badge from Littleton, the next town over. Ben scoffed as well, opening his phone and dialing a number.


    "Yes, I''m right outside," Ben said loud enough to be heard. "No I''m just having a conversation with the gentlemen out here."


    Ben let out a cheeky smile the moment before the door opened and the men had to step aside to let the principal through. The school official seemed to recognize what was happening and shuffled Ben into the classroom.


    The principal was an elderly, balding man with a beer gut and a chin strap. His name was William Avery, but most of the kids just called him ''Prince'', the same way the biggest guy in school is called ''Tiny''. He wore a classic business suit as any professional should, but with a silly tie that was probably amusing for the kids.


    Also in the classroom were Stanley''s brick wall of a dad, his tiny, huffy mother in a mumu, and Stanley himself, looking no physically worse for wear. Even under his clothes he had no bruises or injuries, but Ben saw deeper. There were toxins in his stomach, something that was burning the mucus wall away and giving him indigestion. It looked like hand soap, but could just as easily be laundry detergent.


    Ben did his best not to react, but even he could see his face muscles twitch slightly trying to contain himself.


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    "Mrs. and Mr. Chevis, this is Mr. Hersh, your son''s coach," the principal introduced.


    Ben was about to begin the explanation of his power in an attempt to make these people more amicable towards him, but Mrs. Chevis stood up and yelled at the top of her voice, "HOW DARE YOU CORRUPT MY SON, DEVIL!"


    "BARB!" her husband shouted before his wife could cross the room and throttle Ben. "I will handle this.... Sit. DOWN."


    The wife crumpled under her husband''s strict gaze, falling back into her seat without dropping her malicious gaze that threatened to kill her local councilman.


    "Before we begin, it''s only right that I explain how my power works, for legal and medical reasons-"


    "We know your sinful ways!" Mr. Chevis hissed. "James told us all about how you reveal people''s secrets!"


    "I can see through anything within five feet of me," Ben corrected, trying to keep his voice steady. "I am personally sworn to secrecy."


    "Lies!" the wife accused, jolting her chair forward while remaining seated. "You spread rumors just the way the devil tells you! Privacy means nothing to you."


    "That''s rather insulting," Ben offered weakly. "I had a friend with colon cancer, but he thought my power was creepy and made me promise never to tell him if I saw anything.... Call me ugly, call me crazy, call me stupid..., but never call me a liar or a busybody. If I''m allowed a right to privacy, I should allow others the right to theirs."


    "I don''t like the way you talk," the husband accused.


    "As a politician, I get that a lot," Ben joked, and felt a warm spark on his flinty heart when Stanley''s dad cracked a smile for the briefest moment.


    Perhaps one of the parents was capable of being saved.


    "Mr. and Mrs. Chevis," the principal quickly interrupted, "could you please reiterate the grievance you filed against Mr. Hersh?"


    "He''s corrupting our son-!"


    The father put a hand out to stop his wife before she went any further, "We specifically requested that any usage of our son''s power be brought to our attention, and that he be kept from using it outside of an emergency! Yet I''m hearing that you''re making him use his power anyway!"


    "I am not," Ben denied. "No one is, at least at practice. Stanley, are there-"


    "Don''t proposition my son," the mother cried.


    Ben paused for a long time, holding back the thousands of witty retorts that came to his filthy, dirty mind. He seemed to be the only one who recognized how the phrasing may be misconstrued, although Stanley''s dad was straining his neck mightily to hold back laughter.


    "Okay," Ben slowly returned to sanity, "did your son mention that any of the hero team members were making him use his power?"


    Everyone turned to Stanley for his answer, but he just shook his head.


    "Well, it certainly wasn''t me."


    "DO YOU HAVE ANY PROOF?!" shouted the mother, and Ben had to suppress a smile.


    And now for the masterclass of what Ben had been preparing since he accepted the role as coach of children. The library, the open field next to the school, the football field where the hero team had been practicing all had security cameras pointed directly at where Ben had been staging their practices. He had been compiling the footage all day thanks to a school board member who had access to the footage and a hate boner for Mrs. Chevis. He had even cropped certain vantages so that Stanley was more visible and a few of the more dangerous moments were missed. He even had timestamped tapes of him leaving, because he always made sure to park in the lot where a camera could see him.


    "With pleasure," Ben stated, pulling out his phone and airdropping the fast forward version to everyone in the room, and a few people in the halls. It was black and white with a red circle around Stanley as he sat down and did homework for an hour, then just relaxed the rest of practice. Everyone pulled out their phones and watched the sixty second video of Stanley doing nothing every practice. Even the guys outside seemed confused by the video, but the principal had a creepy smile as he watched the video proof against the dispute.


    "We should review the footage more clearly later," he quickly hid his smile. "But, from what I''ve seen, your son has kept to his promise and never used his power."


    "I know my son!" his mother cracked. "He used his power! I can feel it on him!"


    "Honey," the father said cautiously, "they''ve got it on video. I''m afraid there''s nothing we can do. Remember what we talked about."


    Mrs. Chevis looked at her husband, then at her son, then started crying enraged tears at Ben.


    "You''re corrupting my son!" she shrieked as the man in the family put an arm as thick as a tree around his wife to comfort her.


    "We''ll be going now," Mr. Chevis said, eyeing Ben with an almost apathetic stare.


    Stanley followed closely behind, smiling at Ben as he passed. It was the usual reaction when someone watches the most aggressive person in their life be put in their place. Ben watched them go, then saw from a distance as the entire Humanity First congregation followed them away.


    "FEW!" the principal screeched, loosening his tie as his nerves started to unravel. "That was rough! I''m so sorry Mr. Hersh, but thank god you had the foresight to bring security footage. I don''t even care where you got it, I''m just glad that it resolved things peacefully."


    "I hope they won''t pull Stanley out of the hero team," Ben stressed as he stood to go. "He may not be using his power, but we still need him as the fifth spot for a full team."


    "I did my best to stress how important making friends is to Stanley''s parents and how much he''s opened up since joining," Mr. Avery assured Ben. "Hopefully they believed me."


    "Was Stanley a quiet kid?"


    "Oh, I don''t know," the principal admitted, "there are eight hundred kids in this school, I don''t have time to get to know them all."


    Ben chuckled at the suspiciously candid response. He eyed the principal and decided to risk asking a question.


    "Is it just me," Ben carefully worded, "or did Stanley''s mom seem more avid about her beliefs than his father?"


    "I''m very familiar with Mrs. Chevis''s disdain towards any sort of supernatural occurrence. Mr. Chevis... I don''t quite get the feeling he''s as extreme, but I''m certain he''s a true believer."


    Ben wasn''t so sure about that. He had seen men do crazier things for love than join a cult.


    ==============================================================================================


    Stanley was back to practice the next day, but his father had come along and was watching from a distance. Stanley had to embarrassingly explain that his mom made him come watch to make sure that they weren''t covorting with satan.


    Ben felt a little anxious that he was now actively being watched, until a scheme started to form in the back of his mind. By the end of practice he had pulled it into the forefront of thought and was tackling it from every angle until he had a concievable plan.


    After practice, Ben approached Stanley''s father with the son behind him, and said ever-so delicately, "You know, you''d get a better view if you came closer."


    "I don''t want to be anywhere near that Voodoo hocus pocus," the burly man spat.


    "And I don''t want to be accused of selling children''s souls to the devil," Ben retorted, "but here we are.... I''m just saying, I want you to know what''s going on here, and I could use some help if there''s ever an emergency."


    The dad gave a steely-eyed look to Ben, but the councilman knew that it was an expression of deep thought, not rejection.


    "Feel free to think about it," Ben offered, then to Stanley, "I''ll see you at club tomorrow."

 Chapter 11 - A Controlling Debacle

    "What do you think you''re doing?" Ben demanded.


    Hannah looked up in a mix of fear and confusion.


    "Whut?" she asked, her mouth full of food.


    "I was saving that tilapia for Friday!" Ben shouted at his unwanted housemate. "I was going to make some stir fry! Stir Fryday!"


    "Oh, sorry," Hannah apologized, swallowing some more of the fish, "I''ll go get some more at the store."


    "You think I go to the grocery store!?" an enraged Ben shouted. "That tilapia was caught fresh last week on the Nile! The rice from rice fields in Cambodia, I picked the soy beans and made the soy sauce... GAH! Why do you keep inviting yourself over?!"


    "Am I not welcome?" Hannah teased.


    "You''re about to be seriously unwelcome if you don''t start telling me before you come over," Ben threatened.


    "Oh, come on," Hannah puffed, "don''t you need to keep an eye on me now that I know your secret?"


    "I already microchip-... I already cleaned up your house! It''s as perfectly safe to live there as it is here!"


    "But that place has so many bad memories!" Hannah whined like a sulky teenager. "Can''t I just live here?"


    "Not if you keep trying to sleep with me," Ben shouted, maintaining eye contact despite the partially closed, loosely tied, bath robe making a v-neck that went down to her knees. "I''m about to kick you out if you don''t straighten up your act!"


    "Oooh," Hannah moaned, "that Daddy talk really does fit you."


    Ben could tell that she wasn''t bluffing, being able to see her anatomy down to the molecular level. And somehow, it actually was starting to mess with his head having a vixen strut her stuff like a prostitute looking for a payday.


    However, if there was one thing that put gravel in his gonads, it was being unable to think clearly.


    Without another word, Ben marched over to Hannah and grabbed the neck of her back robe. He pulled her back so that she tipped over in her chair, then screamed a little when she tipped past the point of no return and fell onto the floor. Ben caught one end of the belt while she was falling and went down on her to grab the other. With both ends, he pulls the belt closed around her waist and tied it as tight as his anger allowed. Once it was triple knotted using the two tightest knots in a sandwich, he grabbed the belt and dragged her to the front door.


    Ben unceremoniously opened the door with his foot and hammer tossed the pleasingly revealing Hannah to the front curb. She yelped in surprise as she caught air, then yelped in pain when her knee banged against the sidewalk.


    "Hey, that was-" Hannah shouted before the door was loudly slammed shut behind her.


    "Idet, initiate phase protocol," Ben ordered.


    "Are you sure?" Idet asked.


    "Just do it! God, why are people so damned individualist!"


    From the window, Hannah marched back up to the house to hammer on the door until she was let back in. But when she was about to step onto the porch with fist raised, she disappeared into a wall of ambient light and reappeared in Ben''s backyard.


    "What the fuck?" she mumbled to herself, approaching Ben''s house more cautiously this time. She put her hand out to gauge where the invisible barrier was, until her fingertips disappeared with a wild, tingling sensation.


    "It''s a tesseract home defense system with a mystic illusion cast to keep my house in view," Ben shouted happily from within the barrier. "You''re never getting back in unless I let you, and I won''t! Now go away!"


    "You''re an asshole!" Hannah shouted, pulling the robe closed now that she was actually exposed. "At least give me back my clothes!"


    "Are you gonna call me before you come over next time?"


    "You can''t keep me out forever!" Hannah shouted. "You''ll have to leave sometime! And I''ll get in! GAH!"


    A harsh shock like a taser to the neck almost brought the intern to her knees. She put her hand on the area and tried to feel what had zapped her, but there wasn''t even a mark from whatever happened.


    "What the hell was that?" she mumbled, looking around for whatever was shooting pain at her.


    "Insurance," Bens voice emitted from his facsimile house as a pile of clothes were shotgunned directly into her face. "Now go home!"


    Hannah shouted more obscenities as she collected her clothes from the backyard, slipping a few on and bundling the others with the bath robe. Ben was by the fridge, looking at the ingredients he had left and trying to figure out what he could replace the tilapia with on short notice. He had some pork from a Stymphalian hind, a peacock carcass, and a meat cut from an animal not native to earth that looked like a kangaroo-sized frog.


    "If I flash fry the peacock, it''ll probably do well on top of the stir-fry, but that means I need vegetable replacements for the stir-fry filling...."


    Ben considered just ordering some, when he remembered the grocery store comment he made earlier and wondered about the last time he''d actually been in a regular store.


    "Is Hannah still outside?" Ben asked.


    "No," Idet confirmed.


    "Good, then I''m going shopping."


    "Where?"


    "I... think... there''s a local grocer''s on... Southern Rd?" he guessed.


    "1754 Southern Rd, you are correct," Idet confirmed. "But why are you doing this? Is the food you have not enough?"


    "I was just thinking, if I''m going to become mayor, then I need to be a man of the people," Ben explained. "And the most natural place to talk and reminisce is at local shopping centers. Name recognition, that''s my goal. I should make shirts with my name on them. Idet, make three shirt designs for maximum personal appeal and minimal costs."


    Ben exited his house with a short shopping list and drove the familiar roads to a large house that called itself a grocery store. He parked and went in and felt immediately like he was in the country when he saw the stalls and food basking openly in the sunlight. There were people milling about, checking the fruits and vegetables and trying to get the best bang for their buck.


    As Ben wandered the stalls, he was surprised at how cheap the food was. He''d never gone to one of these open markets because, if he wanted fresh food, he''d just take it. But the prices were reasonable for how fresh the food actually was, at least for most of it. His dimensional sight was able to see the odd virus and insect in some of the bad food, but the rest were exceptionally fresh and lacked the waxes and preservatives that most supermarket foods had. There was even a butcher stall that had cuts of beef and eggs that lacked any sort of latent salmonella or food coloring.


    That''s when Ben noticed a familiar face, and not how he had expected.


    Mr. Ulandy, fellow city councilman, was standing behind a cart full of apples and pears, along with jars of preserves and juice, respectively.


    "Benjamin!" the old coot shouted once they''d noticed each other. "Good to see you out and about!"


    "I felt like the weather was good enough to justify a little excursion," Ben greeted, "and I''ve been wanting to come here for a while."


    "Then you''re in luck! Now that it''s warmed up enough, the market''s gonna be open every Thursday that''s above sixty and sunny."


    "I didn''t know you farmed apples," Ben said, checking the fruit for their freshness.


    "Ah, my family owned the orchard over on Maple," the ancient man stated while scratching his chin. "We don''t really need the income, but I could always use the exercise. Cheapest apples you''re ever gonna see, ''cause I sell''em at cost."


    "That''s amazing," Ben said when he noticed the pulpy apple-juice starting to ferment. "The cider isn''t pasteurized?"


    "Nope. Keeps it fresh and a little sour. Try some, on me."


    "I''ll definitely take that offer," Ben said, picking the juice that had the cleanest fermentation. "Since I''m talking to a stall veteran, what''s the best purchase around here?"


    Mr. Ulandy chuckled at being called a veteran, then pointed at a portly woman selling tomatoes and said, "You''re gonna wanna see Tiff first and ask for her marinara recipe. It''s a specialty from her chef father, who ran a successful restaurant on sauce alone. She''ll probably discount the tomatoes you buy for it, seeing as how you''re going to come back for more anyway. Tell Manny at the herb stall about the recipe and he''ll pick the best garlic cloves he''s got just for you, but he doesn''t discount for anybody. Then you''re gonna wanna see Jeb for some meatballs. He''s gonna try to high-ball you for whatever he can get, but he''ll grind you a pork and beef mix that''s worth the price. We don''t have anyone that sells pasta, but Jen over by the potatoes has a gnocchi recipe she''s been working on. Can''t say it''s perfect, so have a backup plan, but it completes the meal."


    "Nothing you can add?" Ben joked, knowing full well that there were a series of fliers under the cash register.


    Sure enough, the fellow councilman pulled out his own applesauce recipe and handed it to Ben.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Cinnamon''s over with Manny," he added with a cheeky smile.


    Ben did his shopping and made sure to strike up every conversation he could to spread his face around. He also picked up celery, leeks, and bean sprouts for his stir-fry filling. When he reviewed the marinara sauce recipe, it was certainly something that looked like a high-end chef had created it for his own palette.


    "Who the hell puts lime in marinara?" he judged from the safety of his truck. "And why are there two whole garlic cloves in here? That''s extreme."


    Still, the stir fry was tomorrow and the groceries he''d picked up were at the peak of their freshness, so he''d figured it was a good idea to experiment with the recipes. He''d follow them first just to get a baseline understanding of what needs fixing, then he''d alter them to his tastes. If he made this recipe his own, and it was good enough to spread around at local functions, it might help to spread his name among function-goers and he''d have an excuse to visit the market more often to talk. If all goes well, they might even put a banner up for his campaign.


    When Ben got home and started cooking, he was amazed at what he was seeing and smelling. The slight acidity of the lime was actively melting parts of the crushed garlic and allowing it to spread out more evenly through the sauce. The garlic then carried the lime through the sauce, giving a slightly pickled taste that was titillating with the sweetness of ripe tomatoes. The gnocchi preparation was much more straightforward, and despite the potato-based pasta normally paired with pesto or alfredo, it was the perfect base to add that little more flavor to the marinara.


    When Ben finally sat down to eat his creation, Idet hover over his shoulder curiously.


    "Something wrong?" Ben asked.


    "Where did this recipe come from?" she asked in synthesized curiosity as it glow intensified. "I cannot find such a marinara on the conscious-net."


    "Apparently, it''s from a local grocer''s chef father," Ben said whilst spooning a delicious serving into his mouth. A quick, unexpected moan later, "He''s probably in the deceased section, or maybe he''s already been reincarnated."


    Idet glowed even more brightly, almost making it hard for Ben to keep his eyes open from the reflective glare.


    "Tiffany Melandry," Idet stated, "her father was Barachiel Melandry, a chef who once owned a four-star Italian restaurant and served as a money launderer for the Mafia."


    "Neat," Ben passed as he dug into the delicious pasta meal.


    Idet continued to glow with an intensity reserved for harsh thinking, or...


    "Would you like some?" Ben asked finally, and the glow died down.


    "Please!"


    "Alright, go get your mouth," Ben said, pushing the plate away so he didn''t finish off the last portion.


    Idet''s glowing ball floated off into kitchen and disappeared inside of the island countertop, then a drawer opened as a floating, plastic lower-face returned to the kitchen table. The fake head only had anatomy between the jaw and the nose, lacking even cheeks, but it was enough to link to Idet and allow her taste and smell. The floating mask went down to the plate and started slurping it up like a dog, savoring the taste. The slurping noises were grotesque, but Idet claims it''s hard to vocalize with her light while managing other senses.


    "This is great!" the conscious light proclaimed once the plate was clean. "The flavor mixture is just right for lasagna or, OH, pizza!"


    "That''s enough, you foodie," Ben chuckled, then considered what toppings would go best on such a divine pizza.


    "I wish Hannah had tried this," Idet mentioned while floating back to the drawer her mouth came from.


    Ben sighed, "Are you guilt tripping me?"


    "I wouldn''t know what you''re talking about."


    "Yes you do, you little liar. Did Hannah teach you how to manipulate people?"


    "...She gave me some tips on men. I''ll have to report back to her that they are ineffective against you."


    Ben squinted at the floating ball, trying to parse out from her synthesized voice whether or not she was still trying to manipulate him.


    "Korrahl," Ben declared, throwing the dish onto the ground so that it shattered. "Sharpen you weapons, for you will need them! Do not call upon your allies, they will not help you! Make peace with your maker, for you will soon meet him! I shall meet you in the arena and we will decide whether Hannah has access to my house through battle!"


    "BEN!" Idet shouted. "There''s no need to go this far to-"


    "The challenge has been issued!" Ben declared. "If you don''t meet me in the basement in fifteen minutes, Hannah will be banned from this house permanently!"


    The former supervillain marched to the basement door and punched in his code that changed the door, then entered. He went down the stairs, then took the elevator to the bottom floor and started towards the back. He stopped near the center in front of a cardboard box large enough to fit a fake christmas tree. When he opened it, there was a set of futuristic-medieval armor with miniscule thorns around it. He grabbed a sword that looked more like a serrated machete, then placed it aside to put the armor on. Equipping the armor took all the time he had given Idet to prepare, so he headed to the very back where a regular door inlaid into the wall was in a parted sea of boxes.


    Ben opened the door and entered a dead world whose sky was a mass of destroyed planets and swarming clouds of brilliant light. A planetary ring could be seen to one side, just barely hidden by the high walls of a freshly destroyed coliseum. The gorgeous vistas were merely a distraction for Ben who was staring straight at a large humanoid mechanicus at the opposite end of the battlefield. It was the same white as Idet''s face, and glowed with the same brightness as the machine came to life.


    "James," Idet said in synthetic concern, using Ben''s birth name, "there''s no need for this. We can talk this out."


    "The fact that you would use the name of a dead child proves you''re still trying to manipulate me. You''re horrible at this Idet, so I''m going to teach you a lesson in manipulation. First things first, never let the person you''re using find out they''re being controlled. If they catch on, you''ve lost their trust, and I''m sure you''re done enough research to know how dangerous that is."


    Ben tapped a button on his alien machete and the serrated gaps came to life with a red buzz of hot plasma.


    "Come at me, you cowardly bitch!" Ben screamed, then charged forward with his sword near his waist.


    Idet put her arms up in a defensive stance to block the machete, but the searing edge cut clean through the metal like a guillotine through paper.


    A scream erupted through the coliseum as Ben pulled back, watching Idet''s panicked reaction.


    "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BATTLE MECH?!" she screamed distressingly.


    "Lesson two in manipulation," Ben said confidently, "plan ahead. I installed pain receptors in your mech weeks ago when I noticed you were getting a little chummy with Hannah. How does it feel, knowing what organics have to go through when we''re injured?"


    Idet''s fighting model suddenly came to life and struck back, throwing a punch with its severed arms. Ben put the blade up to block, and smiled when the droid instantly recoiled before touching it.


    "You feel that?" Ben goaded, "That''s fear."


    "I... hate this!" Idet shouted, throwing another punch that Ben nimbly dodged.


    However, his sidestep was right into the path of a shower of dirt the android kicked into his face. It was stupid to try and blind someone with dimensional sight, but Ben knew that Idet knew that, so he remained still while watching what the android would do.


    Idet opened the chest plate of her armor where a small caliber missile array was primed and ready to go. Seven of them shot out, but Ben saw his opportunity and threw the machete overhanded while curling into a ball that perfectly closed into an impenetrable ball of metal. The machete hit home, directly into the unfired missiles as the ones which were fired exploded harmlessly around Ben, their power unable to crack his armor.


    The android screamed, then the armor''s illuminated parts went dark, which Ben took advantage of to rush the robot. He grabbed the laser machete and pulled it out, then used it to decapitate the machine. The head rolled onto the floor, then Ben picked it up and held it aloft.


    "Get back here," Ben ordered, and the head lit up slightly.


    "I''m sorry!" Idet quickly apologized.


    "Why?" Ben scoffed. "Your training to be more human meant you would eventually do something that I had to take action for. Which leads me to lesson three of manipulation: Get information on your target before you intervene directly. Putting yourself out there can cause horrible reactions if things don''t go your way, and especially because-"


    "-you might not need to do anything at all."


    Idet''s head changed brightness a dozen times, a sign of confusion from the glowing ball.


    "I was thinking of renting Hannah the single story house two doors down," Ben answered with a HUGE grin. "Since she''s been coming to my house, you''ve been making enormous progress in your studies, and I''ve been able to get regular insight on how the townsfolk see me. I''ve already had to scrap a few ideas for my campaign in two years and seriously downsize the parade float I was gonna buy."


    "THEN," Idet yelled, "why did you do all this?!"


    "Two reasons," Ben said, juggling the disembodied robot head. "First, all this Hannah business and working with children has been piling up more stress than I''d care to admit. Second,-"


    Ben dropped the head and planted his foot on it like the Captain Morgan logo.


    "Your growth has potential to be dangerous to me. And I want you to understand in the deepest part of whatever you call your soul that I am not someone you can afford as an enemy."


    For the cherry on top, Ben reached under his armor and pressed a button on his left shoulder blade, hidden under the skin. The Idet robot started rapidly changing brightness levels as sensations started to bombard it.


    "WHat IS thIS?!" she cried as the voice modulator wavered wildly.


    "That''s me," Ben said with an evil grin, "every sensation that I''m feeling right now in this uncomfortable armor. See, in order for you to exist as an individual outside of your home dimensions, I had to put up a barrier that kept you safe from inadvertently absorbing all consciousness at once. Right now, you''re only feeling me because this space is localized from infinity, but I just DARE you to cross me outside. You''ll lose your mind over and over again, until consciousness itself disappears."


    Ben pressed the button on his shoulder and turned to leave.


    "Does that mean... this fight was meaningless?"


    "For you? Pretty much."


    "Then I should probably tell you," Idet said, and Ben turned to listen.


    Once he was turned, Idet suddenly increased the brightness to the maximum the robot could handle. Ben couldn''t close his eyes in time, and his retinas burned in the holy light.


    "Revenge!" Idet shouted in a fleeting voice as she left the armor, laughing at her small victory.


    "Gah! That bitch!" Ben swore, closing his eyes as tightly as he could. "I have to drive to catch up to Hannah, you idiot! Now I have to wait until I can see again!"


    =============================================================================


    Hannah sat sulking at the only bar in the village, drinking a Yuengling from the tap. The bartender didn''t question anything, he knew enough about her situation from her father''s frequent visits, and now that her dad was missing, life was probably much harder. Whatever had caused her to enter the bar and drop a bunch of clothes in a booth at 10 AM was none of his business, as long as she was buying and not crying.


    It was already night and the bar was its at the height of business when an irregular face walked in. He shook his shirt dry from a little drizzle that had started recently, then glanced at the clothes pile before heading to the bar.


    "Long night?" he asked, causing the buzzed intern to jolt upright.


    "Oh, hey," she smiled drunkenly, then frowned. "What are yooou doing here?"


    The bartender''s ears perked up, and Ben noticed, so he ordered a whiskey neat. This was both his drink of choice, and a quick acknowledgment that he wasn''t going to narc on the drinking minor.


    "I''ve had some time to consider and, I think I have a place for you."


    Hannah glanced glumly at her boss, who grinned at her.


    "I don''t suppose there are any strings attached?" Hannah raised an eyebrow.


    "Well, it might be a little above your price range, what with your father missing, but I''ve been thinking you''ve been an intern for a little too long. Would you like to be my assistant?"


    "For real?"


    "For real."


    Hannah got up off the bar and wrapped her arms around Ben for a nice, big hug. He got a few side-eyes from the regulars who were making sure Hannah was safe, but Ben kept his hands nervously in the air in accordance with his fuddy-duddy persona.


    After some drunken conniving, Hannah got into his truck and relaxed in the comfortable seat.


    "Hey, I-I''ve been shrinking," Hannah slurred.


    It took a moment to parse out what she said, "What have you been thinking about?"


    "What- what is Idet? Is she like, an AI?"


    "That''s the cover story," Ben coughed, "so if anyone ever sees her, that''s what you should tell them."


    "But, like, what''s she?"


    "Idet is a being that consumes excess consciousness. You know how the brain isn''t capable of handling all the information we recieve? Well, in the origin of consciousness, there are these symbiotes that consume that excess information as sustenance. They work as a hivemind, but Idet broke off to find me specifically because my power was passing all information everywhere through a simple human brain, bloating these creatures. She eats the excess information that goes through my mind and is the reason I was able to control myself in the first place."


    "So, she''s an alien?"


    "Kinda," Ben said, "Inter-Dimensional Extra-Terrestrial. IDET."


    "Ah," Hannah said as her eyes weighed themselves closed.

 Chapter 12 - The Times Are Changing

    Ben sat back and enjoyed the machinations of his genius as the puzzle pieces fell into place with no more pushing on his part.


    "Two more laps!" assistant coach Jeffery Chevis shouted as the members of the high school hero team struggled with the single mile of running they were suddenly forced to do.


    For a man who was supposedly a member of the Humanity First movement, Coach Jeff (as he wanted to be called) fell into his leadership position quite well. His very first day, he simply watched from the sidelines as Ben ran the practice like normal. The buffalo of a human being didn''t say or do anything besides stare aggressively at the kids, especially his son who was hard-focused on his textbook and notes. When they went to the library to discuss power management lessons, he leaned on a nearby bookshelf and listened with an angry intensity. This process repeated itself until his first Friday when he finally called out to have a ''coaches meeting'' with Ben.


    "You''ve done fucked up," he said in the southern drawl he occasionally remembered he had.


    "What''s wrong?" Ben asked innocently, even though he had a very good idea of what Jeff was going to say.


    "These kids only practice their sinful powers," he grumbled viciously while clapping a hand on his bicep. "They need to know the power of their bodies!"


    "Well, I might be familiar with anatomy, but I don''t actually exercise besides an occasional run and some physical therapy stretches. What''s your workout routine?"


    Jeff smiled like a kid in a candy store and started to ramble on about the physical exercises necessary for youths. Ben was legitimately surprised when Jeff''s depth of knowledge on growth and rest periods of the human musculature system almost matched his own.


    "Sounds like you did your research," Ben puzzled after a half-hour lecture on muscular-digestive compatibility.


    "Ah, well," Jeff awkwardly looked to escape the question, "my major in college was for sports medicine.... Pediatric sports medicine."


    "Really? Then, shouldn''t you be working at a hospital?"


    This was just a little dig Ben wanted to get at Jeff. The city councilman knew very well Jeff worked as the nurse/receptionist for the village''s only real doctor. The degree likely allowed him to understand the medical jargon enough to land the position without having a nursing certificate.


    "That''s not important," Jeff waved the awkwardness away. "Right now, those kids are too focused on a single... muscle group... you know what I''m saying! They need to keep body strength up if they want to do more than just kiddy stuff."


    Ben gave the assistant coach a sideways glance while saying, "You seem awfully invested in the future of these meta-humans."


    Jeff sneered at Ben, "Says the coach who''s actively sabotaging their future."


    Ben did his best to act naturally when Jeff hit the hangnail on the head.


    "I''ll leave any real exercise to you," Ben stepped back. "We''ve got to get the kid''s opinions on it though!"


    Ben started to leave, but Jeff yelped, "Hey! Something you oughtta know. My son''s got a thing for your intern, Hannah."


    Ben smiled, "That begs the question, how are we going to set them up?"


    "Make him work for it!" the father laughed before slamming the truck door. "Nothing in life worth having is easy to get!"


    "Oh boy," Ben said while turning away and lowering his voice, "don''t I know it."


    =====================================================================


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    At home for another weekend, Ben saw Hannah gardening in the front yard. She was putting flowers into the ground, digging with a trowel and kneeling on some cardboard to save her knees some pain. When she noticed Ben pulling into his garage, waving like a kind neighbor is supposed to.


    Hannah winked at him and shook her ass so they moved independent of the jeans around them.


    Ben''s friendly neighbor act dropped faster than the fine china in the hands of a newborn baby. He pulled into his garage and closed the door before Hannah got a chance to rush inside.


    "Can Hannah come visit?" Idet asked before Ben even got into the house.


    "Are you guys besties now?" Ben asked.


    "If we are friends, then she is my first, and therefore my best."


    "How do you like having a human friend?" Ben curiously probed the higher dimensional being.


    "It is lonely. I find that I miss her when she is not around and think about what she might say when encountering unfamiliar situations. She has even given me good reference material that has expanded my horizons substantially."


    Ben cast an unbelieving gaze at the symbiote that transcends dimensions, because none of the thousands of references, articles, and institutions of learning that Ben had offered up had elicited such a strong response.


    "What exactly has she shown you?"


    "Hearts and Soles."


    Ben sighed, chuckled to himself, rolled his eyes hard enough to feel a tug at the nerve stem, then groaned in metaphysical and pure physical pain.


    "It''s a reliable source!" Idet whined like a dopey teenage girl.


    "It''s a soap opera about a shoe store!"


    "It''s a shoe empire! They''re all rich, but not overly so, and it''s so insightful and compelling!"


    "It''s fake!"


    "I know that!" Idet retorted sourly. "But there are so many people that watch it, I can get a glimpse at what they want out of life, and see what they think and want and feel. Analyzing fantasies has a power and insight into human communication that I''ve never known before."


    "Oh, god!" Ben shouted in sudden and drastic frustration. "That''s right! The fucking ethics committees! There''s no official studies on the dark sides of humanity because those studies are unethical! You don''t know what humans hide in their hearts."


    Ben reeled from such a simple oversight. He''s been trying to get an interdimensional being to understand human beings through corporate backed and government funded research about pre-driven conclusions.


    "Quickly!" Ben shouted in fake dramatic fashion, "Get Hannah over here now!"


    The floating ball of light formed into a smile then disappeared.


    The light came back a minute later while Ben was drinking water, "Hannah''s getting ready. She''ll be a minute."


    Ben wondered what could possibly take her time to get ready when she seemed plenty ready for anything when he was pulling in.


    There was a knock at the door and then a moment of silence. Ben cocked an eyebrow as he noticed Hannah just standing on the front porch like a stranger, forcing him to cross the room just to open the door for her.


    "May I come in?" she asked politely, curtsying in her Sunday best.


    "What''s with the tone? Are we strangers now?"


    Hannah couldn''t quite make eye contact as she said, "It''s kind of awkward, but I''ve been reviewing my behavior recently and realized that I''ve been acting like an obsessed stalker."


    "So?" Idet chirped.


    "So, it''s wierd!" Hannah griped. "I''m going to stop and just present myself as normally as possible."


    "Good," Ben said, "wanna fuck?"


    Hannah almost cried, "Yes, please!"


    "Too bad," Ben smiled like a true villain. "What do you want for dinner?"


    Ben started cooking some tilapia while Idet turned on the TV and pulled up Setflix. He finished when they were halfway through an episode of Hearts and Soles, and delivered their meals. Idet wanted to try some, so she went to the kitchen to get her mouth, then came back and started slurping up the fish. Hannah was watching curiously, then she aggressively stared at Ben.


    "What?" Ben broached the topic.


    "You don''t have, like, a sex doll for Idet, do you?"


    Ben choked on his own spit before clearing his throat and answering, "A few things, first of all, if I was going to build a sex doll, it wouldn''t need Idet to control it. Also, Idet''s entire animal kingdom is so far removed from the realm of sexuality, she''s the antitheses of sex. Most importantly:"


    Ben stood on the couch and delivered a backhanded clap to punctuate every word.


    "DO. NOT. SEXUALIZE. THE. EXTRA. TERRESTRIAL. She is a guest here, not a convenient tool for fun times."


    "I would like experience sex at some point," Idet mentioned.


    "You''re not helping!" Ben shouted. "Consider her a foreign exchange student. DO NOT take advantage of her."


    "Then why do you call her ''her'' if she doesn''t have a sexuality?"


    "Because she insists on speaking in a calm, motherly voice."


    "It''s proven very effective at quickly earning people''s trust," the alien confirmed, then her voice shifted to a dark, grumbling, masculine timbre. "It''s important to tailor the show to the audience."


    "Speaking of which, have you watched Sapping Sad yet?"


    Hannah awkwardly turned away from Ben and ate her tilapia.


    "We''re switching over," Ben said as he grabbed for the remote.


    "No!" Idet shouted and the TV remote floated to Hannah. "We''re almost to the end of the episode! Just a little longer!"


    Ben had never experienced such a reaction from the docile and amicable Idet.


    "Okay, we can watch ''til the end of the episode."

 Chapter 13 - The Game is Afoot

    Ben was readily preparing a report on the somewhat irresponsible behavior of the parks department when installing benches and paving walking paths when such things could be done cheaper by people looking for volunteer hours or boy scouts. He noticed Hannah approaching his office specifically, so he found a good stopping point to give her his full attention.


    "So?" Ben preempted his assistant. "What did you think?"


    "Tacky," she responded, throwing an Idet designed shirt for Ben''s mayoral campaign onto his desk, "all of them."


    Ben lifted the shirt and saw his name in radical font as if it was spray painted.


    "I don''t suppose you would want to design one?" Ben asked.


    "I''ll charge you," Hannah conditioned.


    "I''ll have to see your previous artwork, maybe get a few references."


    "I made the banner for the Memorial Day parade."


    Ben tried to recall such a tiny memory in the back of his mind.


    "Very well," Ben said, "if you weren''t lynched by the veterans who live in this town, you''re skills should be employable. Just don''t tell Idet. She''ll be so disappointed that her designs didn''t work."


    "Anything interesting going on?" Hannah asked as though she wasn''t the one in charge of his schedule.


    "Just the hero game in a week and a half," Ben said, casting his mind back to practice.


    "What''s the game?"


    "Capture-the-flag."


    "Sounds fun," Hannah said, "I should invite myself along."


    "Why don''t you ask the Chevis kid in the fire department if he''ll take you? His dad and brother are going."


    "Ugh, that guy''s a total narcissist. Every time we talk, it somehow comes down to working out and gym stuff."


    "Working out''s his hobby. I''m sure he''s testing the water, seeing if he can set up a gym date."


    "But I don''t work out!" she hissed aggressively. "Look at me, I''m skin and bone!"


    "You probably should. I mean, even I do morning jogs and occasional public gym visits. Exercise is good, in measure amounts."


    "Ugh, the invasion of meatheads!"


    Hannah turned as a large, fat man huffed his way down the municipal hall wearing a polo and khakis with food stains from his lunch. His receding hairline seemed to thin just from the minor wind resistance he got from his fast-walking pace that was popping beads of sweat on his forehead.


    "Hey, Mrs. Sinclair," he greeted, "Councilman Hersh, I''m glad you''re both here. I just wanted to warn you that a cold weather front is moving in from the north and the skies could get a bit choppy for a few days. Keeps your phones ready in case there''s another snow-day!"


    The fat blob waddled away to inform the other city council workers as Hannah sneered at him from behind in disgust.


    "Don''t be so condescending," Ben offered, "there''s a reason he''s that fat."


    "Not enough exercise," Hannah chuckled.


    "I''m afraid the reason is medical, so I can''t divulge it."


    "Not even later?"


    "No, I''m pretty serious about my silence on other people''s medical conditions. It''s one of the highest forms of privacy."


    "Hm. So, about this kiddy hero game. When and where is it?"


    "Hyde Park down in the Southlands at noon o''clock. You really think you''re gonna go?"


    "Might as well," Hannah shrugged, "until they declare my dad officially missing, I''m not allowed to leave the country."


    "Where would you go outside the country?"


    "Japan, maybe Australia. Somewhere that I could really get away and hide in a back alley or something."


    "No college?"


    "Never had the grades for it. Besides, I hate sitting in class. I was hoping to get something more cushy with no real experience or learning requirements. Like what you do!"


    Ben would have refuted her if that wasn''t exactly why he became a city councilman in the first place.


    "That reminds me," Hannah perked up, "why exactly do you want to become mayor?"


    "It''s as you said," Ben leaned back in his office chair, "the job''s easy, the pay''s nice, and people are friendly. What''s not to love?"


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "I mean, couldn''t you aim a little higher? Like, president, or king of the world?"


    "Ah, that''s what you mean," Ben said, looking at the computer with his report on local funds. "Have you ever heard of the phrase, ''Frog in the well''?"


    Hannah shook her head, so Ben explained, "It''s an eastern philosophical story about being narrow-minded. There''s this frog in a deep well, and when the frog looks up, there''s this tiny hole where he can see the sky. But frog has never been out of the well, so he confidently believes that the tiny section of sky is the only sky that exists. It is only by climbing out of the well that you''ll see the whole sky and know how foolish you were."


    "What does this have to do with being mayor?"


    "When I was travelling around the world," Ben used the code word for being a supervillain, "I climbed out of the well. And do you know what I found?"


    "The sky?"


    "No," Ben said, "another well. Every time I reached the top of the well, I just saw wider walls and the same tiny sky far above my head. No matter how many wells I climbed, no matter how much closer I got to the sky, it never got any wider and the wells never got any more pleasant. So once I finished my business, I went to a well I liked and made it my home. The sky may be tiny and well may be damp, but I can do as I like, and that''s fine with me."


    "So, be happy with what you have?" Hannah guessed.


    "No," Ben sat up, "don''t be happy with what you''ve got, reach for the stars, by all means. Just, when you''ve gone as high as you can, don''t just hang up there like a prisoner in the noose. Come back down and plant some roots. Take your riches and your experiences and let them rest."


    "Like your absolute treasure trove?"


    "Relics from a difficult time in my life," Ben chuckled.


    "And, are you ever going to tell the kids about your travels?"


    Ben chuckled again, but his smile faded, "Not even if their life was on the line."


    ========================================================


    "I should probably ask before we go any further," assistant-coach Jeff mentioned tersely, "what game are we playing, exactly?"


    "Capture the flag, coach," Katherine said. "It''s like in video games, two teams have flags they have to defend while trying to steal the other team''s flag."


    "Is the flag planted somewhere, or is it carried by a team member?"


    "Usually planted," Ben said, "though there is a ''capture'' game where everyone has tails on their person and a team wins by grabbing all the tails. It''s less popular because some powers can dominate the field."


    "Okay, is there a game-plan here? Or are we playing it by ear?"


    "I forget what I said after the last game," Ben lied. "Are you guys supposed to take care of it, or me?"


    "You didn''t mention it," Michael said.


    Ben looked at Jeff, "Do you want to make a plan of action? They''ve got formations to work with, but a plan of action can still be formed."


    "Oh," Jeff smiled deviously, "I''ve got a better idea!"


    ===============================================


    "I don''t think this is a good idea," Ben mumbled to himself, playing the part of a meek councilman while voicing his true opinions.


    In the field, wading through a foot of snow, were the three combat members of the high school hero team charging at their coaches. Behind the heroes were Stanley and Gary, with a flag between them. Behind the two coaches was an identical flag stuck through a snowman they had piled up.


    "Listen, scrimmage games are necessary to keep a team in tip-top shape," Jeff mentioned, keeping his freezing hands in his pockets. "And since we don''t have enough players to play against each other, it''s coaches versus players!"


    Ben eyed Jeff suspiciously. He may be getting a bit too into playing coach, and that would drive the students further than Ben could reasonably get away with for a city councilman. He was secretly hoping that making a member of the anti-hero movement the assistant coach to a hero team wasn''t backfiring on him.


    "You be the defense, I''ll go for the flag," Jeff ordered, then he started wading through the snow towards his son.


    "There still kids!" Ben half-heartedly called, "Go easy on them!"


    "Don''t lose our flag so easily!" Jeff called back.


    ''Oh,'' Ben realized, ''he''s enjoying this.''


    The large man waded through the snow, specifically going around the team heading for his flag. This was less of a tactical strategy than a recognition that he would lose in a straight fight with three meta-humans.


    "Why the hell do I have to face three of them?" Ben grumbled to himself.


    "Get ready, coach!" Garrett shouted, slithering a little before doing a coiled jump from the snow. Unfortunately, the snow packed under his feet slipped at the sudden force and the scaley boy faceplanted in the snow.


    Michael was trying to sneak to the flag by going behind Ben, which would have worked if the flag was outside of his supposed five-foot range. When Michael reached for the flag, a harsh chop to the wrist caught the boy by surprise.


    "You''re out!" Ben shouted, keeping to the one-hit policy agreed on before the game.


    "My turn!" Katherine shouted, then she screamed fire onto the snow-laden field, instantly vaporizing the crystal rain into steam.


    "Not a good idea to blind someone who has dimensional sight," Ben said, but with his extended vision, he could already see the plan.


    Garrett''s face plant earlier had been a diversion make Ben think he was taken out of the fight. The snake man was now crawling as quietly as possible to Ben''s right with Katherine ahead of him. They must be trying to get Ben away from the flag so that they could nick it without him noticing. It was a good idea, and Ben needed to play along to not let on that his sight was actually much further than he told everyone it is.


    Sure enough, Katherine''s fire erupted right in front of Ben, getting a little too close for comfort. He stepped back, keeping the flag within range and trying to see where Katherine was coming from.


    "Did I get you?" she called through the warm steam.


    "Almost," Ben called, recognizing that her training must have been going well to accurately judge distance and manage her power accordingly.


    "Good!" she cheered, then another jet of flame licked his face all over.


    Ben complied with the plan of action and stepped out of range of the flag shouting, "Hey! Just because you didn''t hit me doesn''t mean my Carhart can take this kind of heat! You almost melted the plastic coating!"


    "Sorry!" Katherine shouted as she rushed closer to judge if Ben was far enough away. "Garrett, now!"


    The snake-man slithered through the snow and grabbed the flag, but when he tried to pull it out, the snow man came toppling on top of him. Ben recognized what was going on, but the snow slowed his movements too much before he could reach the flag. Garrett pulled, but Katherine quickly joined him and managed to pull the flag out together. Since Garrett was stuck, Katherine had to return the flag by herself. She blazed a trail through the snow to make her escape faster, but Ben also had the same path to take. Still, Katherine was fast enough to make it to the other side where Stanley and Gary were sitting down due to being ''out''.


    The dragoness looked around for where Coach Jeff was, only to smile that he was only half-way back. But, he didn''t have the flag...?


    Right as she noticed the tentpole in the air, Katherine''s jaw dropped in shock as Ben caught the flag and buried it into the snowman with a single, fluid movement.


    "This round goes to... the COACHES!" cheered an ecstatic Jeff, who hopped up in victory.


    "Jeff," Ben rolled his eyes, "this is supposed to be training. Not dunking on teenagers."

 Chapter 14 - An Unexpected Acquaintance

    It was just one disaster after another.


    First, Hannah drove with Ben to pick up the kids in the school-issued van, and the little brats wouldn''t stop poking fun at him for bringing his gIrLfRiEnD. Even Jeff joined in on the juvenile fun when he saw how effective it was to tease the councilman on the topic. This continued for the forty-minute drive to the park where Capture-the-flag was going to be held, and Jeff finally directed the kid''s attention to the upcoming competition.


    Ben had to distance himself from the children before he killed one of them, so he made an excuse about the bathroom and left. While heading over to the disgusting, never-cleaned park lavatories, he noticed the other team was a disaster in itself. They all looked to be snot-nosed middle schoolers with learning disabilities. He crossed his fingers and prayed one of them had some overpowering ability, like turning themselves non-corporeal.


    No such luck, and the first round ended with one of the other team wetting themselves. Oddly enough, there were a few kids on the sidelines cheering for mentally handicapped, and one even had pom-poms. His mom seemed embarrassed about it, but not enough to stop him.


    "That''s strange," Ben said aloud when something about the mom picked at the corner of his brain.


    "What is it?" Hannah asked, then she distractedly shouted, "KEEP YOUR FEET UP STANLEY! THAT KID''S GOT GRASS POWERS!"


    "I swear I''ve seen that woman before," Ben pointed to the cheerleader''s mother.


    The woman had red hair, clearly dyed, bright red lipstick, wore leather from her shoes to a choker around her neck, and carried herself like the punk mom who listens to rock on maximum volume.


    "The cougar? Do you think it''s someone you met travelling abroad?"


    The sudden realization of where he recognized her, as well as her eyes suddenly tracking down and locking gazes with him, was the next disaster.


    "Probably," Ben said, but his expression communicated he was slightly panicked.


    "What, you never expected to meet someone from your travels in normal life?"


    "It''s very rare that I stopped travelling, I didn''t think anyone else would."


    "Didn''t you wear a mask the whole time? She''s not going to recognize you!"


    "There may have been a few individuals I had to show my face to...."


    Right then, a scream from the field caught everyone''s attention as Gary got up off of a skinny kid with an awkwardly bent forearm. The large boy was apologizing a lot, saying that his feet were caught in grass, but an ambulance was still called and the game was cancelled due to injury.


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    "Howdy!" came a dreaded voice as Ben tried to cross the parking lot in peace. "Didn''t think you were going to get away from me that easy, didja?"


    The councilman turned around and saw the red-headed mother staring salaciously at him.


    Ben acted confused, pointing to himself as if to ask if she had gotten the right person.


    "Don''t play dumb with me, cowboy," she flirted in a southern drawl, "I''d never forget a face as handsome as yours."


    Ben wanted to back out of the conversation as much as humanly possible, and considered hitting her with a neural toxin to get away, but he knew her personality wouldn''t be so easy to get rid of. He had to play along, for now.


    "That''s right! My goodness how long has it been?! What''s your nickname nowadays?"


    "Folks call me Sue, now''s''about. How ''bout you, slugger?"


    "Oh, most people call me ''Ben''. What''ve you been up to recently?"


    "Oh, I''ve been settling down, planting roots, started a little home remodeling business with m''hubby."


    "You''re married?" Ben genuinely asked. "You never seemed like the type."


    "What''s that supposed to mean," Sue demanded.


    "Well- I mean- there''s- you know-"


    "HA! I''m just pulling your leg, corn-dog! I know what I used to be like!"


    Sue ruffled her own hair and softly admitted, "I just... found someone right for me."


    "And how was that?"


    "Babybell!" came a shout from across the parking lot. "We''ve got the orthodontist in an hour."


    A fellow who radiated ''dad-energy'' started walking across the gravel pit tucked in a nice cardigan and wearing a team hat. He had the beginnings of a beer gut and a little muscle left over from his days as a single man.


    "Who''s your friend?" the guy asked, holding a hand out to shake.


    "A guy from my wilder years," Sue said, snuggling into her man''s arm.


    Ben watched with his spacial awareness as the man''s heart skipped a beat and his sweat glands activated suddenly.


    ''That must be there codeword for her villainy career,'' Ben guessed as he gently shook the shivering man''s hands.


    "Benjamin Hersh, local village council, it''s a pleasure to meet you," he said in his best business voice. "I need to get going, but, hey, if you guys want to catch up and reminisce, give me a call."


    The reformed villain handed the husband a business card and smiled his way into the van where more jokes about his relationship status were accruing. The couple watched the van drive off as they got into their own car where their son was busy playing a handheld game with headphones in.


    "Who actually was that?" the husband whispered cautiously.


    "Do you remember how I told you there were some people who, if they ever came after me, we''d have to drop everything and move? He''s at the top of that list."


    "Should we start packing?"


    "Well, that''s the weird thing," Sue said as she looked after the kids van. "He was the coldest sonuva bitch there was, he buried a man alive because the dude was distracting, but... now he''s like... me. I think he actually got away from being... wild."


    "So... does that mean you want to call him?" the husband asked while waving the business card in the air.


    "Maybe later," Sue slumped, "but you should probably get rid of that. He''s got a habit of bugging things. It''s probably a GPS."


    A soft buzz from her pocket made Sue pull out her phone where a text from a random number read, "It''s actually a cell jacker. We need to talk. Find a day, get a babysitter, and come over."


    Sue showed the phone to her husband, who said, "Oh, that''s fucked."


    Then he received a text which read, "It''s smart. Make sure you keep this a secret."

 Chapter 15 - Keeping the Peace

    Outside of Ben''s simple one-story modern house, a couple were sitting in their car going over some ground rules.


    "Tim, repeat back to me what I told you," coached Sue while she applied her cherry lipstick in the visor mirror.


    "Don''t bring up anything related to the past, even if he mentions it first," her husband recited. "Make sure to show weakness at all times. Give him as much time as he needs to monologue. Keep in mind that all possible exits could be fake. If he ever gets mad, give up and let him do anything he wants to us."


    "... AND?" she asked expectantly.


    The husband sighed sorrowfully, "Don''t be a hero."


    "I know you''ve always wanted to beat the bad guy and save the girl," said his wife with a mushy tone, "but this guy is death incarnate, not a dragon worth fighting."


    She gave him a peck on the cheek light enough that her lipstick didn''t rub off.


    Finally ready, the couple got out of their minivan and faced Ben''s standard single story doll house. Sue took the lead all the way to the door, where she pressed the doorbell with the caution of an experienced hunter laying a trap at a tiger''s den.


    The married couple flinched when the door opened to be greeted by a very well-washed Benjamin wearing a sweater vest and khakis with a warm smile. He was carrying a plate of nachos and wearing a cooking apron as he jovially invited the pair inside and offered to take their coats.


    "I''m sorry, I don''t believe we''ve actually been introduced," Ben said as he shook hands with Sue''s husband, his grip evenly tight but not too rough. "I''m Ben; Benjamin Hersh."


    "Tim," the husband greeted as though the man in front of them hadn''t bugged his families phones, "Thomas Maxswroth. Nice to see you again."


    "I was just about to lay out the nachos, come join us," he ushered them in.


    Tim looked at his wife for some clue as to what this might be leading towards, and when he saw her, she looked more terrified than he had ever seen. She was digging her nails into her hands from how hard she clenched her fists.


    Tim had to pull her along as they entered the homely little space Ben lived in. There were two large couches in a ''U'' shape that circled a hardwood coffee table and TV hung above a lit fireplace. Sitting on the couch were a group of old, degenerating people playing a heated game of Munchkins.


    "Damn your plus two boots of floating!" shouted Mayor Wilkinson as he lost the round.


    "Who are all these people?" Sue asked, trying and failing to hide her nerves.


    "Oh, this is the village municipal game night," Ben beamed proudly. "We get together every two months and play a board game at one of our houses. This is the first time that I''ve hosted and I''m kinda nervous. Nachos, anyone?"


    A couple of hands went up as Ben sat the nachos platter down next to the Munchkins board as the village leadership started arguing over the card order-of-operations. In the kitchen was a busy assistant mixing some mashed potatoes while the oven roasted a turkey and some mac and cheese. The smells wafting through the house were making everyone hungry, hence Ben mixed up a batch of nachos.


    "Honey, use this card," Mrs. Holt suggested to her husband. "That way, if Peter tries to bring out his dragon costume, we can counter him!"


    "Have a seat," Ben offered, "the food''s almost ready."


    Tim went to sit down at the very edge of the couch, but Sue followed Ben into the kitchen and whispered in his ear, "What''s your angle?"


    "Oh, well, I tried making a turkey last Thanksgiving, and it was charcoal by the end of it," Ben laughed, "so I''ve been perfecting-"


    "No, I mean why all of this?" Sue growled in a low whisper.


    Ben winked as he said, "Down the hall on the right. If the TP''s out, get another from under the sink."


    Sue looked down the short hallway as her husband started conversing with Mr. Holt about their relation to Ben. The former supervillain followed Ben''s instructions and went down the hall where she opened the door farthest on the right. Inside was a half-bathroom with the standard trimmings of a guest room, except that the toilet paper was empty. The sink was sitting on a little cupboard with a single door.


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    When Sue opened the door, there was a small folded up piece of paper sitting on top of a replacement roll of toilet paper.


    "It was a clue," Sue hissed, feeling the slight thrill of being a villain working behind everyone''s backs.


    ''You want me to trust that you can keep my secret? We''ll see. Every person in my house is replaceable, including yourselves. I''m going to push the conversation to both of our pasts to test you on your lies. If you fail, everyone dies. Even the babysitter.''


    ''P.S. Replace the toilet paper and flush the note. That''s the only freebie you get.''


    Sue followed the note, her heart beating in her ears every second. The danger was in the air as she stepped out and put on the mask of an imperfect mother doing her best. She engaged the old people and made mental notes of their complex history. Her husband got a lot of attention for being a homely man from the next town over, and friendly rivalries flared as the villagers started bashing the township.


    When the food came out, it was a family meal for the ages. Turkey pulled apart by a chef''s hands, macaroni with bacon bits, mashed potatoes with thick gravy. The entire meal had biscuits throughout with butter and cranberry sauce.


    The entire time, Ben and his assistant, Hannah, were making Sue answer questions about a past that never happened, and the unwitting participants of the dinner would ask for details. Sue kept careful track of her lies and stories, making sure they matched chronologically and accounted for travel time. Her husband even asked a few questions and added commentary of "OH, that explains it", just to lend credibility to her stories.


    By the end of the night, people were trickling out of Ben''s little house until only Sue and Tim remained. They had drunk heavily as an excuse to stay behind a few more minutes to sober up before driving home, being carefully clever about their excuse.


    While Hannah was doing the dishes, Sue carefully asked in code, "So, how were we tonight? Did we behave to your liking?"


    "You guys were perfect," Ben offered, "better than I''ve done. You guys won''t have any trouble from me."


    "That''s great to hear," Tim breathed a sigh of relief. "Sue kept freaking out about the whole debacle."


    "What are you guys talking about?" Hannah asked, walking back to the dining area while drying off a plate.


    "Oh, hell," Ben griped.


    The city councilman reached underneath the table, pulling out a revolver handgun and aimed it between his assistant''s eyes.


    The gunshot made everyone jump as a red spray of blood and loud thump followed shortly after. Tim almost screamed, but a sudden strong grip from his wife''s acrylic nails caught him before his mouth opened. He looked at his wife, who was visibly shaking and had her eyes closed, prepared for the worst, then down at his arm to make sure he wasn''t bleeding.


    When he looked down, he saw the leg of the poor girl with a new hole in her head twitching sporadically as her labored breathing coughed and sputtered into lifelessness. Ben was silently checking the gun after it was fired, waiting for the dying groans of his side-neighbor to stop before continuing their conversation.


    "A-a-a-are you g-g-g-going t-t-to k-k-kill us n-n-n-now?"


    "Well, I would," Ben reasoned, waving the gun in the couple''s direction, "but honestly, I''ve made a few mistakes before. And I''d like to think I''m a changed man, so I''ll forgive you. But this can be cleaned up and she can be replaced. Clean up your own messes from now on. I really don''t feel like putting in vacation time for work like this."


    "We''ll be sure to do that," Tim said, breathing carefully in and out as a foul odor started lingering behind him. "Can we go?"


    "Sure," Ben said, "would you like me to show you to the door?"


    "We''ve got it," Sue said, then tried not to rush while hurrying out of the house.


    The door slammed behind them and Ben smiled when he heard the tires screeching to get away.


    "Idet, did you get that?" Ben asked.


    "Their conscious tethers have been registered and their DNA was collected," said a floating ball of light.


    "How are you doing? Did you collect info on human interaction?"


    "I''m aware of a sadness I have watching you shoot Hannah."


    "I''m kinda freaking out about it, too," Hannah said, emerging from the basement door hauling a duffel bag. "Like, I know it''s a clone, but I''m still uncomfortable with it."


    "It''s not a clone," Ben said, getting up from his seat and walking around to the dead body. He reached down and pulled at the double''s face, peeling off a skin mask revealing scaly orange skin of an alien being with a bullet hole in its head.


    "What the fuck?!" Hannah screeched, jumping at the visage of another worlder. "What the fuck is this?!"


    "It''s a Yuchah," Ben said, "a desert planet species that know their death six months before it occurs thanks to a blackening of the scales."


    Ben pointed to a few scales across the head that had a black discoloration, "They''ve capitalized on this genetic quirk to offer their death in exchange for services. You can pay to kill them for your own reasons, and the money goes to their families after they die."


    "You honestly just paid to kill someone," Hannah accused in disbelief.


    "I paid to end their life a few weeks early; yes, for my own selfish benefit. And I always tip heavily, on top of the extravagant expense the service already is. In fact, I''m particularly known among the Yuchah as the ''Divine Angel of Death'' for guaranteed employee satisfaction."


    Immediately after Ben said this, the body twitched with the last remnant of life, so Ben reached under the coffee table and pulled out a glowing, swirling metal contraption that he tossed on the body. A soft glow spread across the alien creature and dissolved it into a gentle mist.


    "Idet, could you please guide T''L''ui to a gentle part of the afterlife," Ben requested of his glowing companion. "I need to send the video of his final moments to his family."


    "What did you just do?!" Hannah screamed. "Where did he go?!"


    "I alchemized his atoms into water," Ben stated. "The Yuchah are desert planet people, so water is a religious item for them. It''s considered a royal way to go. Actually, forget all that, did you assume that I, a former supervillain, had some problem with killing people?"


    "I thought you weren''t so okay with it! It shouldn''t be this easy!"


    "Oh, it wasn''t easy the first time," Ben said, "but it gets easier once you''ve got an idea of what you''re doing. I actually celebrated my hundredth kill."


    "Couldn''t you just clone me, or something?!"


    "Hells no! That would be unethical!"

 Chapter 16 - Resting On Laurels

    Ben couldn''t quite imagine how it could get worse. Kids were impossible to handle.


    Katherine got it into her head that their winning streak was going to the moon, and started advertising the team with posters that she hung up around school. She was trying to get more kids to go to their games, which would be like inviting people out to a cancer ward to watch you make fun of the children. Garret and Stanley even started a debate in their speech class about the morality of powers for show, of which Stanley argued against.


    About the only good news was that Jeff was pulling out, something he admitted with a black eye and a promise that there was no domestic abuse in his household. The kids were sad to see him go, but Ben had expected as much. Involvement of a Humanity First member with metahumans was always going to be short-lived. Still, he left behind an exercise plan that was almost as detailed as Ben''s tactical procedures.


    Now that the kids were largely self-involved with the team, Ben started taking some days off from the team to focus on council work. The city parks department were trying to muscle in on the care of the village parks, and Ben was spearheading the effort to fight them off. There were only three parks in the area anyway, but fighting the big bad metropolitan park association made him a hero in the municipality''s eyes. And because Ben did an early morning jog through the park near his home, he was able to oversee its care personally. Unfortunately, nobody really took care of the other parks, until Ben got the super team to do practices there and get some community service hours in.


    Things were looking up, and it was about time for the next game to commence, which Ben was going to host at the Tomahawk Trailhead where they''ve been cleaning up. It was another Hero Hunt, so all he had to do was get the flags for the four corners of the arena and go from there. He decided to play the game at the center of the field where a large tree was sitting all by its lonesome.


    On the day of the big game, a surprising amount of people showed up. Katherine''s advertisements must have worked better than he thought, because the onlookers were spilling over the edge of the peanut-gallery''s side. Ben was despairing right up until the point that the other team showed up and brightened his weary, February-frozen heart.


    The Peak Town High School team looked like actual contenders, set with team jerseys and even cleats for the cold ground.


    "Alright, this isn''t looking so easy," Ben said in a huddle before the game. "These guys seem like serious contenders. Keep an eye out for their powers, and try to use the terrain to your advantage. The snow melted and the ground is thawed, see if you can''t make them slip up."


    That was all it took for Gary to come up with a devious strategy, and the games began with their team on the hunting side. When the game started, everyone fanned out with Gary up the middle as the enemy team member used jets in his feet to get onto the tree as fast as possible. He started to climb, only for constructs to appear around his choice of branches. When he tried to grab one, it dissolved and he swiftly fell the inch necessary it took for him to lose his grip. He banged off a tree branch before thankfully being caught by a flimsy construct Gary set up to not cripple the guy.


    The players returned to their sides and the timer started up again, only for the guy to activate the power in his legs and flip backwards as his feet slipped.


    Gary had timed it right and created a construct under his foot that stopped the cleats from gripping anything, and the poor fool landed on his face with a foot touching the back of his head as his body folded on itself.


    This elicited an ''ooh'' and collective sucking of air through teeth as the audience watched the painful landing. Gary, however, burst out laughing, and he didn''t stop laughing until the end of the designated minute when the next player came out.


    This person was part bird, with feathers around his face fashioned into a beard, and judging from the way he eyed Garret, most likely a predator. The kid took his shoes off before the match to reveal a set of talons for vicious grip.


    The game started and the bird charged towards the tree, where it leaped a dozen feet into the air and latched onto a branch. It hung there due to a twenty-foot rule and watched mockingly as the team had to struggle to climb the tree in order to reach the bird. It seemed the bird person was in its natural habitat, leaping gayly from perch to perch until a foul was called for going higher than twenty feet.


    When the teams were set off again, the bird leaped into the tree once more, then the perch he was going for disintegrated as Gary cut off the construct. Garret was able to sprint-slither fast enough to catch the bird-person, triggering points on their end. Katherine, Stanley, and Michael felt a little left out as the super team for this game were the two Gs.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The next gal had ice powers, something Katherine took particular note of, calling ''that bitch'' her ''nemesis''. Rather than do any running, she froze the area around her and waited for the other team to approach while making the terrain as unfriendly as possible. Katherine made Gary construct a sled while she stood on front and melted the ice before it could form, securing a thirty-second tag. Next, Katherine took the boys around the side while Michael snuck in across an ice sheet and got the tag.


    The fourth contender just had super strength, and immediately fouled twice for jumping over the twenty-foot barrier. He then stomped the ground and sent a plume of dirt into the air to distract him running around the side. He managed to slip away from the team for the next fifty seconds, securing an almost even point advantage for their side.


    The fifth, however, lost the plot as her power to generate gusts of wind got her nowhere fast.


    Finally, it was time to switch sides, and the first up to escape was Katherine. She started on the side where all the action was happening and managed to burn the leftover ice into steam to cover her tracks and narrowly escape for a full thirty seconds at a time. Next was Gary, who was as toxic as always. He would trip up the other team, use his constructs as brief footholds on mud, and even construct barriers right before someone was about to touch him so it didn''t count.


    "At least his activation speed is improving," Ben chewed his nails angrily as his player started laughing at the ice queen he''d just slipped into mud.


    Stanley was next and was the loose end, as always. The kid with jets on his feet scored point after point on the regular human, slipping only once and giving the boy a foul for his side.


    Garret was much better, using his natural snake-like movements to make the kids whiff on a few close-calls. The bird person seemed desperate to get his talons on Garret, but the boy was able to slither on the branches much faster than the bird could jump through.


    Michael just turned invisible, and none of the kids had a way of locating him outside of random chance, so he secured the win.


    The final point total was 36 to 32, a close game but Jefferson High School took home the victory. Ben was able to approach Gary and start coaching him before the testosterone receptacle could grunt and howl in victory. But Ben found that his efforts were in vain, as the Jefferson High peanut gallery went absolutely banana-milk crazy and whooped their way onto Ben''s nerves. The sheer force with which they bellowed into the sky made Ben embarrassed to be from the same town as these hooting rednecks.


    Because it was a hometown game, everyone got to just go home afterwards. Ben basically followed Hannah to the local bar, where he was bought drinks by some patrons who also hit the bar immediately after.


    "God, that was exhausting," Ben admitted while sipping a whiskey neat. "Now I know why so many people scream at football games."


    Some folks came over and congratulated Ben on a good game, then Jeff walked in and some murmuring started.


    "How''d you like the game from the other side?" Ben asked pointedly.


    "It was calmer," said the dad, looking around nervously. "Congrats on the win."


    "Ah, those kids deserve the credit," Ben replied with another sip, "I just don''t know what to get''em. I''m not exactly a kid myself."


    "Yeah..., how old are you?"


    "I''m twenty-six," Ben stated. "God, I feel old just saying that."


    "You brat!" Jeff grumbled, giving Ben a light smack on the back of the head. "Don''t come talking to me about age until you''re thirty!"


    "Where''s Stanley, I thought you were taking him home?"


    "I live right around the corner here," Jeff pointed east. "You didn''t know? I thought you could see the address on my wallet?"


    "Doesn''t mean I know where the address is," Ben complained. In reality, he had a full list of every Humanity First member and their address on a village map he kept in his computer. "Besides, I''d need to pay attention to stuff specifically to get the details on it, like printed words."


    "I thought you saw everything?"


    "You were at the park, right? How many words were on the sign that welcomes you in?"


    "I dunno. Didn''t really pay attention."


    "Same thing. You know how there''s this filter in our brains that stops us from remembering everything our senses register? Mine''s still there, and it filters out a bunch of that stuff."


    "So you didn''t know I had this?" Jeff said, reaching down to his waist. Ben didn''t see anything, and Jeff didn''t grab anything, but he still acted like he did and then presented to Ben a long middle finger.


    The two laughed and drank a little, softening up the bar to their antics as they joined together in alcoholism.


    Ben only drank enough to lose focus every once in a while, while Jeff drank non-stop into the night. By the time Ben stumbled out into his car, Jeff had passed out in one of the booths.


    After fumbling with his keys for five minutes, he called Hannah to come pick him up. The dour assistant drove by and saw her boss almost stumble into the street to join her. He got into the car he''d bought her and giggled to himself.


    "What''s so funny?" she asked.


    "I-I''m sorry," he apologized between chuckles, "but I was just thinking that now would be the perfect time to pretend like I''m super wasted and see if you''ll actually sleep with me."


    "I''ll sleep with you anytime," Hannah offered, pulling over to the side of the road as if they were gonna do it right there.


    "No, it would hurt you," Ben hiccuped.


    "I know you would never hurt me," Hannah leaned in for a kiss.


    Ben put up a finger to her lips while hiccupping, "I *hic* didn''t mean phys*hic*ally. You''ve been unde*hic*r your dad for so long, you need to grow indipen-*hic*-dence. Dance? Any*hic*way, I''m desperate for love *hic* and affe*hic*tion, and I would take you in an instant, but that *hic* would just put you under someone else. If *hic* we want to be *hic* more than fuckbuddies, you need to *hic* be able to reject me, without risking yoursel*hic*f. I can''t be your c*hic*rutch, we have to *hic* be equals."


    Ben slouched over, his face burning from alcohol-fueled embarrassment as Hannah looked at him closely.


    "Have you really been thinking of me, or is this just another ploy?"


    "Both," Ben hiccupped. "What makes you think all ploys *hic* are bad?"

 Chapter 16.5 - The Unbreakable Sword God

    After a productive day of telling the city parks to kiss his ass, Ben was driving to practice with a bored but contented sigh. He could remember when every day was so busy, he had to schedule sleep for the gaps in his regular schedule.


    When he arrived at the school, there was a commotion around the entrance as some teachers tried talking to a man wearing baggy robes and carrying a sword on his hip. The teachers noticed Ben''s truck and flagged him down, so he detoured to the entrance where a closer look let him notice who the man was, and he secretly had a heart attack.


    "Ben, do you know this guy?" demanded Mrs. Tenpenny, a Social Studies teacher who badly needed to get fucked.


    "Al?" Ben asked, putting his truck in park and getting out to approach the ronin-looking, man-bun-having swordsmen. "Are you cosplaying out here? At a school?"


    "James," the swordman said while resting his hand on the hilt, "I need your help."


    "Thank you, Ms. Tenpenny," Ben thanked sincerely, "I''ll take it from here. Could you tell the students that practice will be a strength day?"


    "Who is this man?" the history teacher demanded, glancing at the neckline of the robe where the swordsman''s profound muscles shone through. "Is that weapon real?"


    "He''s a cosplayer, my dear," Ben quickly excused. "Come with me, Al. I''ll get you where you need to be."


    Ben shuffled the swordsmen into his passenger seat while placating the teachers that everything is fine and taken care of. Only the swordsman could tell that the village councilman was leaking a killing intent that was suffocating to be around.


    Once they were on the road, Ben pointed to the glove compartment and asked, "Could you hand me the glove in there?"


    The swordsmen worked the latch off and found the item, handing it to Ben, who fit the glove onto his hand. The driver then pulled a hard right into a forested road that hadn''t seen activity since the early-Cretaceous. The swordsman was thrown for a loop, but recovered just in time to see the glove pointed at him as it hummed to life. Ben had an expression of fury that sent chills up the experienced warrior''s spine.


    "You have one minute to tell me what the hell you think you''re doing," Ben threatened, "and if I don''t like the answer, I''m going to rip it out of your hide."


    "I''m in trouble," said the swordsman, unlatching his sword and presenting it to Ben. "I''ve offended a god and was given tribulation as recompense."


    "You should know I hate dealing with gods, Alsace," Ben griped, but he noticed the sword in a bit more detail. It was nothing special, except that the metal of the blade was atomically perfect and synchronized down to the neutron. That was impossible, even for the greatest smiths and metallurgists in the universe, which meant this item was divine, constructed by a god''s hand.


    "I''m afraid you''re the only one who can help me," Alsace pleaded while Ben took the sword and inspected it closely. "An order of holy men who practice bodily arts sought me out to challenge their martial spirits. I defeated them, but they did not make it easy, and most of them died."


    "And their deity didn''t like that?" Ben guessed.


    "She loved it," the swordsman sighed, "but she didn''t take my rejection of her blessing lightly. I was given this sword and told that if my sword arts were superior to hers, I could break the sword within a year."


    "Pause that, I need to focus," Ben said as he started fiddling with his watch. He clicked the dial, flipped a switch, then pressed the watch itself. He sucked in air as his worldview shifted, extending beyond the physical into the realm of filtered energy sub-structures.


    "What did the goddess say she would do after the year elapsed?"


    "She was going to claim my soul."


    "Right," Ben said half-heartedly. "Oh, that''s new!"


    "What?"


    "The enchantments on this sword are set to constantly heat it up while simultaneously cooling it once the atomic structure is crystalline. It basically self-repairs to its hardest form all the time, and then forcefully drains your body''s energy to maintain a protective aura for a little extra spice."


    "Can you help me break it?"


    "I can, but I won''t. Instead, I''m going to give you the means to break it yourself."


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Ben started the car up and drove home, pulling into his garage and going straight into the basement warehouse. Along one wall of boxes was a device that looked like a tesseract crossed with a magic 8 ball.


    "What do you know of time dilation?" Ben asked while he pulled out a bunch of wires and started hooking things together.


    "I don''t even know what that means," Alsace admitted.


    "Time dilation is basically the difference in time experienced by two objects under different accelerated forces. It''s best analogized by our two worlds moving at different relative speeds, so one minute here is a minute and twenty seconds on your world."


    "You''ve spoken of the time change before, which is why I didn''t want to risk coming here in case the deadline came sooner."


    "Right, well, there are places where the time dilation is enormous, or in the case, so small, it''s almost like time is stopped. If you go to the edge of the universe, the center of the universe will seem like it''s barely moving at all, and if you keep going beyond the borders of the universe, time will continuously go slower and slower. Years ago, I set up this device which strategically combines a tesseract and a wormhole to be constantly moving further and further away, putting the time dilation at a near infinitesimally low ratio. Basically, a room for stopped time."


    "You''re going to go in there and you''re not going to come out until you can either break the sword or kill the god. Thankfully the sword itself doesn''t have a timer, which means the goddess is tracking it, so you''ll be able to break the seal."


    The swordsman eyed the contraption uneasily, "Isn''t there an easier way to do this?"


    "Several," said Ben openly, "but this is a goddess we''re talking about. She made this impossible for you, so if I break her little game, she''s going to come after me. This way, I avoid liability and you get stronger."


    "How long do you think it will take?"


    "Depends on how good you are," Ben admitted, "but I''d give you a hundred years or so. You''re an immortal, right?"


    "Very well," the swordsman accepted, "if this is the price I must pay to be rid of the goddess, I shall do it gladly."


    "Tell me that once you''ve paid it," Ben said sourly. "Just one thing, this is technically a one-way trip. If you want to come back, you''re going to need to cut the space yourself."


    "It sounds like seclusion training," Alsace grinned. "Do I just step up here, or -"


    The swordsman stepped onto the platform and disappeared as space folded around him, transporting him beyond the edge of the universe. Ben smacked himself in the forehead at the sheer idiocy of just walking into altered space-time without protection, but only for a moment.


    Like the distant howl of winds, the room seemed to wave as space and time contorted around the machine, then a bubble popped in the fabric of reality and the swordsman stood on the machine once more.


    Where before he was a grizzled veteran mercenary of foreign wars, now stood a demigod of incomparable strength and grandeur. His hair flowed for yards behind him like a mountain stream as his eyes glowed and cackled with barely contained divine energy. His robes that once lay draped over his body were now tight against his godly physique which grew in relation to his ascended willpower. He hovered slightly off the ground as he gazed around the room, as if fondly remembering the place he had been only seconds ago.


    "Ready to go home?" Ben asked Alsace, who looked at him as if for the first time.


    "That was not a hundred years," the demigod accused, floating towards Ben threateningly.


    "How long do you suppose, then?" Ben asked casually as reality curved around the swordsman.


    "I never bothered to count. When I arrived in the void, I focused solely on swinging my sword. I swung until I was tired, then I swung until I was rested. I swung until it hurt, then I swung until I was healed. I swung when I wanted to, and I swung when I didn''t want to. I swung until I was fast enough to cut light, then I swung slow enough to match the compressed flow of time. I swung until I went insane, then I swung until I was sane again. When I stopped swinging my sword, I swung with my imagination, until I was able to swing the sword with my mind. My willpower became the sword itself, and I swung between swings."


    The god of swords reached to his hip and pulled out the unbreakable sword, except that there was no blade. It had been worn down to the hilt and even the metal which belonged inside the hilt was gone. He rolled his wrist which held the hilt and the world seemed to bend and sharpen until the universe itself formed into a sword on his command.


    "Now, my sword is everything and everywhere," Alsace stated.


    "Congratulations on accepting your divine principle," Ben said. "You even have that new deity smell, but you should probably show that goddess what-for."


    "For millennia, I have considered the mere intentions of a minor deity beneath me," the newly minted higher being said, "but now that I have returned... I wish to test my new sword."


    "Go for it, big guy," Ben offered, "but when the Councilius Deus make contact with you, try to hide the fact that I had a hand in this."


    Alsace smirked, "It is as you said long ago. There is no upper limit, there is only the climb. I am certain you have thought of this, but this council will surely pester you. Are they not going to be worse than the goddess whose ire you were trying to avoid?"


    "Oh, naw," Ben dismissed, "the council already know I''m not someone they can handle. It''s just the minor deities that talk shit and don''t know their place that I find annoying."


    "This is why I waited until I was out of options before seeking your aid," sighed the sword god, crossing his arms. "Even as I have ascended above all, you still scare me.... And now that I have awakened higher senses, I can tell-"


    "-you''re a real monster."


    Reality divided on itself, then the new god was gone.


    Ben let the stuffy air clear a bit, then checked his watch and noted, "Hey, I can still make the last half of practice!"


    He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed a number, and Katherine answered, "Coach? What''s up?"


    "How''s practice going?"


    "We''re on a run right now."


    "What?! I told Ms. Tenpenny today was a strength day! I finished what I was doing, I''m coming down and we''re doing the hell core!"


    "Oh god, please no! My abs are still sore from last week!"


    "Too bad," Ben smiled wickedly. "Besides, there are worse ways to train."

 Chapter 17 - The Kind Kind of Man

    Ben woke up for a pleasant Sunday morning with nothing but his couch and a book jamboree prepared.


    You see, Ben''s power allowed him to read between the pages of a closed book, even though he needed to focus on the words intentionally. He''s used this quirk to walk through large amounts of printed texts and just absorb the information. He did this in libraries, colleges, and highly classified information vaults.


    This day however, he had gathered a bunch of pop-culture books that people seemed to like and was ready to be the king of cultured conversation at work. The books were stacked in piles around the couch where a fluffy pillow fort had been piled complete with blankets and a foot warmer.


    Exiting his bedroom, he went to the kitchen and checked the fridge for breakfast plates worth his time.


    "Lean protein for the immediate wake-up and carbs for the long haul," he said, smiling as a classic breakfast option popped up on the filtered list. "Chicken and waffles!"


    The fridge didn''t mention anything about dietary concerns, it had learned its lesson last time. Sam breaded and fried the chicken, throwing a little bacon on there for a side, and to soak the grease into the breading. While that was cooking on the pan, he had to find both the waffle-iron and the pancake mix at the back of their respective cupboards. The waffle mix was easy and over in the twenty minutes it took to really crisp the bacon and soak the chicken.


    Ben sat down at the dinner table and cracked open a plain glass bottle with a thick, brown liquid inside. The maple syrup didn''t quite drool, it was almost like jelly as Ben used a knife to spread the concoction on his waffles to hold the chicken in place.


    "Homemade, is best made," Ben said as he set the syrup down and picked up his utensils. "FUCK!"


    The doorbell rang after Sam cursed, and the councilman stood up with such aggression, his chair was kicked back into the wall. He marched around the table, across the living room, to the front door and swung it open.


    Standing on his front porch was a familiar redhead, clearly in distress, tears treading down her makeup free face.


    "What?" Ben asked, with an undertone of ''I-will-skin-you-alive-if-this-is-about-some-bullshit''.


    "Some new guys jumped Timmy," Sue said, wiping a tear away. "They took my family and want-"


    "NO!" Ben roared and the light fixture on the porch opened up and pointed a long, blue spike at the uninvited guest. "This is not my problem. This is your problem. I have nothing to do with this. I''m a simple city councilman. Solve it by yourself."


    "My family-!"


    "Is not my family! Get the hell off my porch before I call the cops."


    Ben slammed the door behind him and pressed the door knob so that the blue spear started thrusting at Sue, forcing her off his property. She drove away with the squeal of burning tires and Ben watched her leave with a breath of relief.


    Back to his books, Ben laid down on his specially prepared couch and closed his eyes with a gentle grin. He started with the most highly recommended book, Lord of the Bings. The speed of comprehension his dimensional sight gave him allowed him to complete the book within two hours, and immediately move onto The Two Phones.


    Ben didn''t move anything except for his face for almost four hours, having gotten through the Lord of the Bings trilogy and starting on The City of Brass. He felt a little hungry and got up to have lunch, frying up some pot stickers before getting back to it.


    He laid down and tried to find his spot, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn''t recognize the number, so he begrudgingly put the phone to his ear and answered.


    "Hello, this is Ben, City Councilman," Ben said to the stranger.


    "Ben, this is officer Renfield, from the Darl City Police Station. We have a child here who says you''re their guardian."


    "Katherine, Gary, Garrett, Stanley, or Michael?"


    "Uh, Stanley," said the officer, a bit taken aback by the supposed other guardians.


    "What did he do?"


    "He was arrested on a count of vigilantism. Would you happen to know how to contact his parents? He had the contacts in his phone, but he told us to call you."


    "His parents are Humanity First extremists," Ben said. "It''s a very harsh home life. I''m the only adult meta-human in the county, so he comes to me for power-related things. What were the charges, again?"


    "We still need to alert the parents," the officer said, ignoring the question. "Do you have their number?"


    "Yes, let me get it here," Ben said, opening his phone to check his contacts for Jeff. He relayed the number and the cop thanked him for the information.


    Ben was about to hang up, but ground his teeth to ask, "I don''t suppose I could talk to the man in question?"


    "I was just about to hand you over," said the officer as the phone switched hands.


    "Ahh, I was really hoping you would keep this a secret from my parents," said Stanley''s voice. "Didn''t you promise to keep everything a secret?"


    "That''s for my power," Ben stated, "if you come out and tell me, the secret is under my discretion. What happened?"


    "Ah, well, psh, I kinda... ran away from home.... I had a fight with my mum about helping out the team. I always thought, as much as she hates powers, she figured I could still use them to try and save people. Turns out, she would rather I watch people die than use the devil''s contract."


    "No comment. Continue."


    "So, I ran away from home, and," Stanley choked up a bit, "made it into Darl."


    "Why the city?"


    "I just felt like it. Like, I wanted to change my surroundings and the vibe of my settings, you know?"


    "I get the gist of what you just said. Continue."


    "So, I started looking around for somewhere to sleep, and I found a dry spot behind a restaurant. I fell asleep, then I woke up and heard this scuffle. I got up and looked around, and saw these two guys fighting. I tried yelling at them to stop, and they pulled out knives and started stabbing each other."


    "Okay, don''t say anything else while in police custody. Plead the fifth from now on. Which precinct are you at?"


    "The 35th."


    "Okay, I should be there before your dad, but your dad''s the only one who can pull you out. Say nothing. They can only press charges if they''ve got something to stick you with. Don''t give them that something."


    "Okay."


    "Hanging up now," Ben declared.


    Once the phone line went dead, Ben groaned with all the air in his lungs.


    "Fuck these kids! They suck up every weekend!"


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    Still, the city councilman donned a presentable jacket and started his car up, setting his GPS to Darl''s 35th Police Precinct. It was a thirty-five minute drive along mostly highway, which worked for Ben, who hated city driving and avoided it at most costs. He arrived fashionably late and noticed Jeff''s truck already parked in the visitor section.


    Walking into the precinct and ground his teeth when he heard the familiar screeching of Stanley''s harpy mother. She was shouting obscenities at the poor receptionist, who was probably just doing his job. Jeff was standing next to his wife, holding the woman back so she didn''t leap over the desk and subsequently join her son behind bars.


    Ben worked his way around the precinct until he was at another desk, waving to try and get Jeff''s attention without his wife noticing.


    Unfortunately, she noticed.


    "YOU!" she screamed, still being held back by Jeff. "YOU DID THIS!"


    "I''m just here to help," Ben said, putting his hands up in surrender. "How''s Stanley doing?"


    "YOU SOLD MY SON TO THE DEVIL! HE''S COMPLETED THE PACT ON YOUR-"


    "The boy''s fine," Jeff said, putting his hand over his wife''s mouth to soften her freakout. "Why did he call you first?"


    "He was hoping I would keep this a secret from you two," Ben offered, nodding to the maniacal woman in Jeff''s arms. "But you are his parents and have the right to know what''s happening with your son."


    Mrs. Chevis pulled away from her husband, but didn''t resume screaming, "He called you first?"


    "He mentioned you guys had a fight," Ben said, and the mother recoiled, "and he probably didn''t want to make it worse."


    "Jeffery Chevis!" called an officer from behind the counter, and the family looked back to see their number was up.


    "He''s probably freaking out," Ben urged the couple to go, "keep calm and ask questions."


    The parents followed the officer into the back where Stanley was being held in a cell with two other guys. The parents broke down upon seeing their baby boy, who held back his own tears as they were reunited for a fast moment. But they didn''t hug each other or even try to reconcile, they kept a safe distance as if the other would explode. The family were led into the interrogation room and given space to talk it out together, and Stanley spilled the whole story.


    When he woke up, two guys were fighting and screaming at each other, stabbing each other in the chest like men possessed. Stanley tried to call out to them, then remembered how much he wanted to save people and used his power to push them back a little, just to get their attention. But when he did, they both turned on him, so he used his power to keep pushing them back, but then one of the guys slipped while trying to fight the levitation... directly onto his knife.


    Stanley freaked out and pushed the other guy harder, throwing him back while he ran away. He got a cop and pointed him down the alley where a homeless man had bled to death on a knife, and was arrested and put in jail.


    ''The cops think he did it,'' Ben realized after lip-reading the story from across the building. ''Some kid came running and showed them a dead body with a knife in his gut and no other person, he''s the most likely suspect. Him having powers that doesn''t require him to touch a blade makes it feasible that his fingerprints wouldn''t be on the scene.''


    And that''s the same thing Jeff must have thought, because the dad started asking some really tough questions that investigators wouldn''t even think to ask. He grilled his son, who eventually realized that his own father thought he had just murdered someone and was now blaming it on circumstance.


    ''I should probably figure out if he''s actually innocent,'' Ben thought, and he started fiddling with his watch.


    Once his vision expanded across the city, Ben did a preliminary search through the precinct to see the notes and reports about Stanley''s case. From that, he got the street address of the stabbing and found the street where a police unit had cordoned off the area. The scene was pretty disgusting, but Ben was able to recognize the blood splatter from where the body had been and even the difference in another blood stain nearby. He widened his view after assuming the other homeless man couldn''t have gotten far, and found the guy bleeding out in a dumpster in another alley.


    With a weary sigh, Sam got up, taking note of the anonymous tip line, and exited the lobby to make a call.


    "Hello?!" he cried in feminine distress. "There''s like, a dead body in my trash!"


    After passing along the address and location, and hung up right as his name was called to join the Chevis family.


    Heading into the precinct, Ben switched his watch back to a closer view and saw the family much further apart from each other, as though they had more of a falling out after he''d stopped paying attention. There was also a chubby woman in a business suit carrying a "Child Protective Services" badge sitting next to Stanley.


    Ben was ushered in and pretended to not know what was going on, "What''s happening? Are they releasing you?"


    Jeff scowled at Ben, who legitimately didn''t know why, until he eeked out, "Stanley has requested... that he stay at your house until the investigation is over."


    The chubby CPS agent handed him some papers which he signed like a responsible adult. While doing so, he sent a text message to Idet that Stanley would be coming over and to sanitize the house.


    It took six hours, and Ben felt his goodwill draining by the minute. He regularly contemplated just bailing on the whole thing and throwing away the mayoral grab next year, but he hunkered down and got through it. The CPS interviews were probably the most draining, and he kept in the back of his mind that this was not a good way to spend his Sunday evening.


    When he finally got into his car with Stanley in the passenger seat, Ben had been drained completely of all ability to keep up his customer service face.


    Without even asking, Ben drove to a Wendy''s and ordered a Baconator with a frosty, ordering some nuggets for Stanley, who said he didn''t want anything.


    "In my experience, not being hungry means you should eat something," Ben stated as he sucked his frosty down.


    Stanley begrudgingly ate the nuggets and had some of Ben''s fries as they drove back to their sleepy little village hamlet.


    "There''s only one thing I need to know," Ben said as he pulled onto his subdivision''s main road. "What was the fight you had with your parents that made you so angry that you left the house like that?"


    Stanley stooled in his angry embarrassment for a little while before answering, "My mom would rather die than let me save her.... I would rather be damned for all eternity than let my mother just die in front of me.... She just doesn''t get it, I can save people!"


    Ben was about to respond, but noticed something strange when he pulled up to his home. There was someone on his doorstep, slumped against the door with a UPS box in their lap. From this distance, it could have been Hannah back from a bender, trying to be cute, but there was something about how the box that made him doubt this was some joke.


    "Is this how supervillains are made?" Stanley asked sourly as Ben fiddled with his watch. "I thought about it, ya know? I''ve got good grades and a clean image, maybe I could do something fun with my powers."


    "You don''t want to do that," Ben said, half-focusing on his porch as he tried to decide how to handle this.


    "What would you know?" the kid asked. "You''ve never done anything interesting in your life."


    Ben''s eyes zoned out as his final iota of fucks drained away with an audible click of his tongue. He''d just sat through six hours of this kids bullshit charges and interviews, made the anonymous call that brought in the fucker who backed up his story, bought the brat dinner, and even missed his special Sunday reading time; and now the little bitch was going to trash talk him before staying at his house?


    "I''ll show you what I know," Ben said, "follow me."


    Stanley was a little perplexed as his coach drove right onto his own front lawn and slid out of the truck before it came to a full stop. The darkness surrounded them as Stanley stepped out onto unfamiliar ground, listening to a door open before Ben turned a porch light on and beckoned the kid closer. For the first time, Stanley stopped being absorbed in his own problems and saw the person leaning against the door wearing a trench coat and high heels. There was a bag over her head, a plain sports one that people throw around at conventions with the strap tied tightly around the head.


    "You see this box?" Ben asked as Stanley caught a foul stench from the stranger. "Open it."


    "Are-are they okay?" the boy asked, inching closer.


    "They were left alive on purpose," Ben stated dryly. "She''s not going to die anytime soon. Now open the box."


    Stanley was curious, but when he leaned down to grab the box, the foul odor assaulted him directly and got into his eyes. He recoiled form the smell, looking to Ben for some kind of explanation, but the councilman was just staring expectantly at the teen.


    "Open it."


    Stanley knelt down once more, holding his jacket over his nose while he pulled at the box with one hand. The masking tape was inexpertly applied, which allowed the kid to pull one side of easily, but the stench doubled when the box opened, gagging the child.


    "What the hell is in here?!" Stanley cried, his eyes shedding tears as he shielded his face from the pack.


    "The consequences of a villainous lifestyle," Ben said, leaning down and opening the package the rest of the way.


    Stanley braved a glance at the contents, and felt nausea hit him like a train as his stomach returned the Wendy''s nuggets and fries.


    Centered inside the repurposed cardboard box was the flaps of skin around Sue''s husband''s ears, surrounded by two dozen cut-off fingers that worked like packing peanuts. The fingers matched with a man, woman, and child. Though he hadn''t noticed on approach, the person slumped onto the doorway had their hands tucked into pockets which were stained red.


    "W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-" Stanley stammered as he crawled away from the bloody mass of tangled skin.


    "What is this?" Ben completed as the boy started to cry. "This is what happens to villains who can''t handle themselves. When they drop their guard, there''s always someone there to cut their throat and play hangman with the remains."


    Ben picked the package up, showing no sign of gentle care for the remains of another person, and brought it into the house. He then grabbed the woman by the collar of her trench coat and dragged her in as well. Stanley sat dazed in the yard as Ben turned on some lights and did something inside his house, only for a chill to run up his spine as Ben emerged with a frowning theater mask over his face.


    "W-w-w-w-what are you doing?!" Stanley pleaded as Ben grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him to the truck.


    Ben got into the driver''s seat, then stared at Stanley as the mask over Ben''s face slowly turned the sad frown into a wicked smile.


    "Something interesting."

 Chapter 18 - In The Belly of the Whale

    "Hey," Stanley finally spoke up after driving for a while, "shouldn''t we have t-t-taken that woman to a h-hospital?"


    "She''s in my infirmary now," Ben said, shifting into seventh gear as he hit an open part of the highway. "She''ll be healed by the time we return."


    "What''s going on? Like really?"


    "You know how you were talking about being a villain? I''m going to show you what it means to be a villain, and then we''re going to never speak of this again."


    "So, where are we going?"


    "There was a note in Sue''s mouth with the address of a warehouse in north Darl. That''s where the person who fucked up Sue is going to be."


    "C-c-could it be a t-t-trap?"


    "No," Ben stated with certainty.


    "How do you know?"


    "If they were going to lay a trap, it would''ve been on Sue."


    Stanley sat in the passenger side seat while nervously tapping his foot on the rubber floor mat.


    Ben pulled off the highway and onto an industrial road with heavy construction on all sides. It was silent due to it being close to midnight, but Stanley swore he could see something curling in the shadows.


    "It''s your imagination," Ben pre-empted.


    "How do you know?"


    "Because my sight can see everything around us, and there''s nothing there. But your eyes are darting around as if you''re tracking something. It''s an illusion mixing darkness and light, making it seem like there''s movement. There''s nothing there."


    Stanley just stared ahead as the road became noticeably less smooth. The even pavement gave way to coarse gravel as they entered the abandoned steel mills that used to be Darl''s primary revenue source before a tornado dumped toxic chemicals into the waterways. The spill was so bad, they had to jam a dam down the river, stopping the flow so the chemicals remained in the water, ruining the trade and manufacturing at once.


    Ben drove up through the abandoned complex where rusted iron made ancient walkways over their heads as they drover deeper into an old, groaning facility.


    Without warning, Ben turned the car so that it swung all the way around, facing the opposite direction as he backed up the last few feet to a wall of sheet metal.


    "Follow me," he told the kid he was fostering, "but stay close."


    Ben got out while turning the car off, the engine sputtering to a stop as the lights died, giving Stanley the visibility of a mole.


    "BEN!" he hissed in a whisper, only for a handle to startle the boy. "Fine, I guess I''ll guide you."


    Stanley felt a hand on his back pushing him forward, his feet stumbling over the rocky, uneven surface without the grip to resist.


    The darkness drew all shapes and sizes in his mind, until they rounded some sort of corner and saw a single warehouse with light bleeding through the windows. They were heading for a small crack of light that barely showed the surrounding door frame, which Ben unceremoniously jarred open with a loud, scraping noise.


    "WHO THE FUCK GOES THERE!?" screamed a high-pitched man as the inside of the warehouse brightened and hummed with mysterious energy.


    "You leave a dead woman on my doorstep as an invitation," said Ben as he stepped around some debris, revealing himself and Stanley, "and you don''t even roll out the red carpet when I get here?"


    Standing around a table in the center of the warehouse were three grown men wearing armor plating with yellow smiley faces on the plate carriers.


    "So, you were the villain that Red Rocker was talking about," said the bald guy, pointing a gun at Ben''s mask. "Who are you?"


    "You don''t know?"


    "SHE WAS QUIET!" yelled a guy with a wild yellow mohawk and whose hands had balls of energy in them that illuminated the room. "SHE WOULDN''T SCREAM! BUT HER FAMILY DID! HAHAHAHA!"


    "I see," said Ben, bowing slightly as he realized Sue had kept her promise and had only just made it to his house without revealing anything. "Well, since it won''t make a difference anyway, you lot can call me The Gentleman."


    The bald man inhaled sharply, cocking the gun to the side and loading a round that contained some sort of liquid capsule.


    "I''m sorry to bother you, sir," the bald man apologized without dropping his aim. "I didn''t mean to disturb you."


    "Bro," said the goon who wore a smiley mask to match his body armor, "what are you doing?!"


    "Shut it."


    "What''s your deal?!"


    "Shut up!"


    The smiley masked man reached for his own sidearm, a slingshot with a string band made of alien material. He easily slipped a smooth ball bearing into the sling''s pouch and pulled it back, only to get shot in the arm by the bald man. The pod broke around the goon''s arm and hardened immediately, creating a concrete-style rock that bound his arm to his body.


    "Don''t you fucking dare!" the bald man threatened, chambering another pod and pointing it at the smile on his mask. "I will seal that damn mask to your face."


    "What the FUCK man?!"


    "I agree," Ben called out. "What. The. Fuck?"


    "I''m Con Creete, this beside me is my brother, Sling, and the guy behind us is Caustic," the bald man introduced the trio.


    "HELLO!" screamed the disturbed Caustic.


    "Good evening," Ben reciprocated. "What part was I supposed to have in this?"


    "We''re recruiting right now. We bring in a villain, and if they don''t join, we get them to name a villain who might, and then we repeat. Red Rocker-"


    "Sue," Ben corrected.


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    "Sue," Con Creete said, "was named by Gargantua, but she didn''t want to give up any contact."


    "What made you think she had one?"


    "A villain always keeps up with another villain. Even we grabbed her man and son, she was tight-lipped. She caved, but only if she went personally. I honestly thought she had just run out on the boys, but here you are."


    "So," Sling said while struggling to get the solidified goo off, "are you going to join or are we going to have to-"


    "NO," Creete said, raising the gun back at his brother''s face. "The Gentleman is retired, and I don''t want to be the one who brings him back in the game."


    "AAAAA, HE''S A NICE MAN WITH SPIDERS IN HIS EARS!"


    "What the fuck man?!" Sling shouted at his brother, who primed the cartridge to shoot. "Why the fuck are you ready to suck this guy''s dick like he''s Jesus Ghandi Christ?!"


    The bald man kept his gun ready as he circled the table to his brother, then swung the hilt to strike the plexiglass of the mask. The crack was quiet, but the shouts were clearer as Sling fell, only to be kicked while he was down by his big, bad brother.


    "You fucking punk!" Creete swore, sticking the gun into the broken mask and pressing the barrel painfully into his face. "This job used to be a fucking nightmare! The Hero Squad had a fucking god on their side, and they weren''t afraid of shit! They''d steamroll villains like we were candy for the taking, just because some big, blue bastard gave them big, blue balls to do what they wanted!"


    "Then The Gentleman comes along, and he flips the whole script in its head! He makes Hero Squad look like bitches, and suddenly heroes aren''t so keen to be out on the streets anymore. Then their big, blue golden-boy gets wiped, and they go nuts! Suddenly, hero safety is the primary concern, the money and jewels are just replaceable commodities. Villains get the head start for once, and the man who delivered us from heroes was just disturbed by our trivial little bullshit! You better get ready to suck his cock, because he''s the only reason I even let you be a villain!"


    "But-... you said I was ready," Sling whined.


    "The stage is ready, not you," Con Creete spat. "Now that the heroes have a response time and underpowered weenies, it''s the golden age of villains! And the man who did it is standing right there! Now show some fucking respect!"


    Con slapped his brother again, then got off of him and apologized to The Gentleman for the spectacle. Sling pouted, but also apologized.


    "Mhm," Ben said, unamused by the display. "That''s all very amusing, but, unfortunately, I prefer my privacy over letting you live. Please understand."


    "Fuck," Creete swore, pointing the gun at Ben and firing it immediately.


    Ben remained statuesque as the pod shattered across his mask and hardened around his head.


    "Don''t give him time!" Con shouted, charging towards The Gentleman while loading a different pod into the gun.


    As the trio darted towards Ben, the substance around his head suddenly split with a loud crack, then fragmented like a grenade, shooting hardened shrapnel back at his enemies. Caustic threw the ball of energy forwards which released a toxic surface of glowing dust in front of the group, defending them from the bombardment but blocking them from advancing.


    Con Creete raised his gun to fire through the cloud blindly, only for The Gentleman to jump through the cloud to his right, aiming for Caustic. Before the villain could unleash another toxic energy blast, a shoulder was buried firmly in his gut and arms wrapped around his legs to get him off balance. Ben tackled and rolled over the villain, whose body armor didn''t protect from the ground impact. The roll got Ben to the table, which he grabbed to change direction and avoid a backshot from Con Creete.


    "Got him!" Sling shouted, releasing a bearing from his sling that was deflected when Ben slammed his fist on the table, sending two days of fast food trash and planning equipment into the air. The simple ball bearing fired like a high caliber round, hitting a welding mask that had been on the table and obliterating it.


    "Just shoot," Creete shouted, "don''t announce yourself!"


    The table was flipped over and started to advance as cover. Sling flung another round right through the table, but it didn''t stop the advance. Creete fired a round where the table met the concrete, halting the move and giving them some time.


    "GET THE CHILD!" screeched Caustic, charging another ball as the other two villains remembered The Gentleman came with a kid.


    Stanley, who had been shocked into stillness, found three villains aiming deadly weapons in his direction.


    "CEASE"


    On command, the fight stopped. The villains froze, pointing their weapons at a young boy, who similarly couldn''t move.


    No, not couldn''t.


    Wouldn''t.


    All of them could feel their muscles shaking and quivering, they could see the dust settling, and they noticed how the lights outside still flickered. The world continued to move, they themselves were frozen by a force they didn''t recognize. But it was in their mind, telling them that if they moved, they would die. A primordial fear etched deeper than the mind could grasp.


    Stepping out from behind the table, a man wearing a frowning mask walked leisurely through the former arena as if it were his home after a long day of work. He kicked some dust towards the villains as he went to Stanley''s side and placed a hand on the boys shoulder, crouching until the eyes of his mask were level with the kids.


    "The first rule of any fight," Ben preached, "have a trump card. And when you''re fighting villains, have twenty. When you came here, how many did you prepare?"


    Stanley couldn''t answer, and he didn''t know why. He could feel his mouth tremble, but the words he wanted to say weren''t exiting his lips. It was like there was a disconnect between his brain and his mouth, but there wasn''t-


    And that''s when Stanley looked into the eyes of the mask and his entire body shook with tremors of an endless fear. The eyes, which had been closed last he noticed, were now open, and they seemed to emit a darkness that stole heat from the body and air from the lungs. The darkness that once flickered with the light, an illusion of the mind, was actually moving from the depths of the masks empty sockets. Something was down there, something filled with hate and a desire to kill so strong that all around could feel it on raw instinct.


    "This is the ''Tragic Mask''," Ben explained, shifting the mask to the side so his real eyes could see, "a mask containing the crying soul of a muse. It''s a tricky, prickly little thing to use, but useful enough for its size. It has several commands that will captivate all those who hear it."


    Ben turned away as Stanley''s eyes started to swim, and the boy noticed for the first time in minutes that he hadn''t taken a breath. He sucked in air as The Gentleman strode to the trio of villains who were trying to comprehend their mortality in the face of absolute fear.


    "what are you going to do to us?" pleaded Caustic, his screechy voice placid and monotone for once.


    "I''m going to serve you up as a lesson for the boy," Ben stated, cracking his knuckles. "I''m going to hurt you, break you boys down ''old school''-style. And, unfortunately for you, it''s a Sunday, which means the boy has school tomorrow. So let''s be quick about this and give me a few good screams, if you''d be so kind?"


    #####################################################################


    Driving through the park behind school, Ben smiled as the sun crested the forest road in front of him, turning his visor down so he wasn''t blinded. The little backroad was one of many unpaved secrets the town had which avoided some much unnecessary traffic. The road around the school were impossible at this hour from all the kids, parents, and busses trying to make it on time, but a little cut through the park and then a five minute walk made all the difference.


    When Ben got to the end of the road, he turned to Stanley and said, "Have a nice day at school!"


    Stanley sat in the passenger seat with a look of death about him. His face was sunken and still, like a gargoyle with a fear of heights. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot as if he hadn''t closed them in hours, unable to unsee. His hands were gripping the air as if he''d contracted arthritis and his skin was oily and greasy from a constant sweating that was wringing him dry. He breathed slowly through his mouth, the smell of blood still filling his nostrils even though he''d showered for an hour and scrubbed himself to the bone with steel wool to get the stench off.


    "Stanley," Ben said, snapping his fingers to wake the kid up.


    The boy jumped like he''d been bitten by an alligator, quickly stammering, "What-what-what-ah-what is it?"


    "It''s time for school," Ben stated, gesturing at the unlocked passenger door.


    "Right," Stanley said, quickly opening the door, only for the hand of death to grab his shoulder and hold him in place.


    "And if you''re still thinking about a non-standard career path, we can have another field trip, but you''ll have to organize your own ride home."


    Ben let go and Stanley slid out of the truck, missing the step-rail and falling onto his butt on the cold, wet mud below.


    "Shut the door, please," Ben called.


    Stanley reached up weakly and slowly inched the door closed. The truck rolled forward, did a U-turn, then drove past with the driver holding a finger over his lips in a ''quiet'' sign. As the sound of the monstrous engine faded, the boy started to feel once again as the fear began to slowly creep out of his body.


    Turning over quickly, he vomited an empty stomach of bile and mucus. Tears streamed down his face as the crust of a horrible night crumbled away, and all he could do was weep.

 Chapter 19 - Dealing with the Past

    Sue woke up to the sound of whirring machinery and a bright, blinding light in her eyes. Her entire body ached, as if she had finished running a marathon after three sleepless nights.


    "Get up," said a man''s even timbre.


    "G-Gentle-"


    "I guess you can''t keep a secret."


    Sue''s mind replayed the events of the past two weeks in a ten-second montage, and she suddenly sat up with blurry vision and screamed, "TODD!"


    "Your husband and son are fine," Ben offered.


    "Can I see them?" Sue pleaded.


    "In due time," Ben cooed, "but first, I need to tell you something."


    A light mist sprayed onto Sue''s face, directly into her eyes and mouth. She sputtered indignantly, but blinked and her blurred vision immediately went away.


    What she had assumed to be a hospital was actually a painfully white space craft''s medical bay with multi-jointed mechanical arms and shelves stacked high with fluids of unknown purpose. Sitting on a stool next to her bed was Ben, dressed in office casual with a full set of winter clothes on an armchair behind him.


    "I would like to apologize, first and foremost, for doubting you," Ben stated softly. "I did not expect you to withhold my personal information under threat of your family''s torture and demise. The fact that you did means quite a lot to me, and I''ll repay it by treating your son''s cancer."


    Sue felt a wide range of emotions that were pushing tears from her eyes as she asked, "My son has cancer?"


    "Mostly malignant tumors across his body," Ben informed. "To be honest, the system detected it and filtered it out automatically, but I saw them the first time I met your son and just didn''t say anything. He''s fine, now."


    "Thank god," Sue cried, relief mixing into the tornado of feelings she was enduring. "What about Timmy?"


    "You call him ''Timmy''? He''s fine, resting with your son, ready to go home."


    Sue relaxed into her bed, tears in her eyes as the pressure of the worst night in her miserable life broke her.


    "I suppose I should actually give you something," Ben scratched his head. "Idet, get the button; please and thank you."


    The glowing ball of light floated through a nearby wall as Sue worked through the complex tangle of wires her emotional state had devolved into. After a few minutes, she had calmed down enough to see a door open and the ball of light float through with a box the size of a post-it note.


    The box was dropped into Ben''s hands as he said, "This is the ''Fucked'' button. The next time things get totally fucked, spill some blood on this and I''ll be there to solve the problem."


    Sue stared at the trinket and asked, "But I thought you wanted to be left alone?"


    "I do, and in order to be left alone as efficiently as possible, I need to nip problems in the bud before they bloom into catastrophes. Because of your situation, a child I''m supervising is now aware of my past as a villain, and I''d like to avoid that in future."


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    "Why don''t you just kill us all?"


    Ben smiled softly and admitted, "I might be able to hide a body, but explaining a disappearance is never fun. I got lucky once thanks to some dude being a colossal piece of shit who would absolutely abandon his one and only daughter without prior notice, but a loving family like yourselves is harder to get away with."


    "I''ll make sure my family''s continued existence is less of a hassle than our death," Sue smiled happily.


    "Great, because I need you to leave," Ben stated, checking his watch for the time. "I''m on my lunch break and I have to skedaddle in fifteen."


    Ben got the whole Maxswroth family out of his infirmary and into their car, which he had obligingly towed to his house for their convenience. Before they left, he gave them a large order of Indian food he had gotten delivered an hour ago.


    "Here''s your cover story," he said to the parents. "Food poisoning. Make it believable."


    "Thank you so much," Tim said for the hundredth time. "Again, if there''s anything we could ever do, just ask."


    "Oh, I don''t think there ever will be," Ben laughed.


    "Wait!" Sue exclaimed, stopping her husband from taking the car out of park. "Tim, we should probably mention what we''ve been talking about."


    "What''s that?" Ben asked, annoyed that he was going to be late to the office.


    "So," Sue awkwardly choked out, "as you may know, we live in your district, but our son goes to the Peak School district."


    "Yes, and?"


    "The reasoning for that was because of their Hero team," Tim mentioned, "something we hoped Brandon might be interested in when his power developed. But when we heard that our district was going to have a Hero team, we started talking about getting him transferred. This was before we ever met you! Or knew that you were the coach! So.... "


    "Oh, I''m not planning to coach past this season," Ben stated. "It''s just a publicity stunt for when I run for mayor. ''Elect Coach Ben'' was going to be a tagline."


    "Oh, then we''ll forget about it," Sue said. "Thanks for the Indian."


    Ben returned to his car and drove back to the office, where not a single person had noticed his five minute absence. He got back onto an email chain fighting with the city parks department, when his phone buzzed with a text notification.


    It was from Katherine, and it just read, ''Don''t be mad.''


    Ben quickly looked at his watch and clicked it a few times counter-clockwise, expanding his dimensional vision to cover most of the town. He saw the school, found Katherine in the computer lab, and quickly read the email she was smiling herself silly over.


    It was from the state-sponsored Hero committee for the High School Hero teams, informing her that they had accepted her application to participate in the State Hero Tournament.


    Ben almost slammed a fist onto his desk, but stopped himself right before impact.


    While taking deep, meditative breaths, he texted back, ''Why would I be mad?''


    He sent the text before searching online for the State Hero Tournament to get details on what exactly he should expect. The website hosting the tournament information made the whole thing look more like a county fair, with carnival food and games around a large field where Heros would compete for glory. It boasted real, active-duty heroes as referees and a four-digit attendance expectation. The tournament would take an entire weekend in May, which was fast approaching, and would feature all of the competitions that normally occur with High School Hero teams. The tournament would be done bracket-style and the games would be randomly chosen by a large, spinning wheel turned by the referee.


    The winner of the tournament would win a trophy and a tour of the Hero Headquarters in Denver, Colorado by a legendary hero.


    Ben''s meditative breathing turned into hyperventilating as he read the fine print, which put a hundred asterisks next to the headquarters tour. Tour date was non-negotiable, transportation not provided, hero not actually a legend, no refunds, tour can be cancelled at Hero Squad discretion, and a hundred other listed inconveniences.


    Ben was furious, and he found himself gripping a plastic water bottle and squeezing it as if it were Katherine''s throat.


    The girl in question texted back, ''I signed us up for a tournament next month.''


    Ben returned fire immediately: ''Details.''


    Katherine just sent a link to the website that Ben was already on, then bombarded him with details that were on the website.


    ''How did you pay the application fee?''


    ''I have babysitting money. Can we please go? Please?''


    Ben sighed deeply, trying to put himself in the shoes of generic city councilman Ben Hersh with a useless power to see what the best course of action is. Ben would be out of his depth, but he also wouldn''t have the forethought to do too much else. Would he let himself be bullied by a child who went over his head?


    Ben sent a text, ''We''ll talk about it.''

 Chapter 20 - Trying His Best

    Sitting in the library like a mafia don, Ben was still sorting his thoughts on the tournament.


    On paper, it was an excellent chance for the kids to advance their future careers as heroes and rub shoulders with the elite, maybe even get a taste of the hero life. They would have a chance to network and even put on future resumes their victory in the Hero Games. For future mayor Benjamin Hersh, it would show his leadership capabilities and ability to work on extracurricular programs for the sake of the community. It would turn all the school faculty and most parents to his side, Stanley''s family not-withstanding, and that would cover a majority of the town. Especially if the kids won the tournament, which they had a fair chance to do.


    But the variables all had to fall perfectly in place to hide his identity as the Gentleman. There were powers which could detect lies, detect evil, and identify identities like ''mass-murderer''. Not just the heroes, but the parents and their offspring could have these powers. Plus, there would likely be security at an event that hosted actual heroes, and the security might have some way of ousting him. He would need to bust his hump for the next three weeks to come up with names and affiliations of all those in attendance, as well as likely classified information on the powers of everyone involved, then come up with countermeasures.


    However, Ben found himself to be extremely agitated for another reason. His favorite Indian restaurant was getting review-bombed for health and safety concerns, and he wondered if his overuse of the ''food-poisoning excuse'' had backfired on him.


    The kids approached from down the hall, but Katherine was giving them the business to convince Ben to do the tournament, ''or else''.


    ''You''re the one who should have gotten better grades in school, you little delinquent,'' Ben thought, grinding his teeth that this little girl was trying to take him for a ride.


    "Ben!" Katherine cheered in the most disingenuous way possible. "My favorite person of all time! Have you thought about-"


    "I have," Ben cut the faker off, "but I wanted to go around the room and get everyone''s thoughts on it. I can''t just launch us into a tournament without consulting everyone. And even if you guys agree, I need to speak with your parents and coordinate things."


    There was a moment of silence before Ben gestured at Michael to begin.


    "Oh, uh, I think it''s a good idea," Michael finished.


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    "I think-" Garret began, but Ben stopped him and returned to Michael.


    "Why do you think it''s a good idea?" he asked. "Just to get your feeling on it."


    Michael had to actually think about it for longer than any thought that had ever crossed his mind, "Uhm, it''s a good opportunity... to really practice being heroes..., and... winning... would allows us to... further our goals... in that area?"


    He glanced at Katherine, who gave him a nod and smile.


    That was within the five-foot radius Ben allowed for his dimensional sight, so he glanced at Katherine, who quickly straightened up and coughed, knowing she''d been caught.


    "Alright, let''s do this another way," Ben hissed as he massaged pressure points in his legs, "do any of you have any objections to Katherine forcing you all to do this tournament?"


    Stanley raised his arm nervously, receiving a death-glare from Katherine, who in turn received a disapproving glare from Ben.


    "Um, do you have any objections, sir?" Stanley squeaked.


    "Just that it''s going to be painful coordinating all of this in the three weeks of short notice we have to prepare," Ben directly blamed Katherine.


    "Please, Ben," the fiery redhead pleaded. "This is a huge opportunity for us!"


    "It''s a state-level competition in a very bland state," Ben argued, "how is this opportunity bigger than applying for an internship? Which you can all do, by the way!"


    "Because, if we win this tournament, we''ll have a ticket to regionals!" Katherine exclaimed, revealing the plot.


    Ben had assumed as much but wasn''t quite sure that Katherine had the cojones to shoot so high.


    In the Hero Games, in order to be ranked as the number one high school team in the country, you have to participate in the country-wide American Hero Games Tournament. To qualify for the AHGT, you have to compete and win in the regional tournaments, of which there are eight. To enter the regional tournament, you have to have a certain number of victories under the team''s belt, including at least one tournament trophy.


    And for the team that wins the American league, you automatically get a lifetime contract with the Hero Squad, as well as a shot at the Olympics.


    Ben didn''t want to go through all that noise, but he assumed that someone else would take care of the kids once they reached actual heights above the small town he was trying to mayor.


    But that would make things even worse. If this little town was responsible for raising the greatest heroes in the country, there would be tourism, people would move here to learn secrets, and the small town perfection would be ruined!


    "I guess there''s only one thing to do," Ben smiled. "If we''re going to the tournament, we''re going to have to increase the training."


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    "You''re actually going to do it?" Hannah asked through the chewed remains of her burger.


    "Of course," Ben stated, tossing the breaded remains of his chicken sandwich into his mouth.


    "But, won''t that make things complicated? Going to regionals sounds like walking into the lions'' den."


    Ben smiled in the way only a supervillain could.


    "That''s only if they make it to regionals."

 Chapter 21 - Early Sabotage

    "Everybody, listen up!" Ben announced as they took the field for another practical practice. "Since we''ve got a tournament coming up, we''ll have to get a bit serious. So, from today onwards, we''re going to shift gears. From now on, you''ll be doing team-building exercises to get your teamwork down. You can all do regular exercises at home. Let''s start with a simple run. Everyone together, one lap around the field. I''ll time it."


    The kids started their jog as Ben smiled to himself. His time in the military was tumultuous, but he always had thoughts of what it would be like to be a drill instructor.


    Now, he was going to find out.


    Garrett finished first, being the fastest with his skinny body and boosted snake-agility. Katherine finished in second, followed by Michael maintaining his invisibility, then Stanley. As usual, Gary lagged far behind everyone else, his body being larger and bulkier than everyone else''s. Once he had crossed the finish line, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, Ben stopped the clock.


    "You guys have a lap time of four minutes and fifteen seconds," he said, typing the time into a note on his phone. "I expect you all to run faster next time."


    "Coach Ben, I finished in under two minutes," Garrett hissed.


    "No," Ben corrected, "you''re time is four minutes and fifteen seconds. I told everyone to run a lap around the field, together. As a team. And you aren''t finished until you team finishes."


    This was something commonly seen in movies where a group is pushed together and judged as a unit. In popular media, it''s a story about brotherhood, family, and coming together to achieve a common goal.


    But in real life, all the members looked back at the wheezing Gary with a judgmental, pitying glance. Something Gary noticed, sneered, but didn''t comment on.


    "Do one more lap, next will be push-ups," Ben called, expertly hiding his own smile as he reveled in the effectiveness of his plan.


    In total, they did fourteen exercises in which each member horribly failed at least a single exercise. When they did, Ben made sure to put the blame squarely on everyone''s shoulders, holding them all accountable for a single failure.


    "This is so unfair!" Michael groaned after the fifteenth punishment exercise. "Shouldn''t the people who failed have to do the punishment exercise?"


    "Not as long as you''re a team," Ben stated, turning on his ''wise sage'' persona. "In a team sport, if one of you fail, all of you fail. And for a team of heroes? The consequences are much worse. That''s why, if one of you can''t accomplish something, the rest of you will need to step-up and make up the difference. If you''re a day or a dollar short, you''d best have someone who can pick up the tab. I chose the exercises specifically to show that all of you fall in some areas. That''s all I wanted to say. Let''s break, then go home."


    Ben opened the cooler he brought with him that had water and bananas in it. Everyone took some water and fruit, then trudged their tired butts over to the where their families were waiting in the nice, air-conditioned vehicles. Ben stayed behind to clean up the cones and gear he borrowed from the school until all the kids were gone. He looked up as a car screeched its way into the school parking lot, Hannah''s 2017 Hyundai Sonata.


    "I''m just going to return this stuff," Ben called, passing Hannah and entering the school. When he did, he paused as he noticed some girls bullying another in the bathroom. It was outside of his ''official'' sphere of sight, so he left it alone, although the harassment was a bit brutal for high schoolers.


    He returned the equipment as he watched a poor girl get her glasses broken and toilet water tossed into her face. He went out to the car and got in, looking over at Hannah expectantly.


    "Do me a real quick favor," he started.


    They drove around to the front, stopped, pulled back as if they forgot something, parked in front of a nearby entrance, then Hannah ran in to find the nearest toilet.


    Which, coincidentally, was occupied.


    Hannah burst in on the girls, catching them in the act of bullying. The previously abused girl quickly started shouting, breaking up the bullies and letting the bullied girl go free. The victim ran out the entrance that Ben was patiently parked at, and the village councilman got a good look at her.


    ''That will allow me to identify her if we need to press charges,'' he thought as Hannah got into a screaming match with the teenagers.


    Suddenly, one of the girl reached out and grabbed for Hannah, catching her jacket and pulling her in. Ben sat up, looking around, aware that he was within view of one of the school security cameras as Hannah was pulled into a brawl with the teenagers. A three-on-one was disadvantageous for Hannah, but she was fighting dirty. She managed to grab one of the brat''s nose rings and pull, ripping it out and making the fight two-on-one. Hannah got her claws out then, managing to grab one of the girl''s hair and pulled her down while the other one tried to scratch her face.


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    The cat fight turned nasty as the last girl ran, the blood from her torn piercing covering her face. She ran out the nearest exit, allowing Ben to see her on the way out.


    ''That looks like an excuse to intervene,'' Ben thought, acting confused as he got out of the car and entered the school. When he got to the blood trail, he pulled out his phone and started recording.


    "Hello, this is Village Councilman Benjamin Hersh," he said while recording the floor. "I just saw a student run out of the front entrance of the school with blood all over her face. I''m going inside to see what''s-"


    Right then, he reached the bathroom where the two girls had managed to get on top of Hannah and were punching her randomly.


    Ben briefly filmed the girl''s restroom sign as one of the girls was bucked off, elliciting a scream.


    With a scream on video, Ben cautiously opened the door and filmed the two girls clearly aggressing on Hannah, on top of her and punching like amateurs.


    "HEY!" Ben shouted, barging in and confronting the girls. "Get off of her!"


    Ben made sure to catch enough of the ensuing scuffle on camera to give a sense that he was bad at physical altercations, then he dropped his phone purposefully and fell. He managed to grab his phone as Hannah got a few good hits in on the girls, then he recorded them running away while cursing.


    "Hannah!" Ben huffed for the camera, making sure to get a good shot of Hannah''s scuffed face, "What was that about? Hold on."


    Ben stopped recording as Hannah looked at him in confusion, only to see him smiling in his characteristically sinister way.


    "Thanks for that," Ben said, patting Hannah on the back. "I''ll buy us a big dinner sometime."


    "You got that on video?" Hannah asked, still gritting her teeth in anger. "Are you going to send that to the principal?"


    "Yes," Ben stated, "but first, it''d be best to start a rumor.... Let''s get out of the girls bathroom, first."


    On the way out, Ben opened the group chat he used to communicate with the High School Heroes and sent them the video of the fight. He asked for identification of the girls, grinning as he did so. The kids would spread the video, the whole school would see it, and the bullies would receive their proper justice. On a more official note, he also sent the video to the school''s principal, with a message that he was trying to get the girls identified.


    "That should just about do it," Ben said as he slipped back into the Sonata. "Now, where would you like to go? My treat."


    =================================================================================


    After a delicious Brazilian barbecue, Ben received a text from Katherine that the girls were part of an infamous trio that had a host of victims. Their parents were the town''s only lawyers, and the one who ran away was the mayor''s little girl. In this town, that made them elites, and they flaunted it over others.


    Ben knew the Krofskies, Attorneys at Law, as they had helped him with legal matters in becoming village councilman. They weren''t exactly ''big-city lawyers'' who were hot on the trail of their next case, they were more about handling government documents and filing paperwork.


    The classic case of parents spoiling their children, or in the mayor''s case just bad parenting. The teachers also avoided getting involved because the brats were just around for forty minutes at a time. They weren''t worth it.


    When they got back to the sub-division, Ben got a message from the principal. It was a screenshot of a social media post of the video he had passed to the kids.


    "Oh, good," he said as he crossed the threshold into his fortress, "the kids did exactly what I wanted. Let''s see where this goes."


    The topic stuck in his mind until the next morning against his will. As much as he didn''t want to admit it, this was the most interesting thing that had happened in the town since he''d arrived. He was going to pay close attention, soak up all the gossip like a sponge.


    In the interest of this, he clicked his watch a few times to see what he could see around the village. The bully girls were in a screaming match with their parents as their parents got tons of messages from other parents about how their kids were behaving in school. He watched while getting ready for work, then on the drive over as the police station got calls about students being viciously preyed upon by harpies. But the police seemed more concerned about an actually serious call that came in, something about a missing child.


    Ben looked around the village for anyone out of the ordinary, then he noticed a girl sitting on the edge of the Hiveston Bridge, a railroad crossing bridge that had a foot path going across it as well. It sat above a rocky gorge with a small creek running through, at just about the right height to seriously hurt, or even kill if you fell at the wrong angle. The girl was the one Ben saw being bullied, the one the cops were looking for, and her feet were dangling freely over the gorge as she tried to convince herself to jump.


    "UGH!" Ben thrashed in his truck. "This is supposed to be feel-good, small-town triumph! Don''t taint it with your tragedy, bitch! Your bullies are going to get what''s coming to them, why are you going to jump now!?"


    Ben thought about what he could do, but there was no logical thing that he could do. There was no reason that the simple city councilman would have to be crossing a bridge at that time, nor was there any reason to warn someone of her predicament when nobody else could possibly know where she was going to go.


    ''She''ll probably just get down by herself," Ben said, right as the girl almost threw herself off the side. Ben inhaled sharply at the stunt, then sighed when she caught herself at the last minute. Then he groaned as he realized he would have to do something.


    "Hang in there, little girl," Ben grumbled with a record level of annoyance in his voice. "I''m going to contrive a way to save you. It''s just going to take near-superhuman levels of coincidence."


    With a grip that threatened to crush his steering wheel, Ben thundered towards his police station-adjacent office, already forming an excuse to listen in at just the right moment.

 Chapter 22 - Hero of the Ages

    Sitting on the edge of a rusting bridge, staring out over a deep ravine at the turn of the creek far below, Desmona Percowitz dangled her feet freely from her perch on the side railing. She looked down and pictured herself falling, the sensation of gravity turning over in her stomach before the final crunch ended it all. As she scooted closer to the edge, butterflies raved in her stomach, smashing her confidence and forcing the girl to tear up a little and scootch back. All the thoughts racing through her mind told her to just end it all, and everything would be right with the world.


    She moved closer, then backed away.


    She''d been there for hours, just trying to gather the courage to jump. The sun had already peaked and was starting to fall. She had left her phone at home so she couldn''t be tracked with it, but she had no other way to tell the time. She wondered what everyone else was up to, likely living their regular lives without so much as a thought about where she is. Her mother probably dismissed her disappearance as her crazed daughter pulling a stunt to get attention.


    She checked her surroundings to verify that nobody was coming. That nobody cared.


    Sure enough, Desmona was alone, and she sighed. Her very last hope was that someone, anyone, would appear to save her. To pull her back and give her life meaning, or at least numb the pain.


    But nobody showed. Yet another reason to jump.


    A ruffling from the forest had the suicidal girl look up as something barreling through the brush collapsed on the way to her. It got up and kept sprinting, breathing heavily as its desperate panting caught her by surprise. It certainly wasn''t a jogger, but it was definitely human and heading her way.


    Interested, Desmona slid down the railing onto the outside of the bridge, looking down the walking path as a person ran towards her.


    Stanley, a boy she had never talked to before and hardly ever saw in school, was running at her like a bat out of hell. He was wearing a winter jacket and sweating all the way through it as his physical state deteriorated from all the forced exertion. He saw Desmona on the wrong side of the railing and kept running, his ragged appearance upsetting the girl more than her tenuous future on this mortal coil. His glasses were falling off his face, his pants were covered in mud from several falls on the way over, and one of his shoes was gone, stuck in a muck pit that just wouldn''t let go.


    "Des- Des- Desmona-" Stanley panted rapidly, his body trying to shut down on him. He coughed violently, spitting something that tasted like blood but came out clear. "Don''t- Don''t do it."


    "Why not?" she demanded, leaning over the railing as Stanley collapsed on the bridge.


    "I don''t want you to," he huffed.


    "But why, though? What''s the point?"


    "The point?" Stanley coughed. "The point to what?"


    "To life! Why do I have to live if every day is just going to be worse than the last? Why am I here like a fat, ugly, stupid bitch who can''t do anything right!"


    Stanley was trying to formulate an answer while also catching his breath, but he didn''t know enough about Desmona''s situation to come up with anything.


    "Just, please come back," Stanley pleaded weakly, "I''ll be in a lot of trouble if you don''t."


    "That''s it?" she cried, tears filling her eyes as the crushing weight of her non-existence dragged her down. "You don''t want me to kill myself because YOU''LL be inconvenience by it! I just throw myself off right now, you fucking bastard!"


    "That- That''s not what I meant," Stanley pleaded, interrupted by a text. He pulled his phone out to read a text from Ben about how miserable his anti-suicide talk was.


    "And now you''re on your phone?!" Desmona screamed, grabbing the railing and sticking her whole body out. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"


    "I''m sorry, I don''t know what I''m doing," Stanley quickly apologized. "I just came here to stop you!"


    "Oh, you''re one of those freaks! Even if I jump, you''ll probably just lift me back into the air or cushion my fall, right?"


    Desmona let go of the railing, but Stanley jumped just in time to catch her arm. He was tired from the run, and even the adrenaline wasn''t enough to catch her completely. She slid into the bars, banging on them enough to knock the wind out of her as Stanley screamed from his arm being bent around the railing in a way it wasn''t supposed to bend.


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    "Just use your power!" Desmona screamed, tears flowing from her eyes.


    "I CAN''T," Stanley shouted back, also in tears as his arm bent on the verge of breaking. "IT HASN''T WORKED SINCE MY UNCLE!"


    Desmona felt the butterflies again as she realized Stanley was incapable of saving her once she fell. She tried to find a handhold to grab onto and managed to climb her way back up.


    Back on the rail, Stanley let go and rolled backwards, in extreme pain from a bone fractured as slowly as carbon could break. He was in tears, rolling around and whimpering as he was taken back to his middle school soccer game when he crossed legs with another kid and broke his shin. It felt like his arm had been caught between the gears of a heavy machine, with crushing force on all sides. His own heartbeat worked against him as every pulse flared the pain anew.


    Desmona climbed back over the railing now that Stanley was clearly the one suffering, and saw the huge swelling in his arm.


    "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, "Stanley, I- I''m sorry I thought-"


    "I KNOW!" Stanley barked, the pain mixed with embarrassment as he nursed his injury. "MY UNCLE FELL AND I TRIED TO SAVE HIM, BUT I JUST MADE IT WORSE! WHEN I TRY TO USE MY POWER, I SEE MY UNCLE FALLING AND I GET SICK, AND I CAN''T DO IT! I CAN''T SAVE ANYONE!"


    Desmona looked over the railing, then dismissed the thought as Stanley coiled up like an armadillo to seethe through the pain. She put hands on him to stabilize them both, then worked on isolating the injury. Remembering what Ben showed him in the first aid course, Stanley removed his jacket and had Desmona tie it in a sling. He gingerly slipped his arm through and stabilized it as well as he could.


    With first aid accomplished to the level two teenagers were capable, Desmona asked, "Are you okay to walk back?"


    Stanley nodded with a sniffle, "Are you coming with me?"


    "Yeah," she said awkwardly, "I didn''t want anyone to get hurt. I''m sorry for being human garbage."


    "We''re all eating a shit sandwich here, Desmona," Stanley cursed, repeating something his uncle used to say. "Some people have mustard or ketchup, white bread or rye. It''s never pretty, but that doesn''t mean your shit''s worse or mine''s better. It''s just different, and the ones who fuck it all up are the people that don''t brush their teeth afterwards."


    Despite the day''s events, the suicide girl snorted in laughter.


    "That reminds me," Stanley said as they stepped off the bridge and into the forest. "You might want to stay away from Katherine for a while."


    "What? Why?"


    "She''s on the warpath for Kacy and Michelle. She knows they stalk you, so keep an eye out."


    The duo hobbled to the entrance of the park where firefighters and EMTs grabbed them and did a check-up. Thanks to one of the EMTs having X-ray vision, he was able to diagnose Stanley''s fracture as incredibly minor, if painful. The arm was bandaged as Desmona''s mom arrived to hug and kiss her daughter all over before taking her home.


    Ben showed up a little while later to pick up Stanley, receiving some light instructions on healing the fracture before the EMTs drove away.


    "Didn''t you use your power on those homeless guys?" Ben asked curiously. "Were you lying to make Desmona freak out?"


    "My power still makes me nauseas," Stanley admitted, rubbing the bandage sourly. "I''ve been using it in small amounts, but after the stabbings, it''s really hard to control."


    "That sucks," Ben remarked as he pulled out of the parking lot.


    "Hey, can you heal my arm? The same way you healed that lady?"


    "Yes, but no."


    "What? Why?"


    "Because, a minor fracture like that is going to keep you out of games for roughly three weeks. That''s enough time to rack up a few losses and stop Katherine from entering us into the State tournament."


    "Why don''t you want us to go to states?"


    "Because, I am supposed to be a regular village council member who doesn''t have the coaching chops to take a first time high school team all the way to serious championships. The further you guys go, the harder it''s gonna be for me to lay low."


    "Then, why don''t you just not let us go to states?"


    "Because this town has two past-times: playing sports and watching sports. If they even got a whiff of me not being a good coach, I could kiss my mayoral candidacy goodbye."


    "Then, why didn''t you just save Desmona? Couldn''t you do it in an instant?"


    "Stanley, I''m not a hero. I don''t save people."


    "Then why did you make me do it?"


    Ben was silent for a moment before confessing, "Because, Stanley, I''m not a villain anymore, either. I don''t have to turn a blind eye to evil just because it doesn''t suit my agenda, and I don''t have to let someone die just because they''ve stopped being useful to me. If I want this town to be my own little slice of heaven, I''m going to have to put some work into making it so. That means, if someone''s in trouble, I''ll help. But only so far. That girl was talked down today, but she could jump again tomorrow, and I''d let it be. Not everyone''s worth saving."


    Ben pulled up to Stanley''s house and let him out, but frowned when the boy trudged his way up to the front door and opened it up. The councilman could tell something was bothering the boy because his tear ducts kept filling up, but the exact reason illuded him.


    "Stanley, wait up!" Ben called, getting out of the truck and walking around front. He didn''t get too close so that the harpy mother couldn''t screech at him, but close enough that most of the house could hear what he had to say.


    "I didn''t mean to diminish what you did. That girl was going to jump, and now she''s not because of what you did. Maybe it didn''t go down the way you wanted, but a human being is going to see another day because of you. And you didn''t need your power to save her, you just had to catch her when she fell. You saved someone, so...


    "...how does it feel to be a hero?"


    Despite himself, Stanley cracked a smile and tried to hide it by wiping his face. The rest of the family listening perked up at the mention of heroism.


    "It''s alright," he grinned childishly.

 Chapter 23 - A Return To Form

    Stanley returned like the conquering hero of a legendary foe. Everyone welcomed him back with cheers and signed his cast, except Desmona. The principal assured everyone that Desmona''s mother called about taking her daughter on a world tour to get her back on her feet. She would be back by the end of the semester with a fresh set of experiences. When it was time for Hero practice, Stanley just watched as the others took the field and ran drills that Ben had found online. Katherine clapped him on the back when practice was over and congratulated him on being a real hero.


    Ben was glad that all of this attention was dragging the team''s growth down. As much as they didn''t want to admit it, the hero wannabes were all overworking themselves so they would get a chance to be the next person in the right place. They were kids and had a good rebound period, but Ben could tell that they weren''t getting adequate rest. If he could pile it on, they would be too tired to win the games, and therefore the tournament.


    However, it wasn''t even a full day before Katherine was caught roughing up Desmona''s tormentors. She was suspended for three days and required to write a long apology, but her apology was half-hearted and mean, so she got another five days of suspension.


    Life was glorious for Ben, who was having a field day making Garret, Michael, and Gary doing extra workouts to make up for Katherine''s misuse of power. They were all doing jumping jacks while he read a boring speech from online about responsibility.


    The entire week of Katherine''s second suspension, Ben took a sadistic glee in the way the teens seemed too apathetic to continue the harsh training. Katherine was their big motivator, herself motivated by a free ride to college, and her absence was driving down the work ethic these kids had shown until now.


    Finally, it was the weekend game before the tournament and everyone was almost broken. The lack of a proper rest time had the trio who weren''t broken or punished exhausted mentally and physically. Even these young kids who had bodies like rubber couldn''t bounce back from the extended exertion.


    They drove an hour to an inner city football field situated between several tall buildings. The stands were rather steep, but people still sat dangerously close to the adjacent buildings edge to catch a glimpse of the game. Ben was watching the area carefully, counting twenty-six handguns total but only two still had their serial number. None of them had any identifying tattooes or color-code, so they weren''t likely gang members or violent extremists, they were just careful.


    Ben didn''t judge. Most of his arsenal didn''t have serialization.


    The other team came out with a roaring cheer from all around, but Ben didn''t see much threat with them. There was a fat girl who could burn her fat consciously for physical strength increase, but her efficiency was too low for a full game. A pair of indian brothers of different ages who both had electrical powers, but it required physical contact so it wasn''t dangerous in most tag-type games. A short black guy who was the senior of the group that could mold his body hair into different shapes, but it only gave him a slightly longer reach and the hair itself was just hair, so Katherine''s fire could take care of him. The final was a lanky white kid who resembled Slenderman and whose power was to stretch his bones, even though the rest of his body wouldn''t naturally stretch with it.


    If Ben was their coach, he would run them ragged testing the applications of their powers, but the coach on their side was a portly black gentleman who brought a bag of fast food and was eating it with such lust that it was almost obscene.


    "Katherine," Ben called once they were situated on the sideline benches, "I''m going to make you team lead for this one. It''s your play how you want to take this."


    "What?" the redhead flustered, dropping her helmet in shock. "But-but-but I-I-I''ve never run plays! I don''t know-"


    "You read the field guide I wrote, right?" Ben challenged. "Just apply what you read and you''ll do fine. I need to use the restroom."


    That field guide may have been a mistake to give to children, but if they learned to apply it, they wouldn''t need Ben anymore. He turned away from his team and walked under the bleachers where some porta-potties were kept for emergencies. Ben opened one, walked inside, gagged from the caustic fumes, then took out the pack of cards he carried around and emptied them into his hand.


    From the other side of the door, a hispanic man approached wearing baggy trousers with a Glock 43 inexpertly holstered in the wasteband. He knocked on the door, resting on hand on his pistol grip and checking his surroundings. His driver''s license hidden in his sock said his name was Victor Chavez, and he only carried twenty dollars in his other sock.


    "Here," Ben said, cracking the door open and offering the deck of cards.


    Victor took them in confusion, turning them over to see they were just a regular deck of cards.


    "Three of diamonds," Ben announced from inside the chemical-laced lavitory.


    He turned the deck over to see that the three of diamonds was the first card showing.


    "Nine of clubs, king of spades, queen of spades, diamond, spade, diamond," Ben listed off from inside of the blue-plastic torture chamber.


    "What the hell is this?" Victor laughed, rolling through the cards as Ben pulled his phone out and emailed himself the address on Victor''s driver''s license.


    "A demonstration of my superpower," Ben stated. "Go ahead and shuffle them. You must play cards since you''ve got a pair of aces on your arm."


    The gangster glanced down at the tattoo on his arm, then grabbed the pistol and held it low while pointing it randomly at the porta-potty door, throwing the cards aside.


    "What the hell is this?!" Victor shouted, realizing too late he''s in public and he shouldn''t yell. "Are you a narc?!"


    "My superpower is to see all sides of an object," Ben cautiously explained, careful not to be where the gun was pointing. "I can read those cards as if they were right in front of me, and I can see all the tats on your body, as well as the scraped off serial number on your 43. I like to demonstrate my power to make sure everyone knows who they''re dealing with."


    "How do I know you''re not a narc?" Victor challenged.


    Ben cracked the door open and stuck his phone out, "Because I don''t like cops."


    "Okay. What do you want?"


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    "... What do you want? You approached me, right?"


    "Yeah, j-just lose the game!"


    "What? The hero game? That''s going on now? That I''m not a part of? That game?"


    "Quit," Victor threatened, shaking the gun to illustrate what was at stake.


    "Y''know, I don''t think your boss would appreciate that," Ben stated as he realized he was getting used to the smell of the toilet.


    "What the hell would you know?!"


    "I can see five people in the building west of us cheering for the home team because of how much money they have riding on this game. I thought you were related to one of the kids for a second, but you''re just trying to fix your boss''s gamble. Does he know you''re here?"


    "Yeah, he told me to do this!"


    "Victor, Victor..., I can see your heartbeat and twitching muscles. I know when you''re lying. Why are you even doing this?"


    "I''m moving up in the world," he gloated, "and the boss is just another stepping stone. I''ve got plans, and I''m going to be running this city in a year."


    "Is that what you told your daughter? The one tattooed on your back?"


    Victor straightened up at the mention of his daughter, pressing the gun into the porta-potty door hard enough to bend the plastic.


    "Is she okay?" Ben asked softly.


    "She''s fine," Victor growled.


    "I told you not to lie to me," Ben said. "What is it? Cancer? Some disease? No? Is it a situation? I can keep guessing all day until I see your reaction."


    "She... she''s pregnant," Victor exhaled like a smoker. "I... killed the guy who did it. Mi hermanos hid the body, but it cost me and now... I just need the money."


    "Was it consensual?" Ben asked, but Victor''s reaction could have been shame from killing an innocent or rage at the killing the guy who raped his daughter.


    "I''m gonna be an abuelo," Victor cried, "but I need more money! I''ll be the boss! I''ll work my way up!"


    A whistle was blown for the game to start, and Victor''s nerves almost squeezed the trigger. Ben leaned further away from the gun''s trajectory as he considered how to deal with this petty hustler.


    "I''m coming out," Ben announced, "I''m unarmed."


    Ben pushed the door open and Victor stepped back, keeping the gun trained on the city councilman who was keeping his hands in view with his phone.


    "Do you want to break into the big time?" Ben asked cautiously.


    "Y-yeah," Victor said nervously as the guy he had at gunpoint grinned slowly and creepily.


    "Great, then I''ve got an idea," Ben offered, shaking his phone. "Do you know the swamp east of the city?"


    "Yyyyyyeah?"


    "Would you happen to know about Con Creete, Sling, or Caustic?"


    "Oh, they''re the new super baddies," Victor hissed. "Think they can do anything just ''cause they''ve got superpowers."


    "They have a hidden cache of weapons and gold in a run down building in the swamps," Ben said, looking down at his phone and pulling up an address. "I''ll send you directions. You can go pick it up and keep it, or present it to your boss."


    "What? What is this? How do you know?"


    "I saw their murdered bodies for myself, and found the location on their bodies. You''ll have a couple of advanced weapons you could pawn off, or become the new villain of the week and see where that takes you. Either way, this should get you closer to being the boss."


    "Ahuh. And those villain dudes are just gonna be okay with this?"


    "They''re not in any position to complain."


    "How do you know?"


    "It''s like I told you ," Ben said, then he whipped his arm out and grabbed the glock from his assailant. He pulled the slide back and popped the chambered round as Victor''s grip broke. While the bullet was in the air, Ben pressed the magazine release and flicked it aside, getting it out of the way. Victor tracked the mag as it flew away, and when he looked back, he saw Ben catch and balance the chambered round on top of the gun. He flipped the gun a few times, balancing the bullet on its edge, then popped it back into the air and caught it in the chamber where it started.


    Ben pulled back the slide, cocking the hammer, then pointed the gun at Victor so that he could look down the barrel.


    "I don''t like the cops," Ben reiterated, "and I saw the murdered bodies with my own eyes."


    The city councilman flipped the gun around so the handle was towards Victor and offered the firearm. Victor took it, looking down at it in confusion as Ben walked off. He kicked the magazine with his heel so that it slid across the uneven pavement, skidding to a halt right in front of its original owner.


    "A-a-an-and the cash?" Victor called.


    "I sent it to you a minute ago," Ben called with a wave of his hand, returning to the coaches bench as Victor checked his phone. It was on ''Do Not Disturb'' so it wouldn''t go off while he was mid-stick-up, and sure enough, there was a text message from an unknown number with an address and directions.


    Victor''s mind had been so twisted in the last five minutes, he couldn''t formulate a thought more complex than following the directions he was given.


    The game went well, and Ben would have given more props to the other team, but it was unfortunate that their opponents were the rock to their scissors. Every single round, except for Stanley''s, was like watching a master martial artist seriously fight an amateur. Michael''s invisibility countered the strong chick, Gary''s constructs countered the electric brothers, Garrett coiled around Slenderman''s long appendages, and Katherine burned the hair of the senior the first chance she got.


    Ben watched out for the gang leader in case he wanted to take revenge, but the guy was drinking heavily over the hundred dollars or so he lost.


    The drive home was uneventful, taking almost a full hour from driving away in the school van to driving away in their own cars. When Ben finally arrived at home, he received a text from Victor. It was a picture of him and his hermanos smiling in front of a large trunk with oddly shaped hoses and cannisters of dubious liquids.


    Ben called the number and the person immediately answered, high on their drunken revelry, "AAAAAAAAY! What''s up, brother?"


    "I take it you found the stash?" Ben asked politely.


    "Yeah, it''s got so much stolen jewels it filled my bro''s Camaro!" Victor cheered.


    "So you''re happy?"


    "Mas, brother!"


    "Great," Ben cheered, then he dropped his voice into a husky whisper. "That was a gift of peace. Never bother me again."


    He hung up, set his phone on the kitchen counter, then called Idet out.


    "Did you need something?" the dimensional terrestrial synthetically asked in a sleepy tone.


    "Destroy the phone that has this number," Ben pointed at the contact.


    Idet floated down to the phone, than transposed herself inside of the device like a ghostly possession. Her glow could be seen through the cracks in the device as Ben walked around to the fridge and pulled up a menu for dinner.


    "I''ve been eating fast food so often, some of this is spoiled," he mused to the alerts next to food items. "Let''s gooo wiiiiiiiiiith, beef stroganoff."


    Idet emerged from the phone dimmer than she went in, but quickly brightened again.


    "It is done," she declared.


    "Thank you, Idet."


    The ball floated over to the fridge and said, "Ugh."


    "What ''ugh''?" Ben called out, offended that a glowing ball of light would judge his culinary choice.


    "Hannah said that many human foods can be categorized as ''Mac and Cheese of a kind'', and I would like to disagree, but abstraction of the specific proves her correct."


    "How the hell is Beef Stroganoff anything like Mac and Cheese?!"


    "It''s a noodle base with viscous sauce and additives, the beef being the additive. That fact that you change the shape of the noodle and switch the mustard base with cheese is the difference, but the noodle has the same consistency as Mac and the sauce has the same consistency of Cheese."


    Ben could picture himself escalating this to a full debate he could have with Idet, and even a future where he was convinced of her premise, but he was too tired from the game taking all day.


    "I had a good day," he chastised, "don''t ruin it."


    "What happened?"


    "I got some idiots to clean up some evidence for me," Ben said, turning up the heat on the pot.

 Chapter 24 - The Final Practice

    This was it. It''s game time.


    The Friday before the tournament, Ben gave his most unreasonable practice yet.


    Under the guise of being ready for the tournament, he combined the theoretical practice with physical practice, demanding they exercise while he read to them and quizzed them on the rules of Hero Games. Group punishment for wrong answers, and there was always a wrong answer. He gave Stanley breaks to not put excessive strain on his ''healing arm'', which injected some spicy hatred in the hearts of the children. When Katherine couldn''t keep up because she had been suspended for three weeks and missed practice, her own weakness almost brought her to tears while the boys enjoyed schadenfreude at the evidence of their efforts.


    After practice was over, Ben dropped a nugget of absolute wisdom on the children.


    "If you guys want to be in the best shape of your life," he told the cast, "then you''ll want to take an ice bath."


    "What?"


    "Ask your parents for help, but fill a tub half-way with ice, then take a dip in it for thirty minutes."


    "That''s insane!" Michael complained, "We''re not eskimos!"


    "It''s for healing," Ben offered. "Stanley, you can ask your father. He was in sports medicine. The process that your body uses to generate heat carries a lot of the same nutrients it uses to repair itself. Top level athletes do it, and real heroes do it, too!"


    The kids looked doubtful at Ben, exactly as he wanted. He had just spent the last hour torturing them, and now he was suggesting further torture. In reality, an ice bath triggers something akin to a survival program throughout the nervous system that hijacks all spare nutrients and powerbombs them into bodily maintenance.


    In short terms, stress-induced healing.


    None of them would actually do it. Dunking yourself into freezing water took dedication that only a fat paycheck and sponsorship deals could pull off. Stanley might do it if he brings it up with his dad, the pediatric sports medicine specialist, but none of the other kids had the kind of parents to go out at seven at night to pick up all the ice.


    Ben would almost felt like donning his old tuxedo, top hat, and theatre masks for how evil he was being. He waved the kids goodbye and double-checked that the van was ready for game day.


    The tournament would be held on fairgrounds three hours away from Jefferson High School. Ben had booked a hotel with a Groupon for all the other parents for a brief vacation start with everyone arriving at the hotel two hours before the first game. They would check in, drop their bags off, then head out to the fairgrounds. The fair was just twenty minutes away from the hotel and would be the stage for a legendary mettling by Ben, who had packed a bag for some of the softest malevolence in the world.


    The van was booby-trapped, not with high explosives or caustic acid, but bad brakes. They would screech and squeal the whole time, and even warp the rotors if he kept pressure on them for long enough, which he planned to. The A/C was also weak, something unnoticeable on short trips with small groups, but in the forecasted 92 degree sunlight, it would become a problem. One of the tires had a pin-needle hole in it which might hold the entire weekend, but could also flatten the tire if it grew any larger.


    Ben went home with a giddy skip in his step, and ordered some more TFC for Idet and Tiki Misala for himself. He was pigging out for two reasons, one of them being how miserable he was planning to be for the whole weekend he was going to have to chow down on some good food to keep himself sane. The other was to build up some gastro-intestinal distress with a big plate of beans on toast next to a glass of raw milk for breakfast, and the smell of some spicy Indian food hotboxing the van would drive everyone insane.


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    As Ben went to pick up his delicious treats, he received a notification on his phone that almost made him swerve off the road. He could see it without his eyes, but he whipped the phone out anyway and stared at it just to make sure he wasn''t being duped. He enlarged the notification and scanned the image he was sent like a police investigator with a bad gut feeling.


    Displayed on the phone was Katherine in a bikini standing in front of a jacuzzi with Garrett, Gary, Michael, and Stanley in swim trunks. Standing just behind the jacuzzi was Jeff Chevis with his arms around Patricia and Brandon Grainger, bags of ice in their hands as the small jacuzzi was filled with water from a hose.


    "FUCK YOU FUCKING CHEEKY PARENTS," Ben screamed, "CARING ABOUT YOUR KIDS WELL-BEING LIKE LOSERS! YOU FUCKING SUCK! YOU-"


    Ben ranted the whole way to the pickup and even swore unholy words at his phone while paying for his food. The cashier just smiled nervously at him as he paced the counter and disturbed the other customers. He took deep breaths in and out the whole way home, deep enough to make him light-headed as another picture popped up on his phone of the kids fully submerged and shivering. Jeff was clearly the mediator here, making sure nobody would freeze too much.


    As he pulled into his garage with the steaming food in his passenger seat, Ben considered taking Jeff out. He was likely going to be the biggest threat to his teams loss in the tournament. It wouldn''t be too difficult, but that would release the floodgates of his wife,


    Ben never imagined in all his years of cunning ploys and devious schemes that he would have to match wits with a pediatric sports medicine nurse practitioner.


    He walked into the house to see Hannah was inside, drinking tea with Idet as Ben carried the food in.


    "I''m not in the mood," he said before anyone else could speak, then broke into Idet''s fried chicken bucket and ate the first piece. He slid the phone to them with the pictures and they started gossiping on how cut Stanley was.


    "What''s the problem?" Hannah asked as Ben dug into the tiki misala burning his nose.


    "The children are recuperating with ice," Idet said. "This will undo the fibrous muscle damage Ben has been instilling in them for the past three weeks."


    "AND by making it a PARTY," Ben shouted while tearing into the food packaging, "it will REDUCE STRESS as well. FUCK!"


    Ben grunted as the burning sensation of Indian spices spread across his face from speed-eating.


    "THAT''S IT!" he suddenly shouted, slamming the island countertop and swiveling off his chair. "Touch my chicken and I''ll liquify your fingernails."


    Ben disappeared into the garage and the explosive sound of a 20 gallon air compressor filled the house. Occasional light flashed from the garage door as something was welded, then the high pitch of compressed air passing through an impact wrench echoed across the family room.


    Ben re-entered the room with slightly scuffed cuffs, "Well, that was pointless."


    "What did you do?" Hannah asked, biting through the crispy, oily skin of a chicken leg.


    "I was making a guillotine," Ben said.


    Hannah looked confused and Idet shimmered in confusion.


    "Just something I''ve been building for fun," Ben explained while grabbing his delicious chicken curry. "I thought it would relax me a bit more, but I want to wait until it''s the right time to finish it."


    "What are you waiting for?"


    "It''s part of my mayoral race. I was going to cut pumpkins and watermelons in half and host a function. It was also going to be a Halloween decoration."


    "I don''t think that''s going to go over well. It''s super weird to bring something like that to a political rally."


    "Hm. Right. Optics would be bad if Wilkinson doesn''t do something disastrous. Or if I don''t undermine his rule accordingly. No, that would backfire later."


    "You''re probably all set up if you just match everything Wilkinson does for his campaign, plus one."


    "Plus one?"


    "You know, if he''s got seven banners you need eight. If he''s got a hundred signs, you need a hundred and one."


    Ben calmed down as he went over some plans with Hannah for name recognition ideas, until she put a hand up and asked a very pertinent question.


    "What happens if the kids do really well in the tournaments? Wouldn''t it be bad for votes to give up coaching?"


    Ben''s mind suddenly disconnected from his consciousness as he envisioned a future where he was stuck forever as a hero team coach for high schoolers.


    "I''d just get more use out of the guillotine if that happens."

 Chapter 25 - Trip Advisor

    Ben was absolutely exhausted as he basted in the sun in the van driver''s seat in unplanned traffic.


    The drive was an absolute disaster.


    He ripped ass twenty minutes into the drive, but one of the parents offered to treat everyone to a breakfast, so they went to a First Watch with the windows cracked and the smell was gone. When they came out, the tire was flat, but all the parents were there to replace it in five minutes and make it an educational lesson on emergency car maintenance. They were back on the highway with a donut that steered the car slightly to the left, but that didn''t bother anyone except the driver Ben. Then Katherine ripped a fart so profound, it could be heard over the pounding baseline of "Turn Down For What". The resulting smell was worse than what Ben was prepared for, causing his eyes to water as everyone screamed for release from the stank. They drove the rest of the way with the windows down, but the odor didn''t want to escape.


    Katherine was sitting in the back of the van, just outside of Ben''s ''five foot'' range, but he could see that tiny particulates had dug into her pants and the seat she was sitting on. This stench was going to linger. What disturbed him even more was the heart racing reaction of the boys pretending not to notice the constant whiff of flatulence, and how they blushed.


    For the half hour left in the van, Ben was ranting internally about what online culture has done to today''s youth.


    The trouble didn''t end when they arrived at the hotel. They were supposed to arrive at the Hilton around 10:00 and take a break before the first game at 12:00, but they arrived just a little late at 10:10. Because of the state fair, there was a line out the door, so there was a team meeting with everyone that the parents would sign in and the kids would go with Ben to the fair and prepare for the first game. Ben hated that he wouldn''t be able to collapse onto a bed before he would have to suffer the rest of the day.


    He could already feel his mental state eroding away.


    The traffic into the fair was disastrous, the hosts clearly underestimated the amount of parking they needed for the function, because Ben was stuck at the first hundred yards for a full hour as some of the carny rides were moved to make more room for parking. When it was coming time that they needed to show up at the registration desk, Ben told Katherine to go find the desk, sign them in, and text him the results.


    The kids left and Ben was allowed some alone time, so he took a look around. He lowered the watch to the point that no one saw, then clicked it a few points counterclockwise. His vision expanded massively, covering the entire fairgrounds and into the corn fields around them. The sudden lurch in information gave him a quick headache, but he scanned all the attendees to see if anyone was planning any funny business.


    There were a quite a few drugs stuffed into pockets, open carried guns as well as hidden ones, but no particle disintegrators or plans for mass destruction. There were quite a few a people with Humanity First triangles, but most of them were unarmed and there were no stashed weapons anywhere.


    As Ben scanned the area, he looked into the announcer''s booth where a ton of papers were scattered about. He glanced at them with the intention to continue elsewhere, but something caught his eye, a surprise for the audience that would be revealed at the end of the games.


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    Ben smiled-- but kept it to himself as he suffered the indignity of letting some high school dropout in a yellow construction vest tell him where to park.


    It was still ten minutes to the official start of the game when Ben stepped out of the car and locked it, only for the clouds above to billow unexpectedly as the sound of a rapidly beating drum reverberated in the air. Ben physically looked up and watched as a helicopter bearing the red cross of the Super Squad descended from above. When it came inside of his expanded vision, the two-faced councilman snarled as he recognized the aircraft''s occupants.


    Ben had to tap himself on the head to recover from the stress which built up since that morning. A variable had just appeared that he was not expecting, a big hitter with the kind of power that he would have to actively avoid in order to save his life as a small-town village councilman.


    Quieting the sense of dread that was rapidly pulling his stomach apart, Ben set a hand on his watch, then stopped.


    Thanks to the efficiency of his power, it was very hard to detect if he kept within a small house''s distance. Even other supernatural senses that could reveal powers had a hard time pinning down any supernatural power in his body thanks to how ''thin'' his power was. But pressed inside of a security van was a larger power detector stored for any of a number of reasons. If that thing was turned on, it would be able to identify his power level was not at the level he said it was, which wasn''t inherently a problem so long as nobody checked the records and tied that particular reading to him. He could keep his eye over the entire area to make sure nobody was up to anything nefarious, so long as the machine didn''t catch him.


    But that would still put him at extra risk, an unnecessary risk. Thanks to the big shot descending from the clouds, this place just became a high-risk/high-reward target. No small-time villain was going to try anything, but someone with some actual chops might take a shot. And if that power detector was booted up while Ben wasn''t paying attention, and someone was nitpicky enough to course through the data, his life could become a lot more troublesome.


    As Ben considered the ramifications, something tugged at the edge of his sight.


    Something... underground. The mixed layer between dirt and bedrock was... moving, ever so slightly. Vibrating almost.


    Ben backpedaled to the van as if he forgot something, got in the driver''s seat, then reclined the seat until strangers couldn''t glance inside to see him. He clicked his watch one more point counterclockwise and felt a rush as everything suddenly started to overwhelm him. A mile in all directions came into view, down to the insects preying on the corn and the purity of every cob. The clouds overhead showed their individual wisps of potential rain as the warm air kept them supported. And a thousand yards underground, a large contraption with a thousand drills and rotary bits was chewing through the earth directly underneath the stadium stands.


    "Huh," Ben stated, "didn''t expect that."


    The mining equipment was being driven by three hillbilly yokels who had their hands full making the inexpertly contrived contraption function. Several valves and lines had to be manually controlled, despite automatic valves already incorporated into the machine, which could only be a lack of parts or brains. The deep south folks had mole-parts, making them almost blind and sensitive to earth movements, and the enormous clamor the machine unleashed was actively deafening their sensitive ears.


    It was the most ineptly handled villain attack Ben had ever seen. He almost wanted to resurrect Con Crete just to have someone with which to laugh at these guys.


    Ben saw this planned attack as nothing but a positive. The fair would be cancelled, including his team''s tournament, and Kate couldn''t run any state tournaments past him. He could be hailed as the hero coach who got his team to safety during a surprise villain pop-up. A new campaign slogan would be: "Never falls to a villain!"


    With a special tune in his heart, Ben clicked his watch one point clockwise and continued back to the stands where his team had signed up and were waiting for their coach.

 Chapter 26 - Adeptly Inept

    Ben sat on the side of the field, barely engaged in the game his team was playing. They were sparring with a group of animal-type super humans, two of whom were animals ingrained to fear fire which Katherine was abusing, but Ben was waiting for the villains to make their play. It had been almost a full hour since he found them, and their speed meant they should have already popped out of the ground. He''d retracted his sight just so he wasn''t too prepared for their arrival, but he was starting to question whether they were planning to hit the fair during the day. They were mole people, so nighttime would definitely benefit them.


    As a zebra centaur crushed Gary''s fortifications, Ben considered activating his watch. He was very careful not to put too much focus on his wrist gadget, aware that he was being videotaped for the fair''s promotional video. If he could pretend to check it, away from the camera on top of the stands, maybe he could see what was taking these mole degenerates so long to invade.


    Ben glanced up at the stands for the hundredth time, looking just below the skyline where a booth had been set up near the top bleachers containing the commentators and the professional hero. He was keeping a close eye on everything, but the hero behind the stained glass was bothering him more and more. She was one of the heavy hitters, even though she couldn''t hit very hard, but her presence bothered Ben to the point of bringing upon his nervous habit of face-touching. His fingers had dug into his eyes so many times, they were starting to get irritated.


    Was she here because of the diggers underground? Was it just a celebrity stunt? Was the Hero Association expecting something? Was she just on watch for any villains?


    Was she here for him?


    All of these factors and unknowns swirled as thoughts in the whirlpool of his mind, until he noticed the grass on the field jiggling slightly.


    ''They''re here,'' he thought, fighting off a smile as he prepared the act he''d prepared.


    Ben looked left and right, he scanned the crowd on the opposite bleachers, then stood up and turned on the bleachers behind him. He kicked the ground a few times, then asked Stanley who was sitting out, "Do you feel that?"


    "Feel what?" Stanley replied.


    "The ground is shaking," Ben clarified.


    Stanley set his feet firmly on the ground and allowed his feet to feel for Ben''s ground shaking.


    "Something''s shaking the ground," Stanley confirmed, and Ben took that as reason enough to shout at the referee.


    "TIMEOUT!" he shouted, crossing his arms in an ''X'' over his head in the universal sign to stop. "TIMEOUT! TIMEOUT!"


    The ref blew a whistle and jogged his jelly rolls over to Ben''s bench to see what was wrong.


    "The ground''s shaking," Ben stated, nudging the dirt with his shoe tip, "I think someone with a ground power might be interfering."


    The ref grimaced at the situation, looking at the crowd to see if anyone was obvious about using their ability. Then he doubted Ben''s words, because he couldn''t quite feel the subtle vibrations with his meaty feet. He kept an eye on the game while leaning into his radio and calling in Ben''s report of the ground shaking. The line-referees and even the announcers took a moment to feel the ground and confirm the report.


    One of the line refs, who had cockroach antlers, called back almost immediately, "I feel something. The ground is definitely shaking."


    The main ref sighed, then blew his whistle exceptionally hard. He kept it going until the game and most of the stands had paused to look at him. He grabbed the radio, turned it to a specific station, then announced of the PA system, "Could the superhuman with earth powers please stop interfering with the game."


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    As the ref''s words reverberated through the hastily constructed stadium, the ground movement became more noticeable, and even began to shake the stands.


    "Whoever is doing this," the ref said through the PA, "if you don''t stop, charges will be pressed and you will be escorted from the stadium."


    Ben waved at his team on the field, "Get over here! Get! Over! Here!"


    "What is it?" Garrett asked, "What''s going on?"


    "I don''t know," Ben lied, "but I have a bad feeling about this."


    The Jefferson High Hero team quickly walked over to the sideline and stepped off the field, with the opposing coach copying Ben''s idea as the tremble became a shake. The bleachers started to visibly wobble back and forth, stressing the joints as their foundations moved against their will. People started to get the idea that something was wrong, a few of them having the foresight to get off the wiggling stadium stands.


    It wasn''t until the ground really started heaving things around, tipping over trash cans and unsecured drinks, that a siren rang out for a potential villain attack. It was a long not that rose and fell in volume, similar to an air raid siren. The crowds panicked, running off the bleachers as the announcers tried to convince the crowds to remain calm and leave in an orderly fashion.


    The quaking ground suddenly bulged in the middle of the playing field, so Ben grabbed his team and dragged them away, intending for everyone to run away. Gary, Garrett, Katherine, Stanley, and Michael were too shocked to deny the authority of their coach, so they started to run away as the clamoring of a god-awful machine breached the soil and sucked nearby air into a deep, dark hole. The whole team was already on the other side of the bleachers as the infernal contraption collapsed onto one of the stands, eliciting screams from the fleeing citizenry.


    Ben didn''t care about the whole situation, his only duty was to get his team to safety.


    What did concern him was the hero waiting in the announcer''s box and how woefully unprepared the security was for the sudden attack. There was one, singular professional hero, and she wasn''t even a direct attack hero. Sure, she could handle her own, but her power was healing.


    Ben made sure his team all linked hands, then he pulled them into a crowd around the parking lot as he joined the mass of fleeing bystanders. He was focused on the van and how to get there while leading a line of kids, but he noticed Katherine looking back at the earth-moving mechanical monstrosity as it partially chewed through the bleachers on their team''s side of the field. Screams could be heard in that direction, from desperate escapees and those unfortunate enough to be trapped by the mining equipment.


    "KEEP YOUR ARMS LOCKED!" Ben shouted behind him to be heard over the mob. "DON''T LET GO! WE''LL MAKE IT TO THE VAN!"


    The mosh pit people around him were not making this easy, but the determined councilman was not about to be the mayoral candidate who lost a kid during a villain attack. He struggled his way between cars and around trucks, fighting towards a van at the back of the parking lot. He could already see people in their cars trying to bump their way through the squishy humans. He was amazed people were insistent on using the designated exit rather than mowing down a few rows of corn, but panicking wasn''t a good way to think through a problem.


    Ben ground his teeth when Michael suddenly turned invisible, but he was at the end of the line, outside of Ben''s supposed ''circle of sight''. Ben had to naturally look back and check on the kids, pretending to just now see no Michael.


    "MICHAEL!" Ben screamed, his voice cracking as if stress was overwhelming him.


    The invisible kid turned visible, and Ben yelled at him, "DON''T DO THAT! THAT WASN''T FUNNY!"


    But he knew it wasn''t a joke. Michael had turned invisible so he could turn his head and look at the villain situation, considering his options. Of all people Michael would have the worst time against those mole jerks. They weren''t reliant on their sight, so invisibility was almost pointless.


    He dragged his team to the van and scrambled a bit to unlock the doors as panicked screamers bumped past everyone. He hit the unlock, then screamed at everyone to get in. He ran around to driver''s side, only to see Michael turn invisible and break away from the group.


    "MICHAEL!" Ben shouted, getting out of the drivers seat, only to pause as he had technically ''lost'' the invisible kid. "FUCK!"


    The latino teen ran back towards the moles, his practice at dodging while invisible helping him to get through the crowd.


    Ben opened the driver''s door and pointed to Katherine in the passenger''s seat, "Get everyone out of here! I''m going to get Michael. I swear if I see you turn around-!"


    The former supervillain stopped himself before he made a threat that would oust him as a supervillain.


    "JUST GO!" Ben shouted, then he ran back into the last few stragglers getting to safety.

 Chapter 27 - Heroless

    Ben activated his watch, stretching his vision across the fairgrounds. He saw Michael sprinting towards the giant digging machine, ignoring the obvious danger he was getting into. The councilman ran after him, matching speed so that he could catch up before the teen could do anything stupid.


    Thanks to the huge impression of the villains, everyone was just about gone. The only ones left were the cowards who were hiding and the hero, who was standing on top of the bleachers watching the mole men bickering.


    The hillbilly bearded moles were performing a slapstick comedy routine about improper driving and directions, pushing each other off the earth mover and onto the ground where they finally realized the fleeing bystanders had gotten away. They started screaming at each other for incompetence as an invisible kid paused to listen in without interfering. He could hear the very casual family argument they were having, and made the rookie mistake of poking his invisible head out to watch, assuming the moles couldn''t see him.


    Well, almost immediately, the largest of the three moles whipped his disgusting, buck-toothed, snot-nosed head around and stared right at Michael.


    "What''s it, Papa?" asked the smallest mole.


    "Looks like one of thee grubs hanged back!" said the large one. "Get''em, Mama!"


    The middle-sized mole person gave a hearty cackle, then plowed their thick claws into the soft topsoil and dug a hole into the ground. She kicked up enough dirt to raise a cloud, then disappeared under the grass.


    Ben watched as this mole swam through loose dirt towards Michael, and he realized he was still too far to catch him, even ''by accident''. The mother mole was going to reach him, and there wasn''t anything Ben could reasonably do about it.


    "I hope they don''t kill you, kid," Ben growled, slowing his run to be more stealthy.


    Sure enough, the ground beneath Michael burst open like the blowhole spray of a humpback whale, showering Michael in dirt and dust. A thick claw grabbed Michael''s leg, digging painfully into his flesh and making the kid scream. Ben hurried over to the sound of screaming as the teen''s lanky body was effortlessly turned upside down and lifted into the air by hideous mole mom.


    "This one''s fresh!" cackled the mother with malicious glee.


    Ben hid behind a porta potty under the slightly bent bleachers as he watched Michael get dragged kicking and screaming back to the family. He looked up into the announcer booth where the professional hero was watching with some concern that a person had just been captured. She seemed to weigh the pros and cons of saving the child or chocking it up to unfortunate death.


    Ben chastised the hero for not acting even as he also conspicuously waited for a good moment to step in. He rationalized this by pointing out that one of the cameras was still rolling, recording the whole situation. Ben had to be extra careful, because someone was going to find that footage and it was going to be examined in every detail.


    Michael struggled, cussing the mole mom out even as his twisting dug the claw further into his calf muscle.


    "Looks like this one could learn some MANNERS!" she shouted, then swung Michael like a sledgehammer straight into the side of the machine.


    "Gyathsdjey," Michael coughed/wheezed/sneezed/exhaled as the air was waylaid from his body. The jagged edges of the infernal digging contraption cut and dented his body, spilling blood as pain wracked his brain and screwed his nerves.


    The hero finally found the courage to intervene once she saw a student get slammed against jagged rusty metal.


    "STOP!" she shouted, taking a heroic stance despite her unheroic behavior. "Villains, let that boy go and face me!"


    Standing at the top of the bleachers next to the announcement box was a tall, blonde woman dressed in blue and gold armor plates pressed firmly into her skin. Her golden hair was flowing in the strong breeze from her high position, billowing out behind her like a cape as she stared her green eyes down at the mole people holding the battered Michael. The armor was so polished, it created a shine that was hard to look at, even if your eyes weren''t adjusted to underground living.


    "Is that-?!" the mole kid gasped.


    "It can''t be!" his pa shouted.


    "It is!" the heroine cheered, and she jumped down from the bleachers with impossibly strong legs. She cleared a distance further than any Olympic long-jumper, then landed on a metal bench the teams used on the sidelines, crushing the metal underneath her as she went.


    "Olympia, you bitch!" Ma mole shouted. "Quit seducin'' ma husband!"


    "Mama, she ain''t seducin'' me," Pa mole griped, although he glanced at the armored heroine with some hope in his pale eyes.


    "I''m," Olympia sputtered a bit, "I''m not seducing anyone. I... don''t even know who you are. I''m not like, a slut, or anything. I would never just do that."


    "See, mama?" Papa grinned, tracing his wife''s irregular jawline with his dagger-like claws and staring deeply into each other''s dead eyes. "You''re the only one for me, Honey Grub!"


    "Oh, Sweetie Beanie!"


    The two moles embraced each other in a display of passion and love that had Ben''s empty stomach churn like an ice cream maker. And he could see their long tongues swish around their weird teeth, which only added to the vileness.


    Olympia quickly stifled her look of disgust as she considered Michael was still being held by the mom for the entire sloppy make-out session.


    "So, umh," the heroine coughed loudly, "can I ask you to let that boy go so we can talk about why you put such a large hole in the middle of such a nice field?"


    "Ain''t it obvious?" the kid shouted playfully. "We here to kill you an''all the surface dwellers! We''s gonna take over the world!"


    "Good boy," Papa proudly beamed. "Throw''im the kid. Let the youngin start the show!"


    Mama tossed Michael over towards the child moleperson, and Ben chastised himself internally for being unprepared. With the way the bleachers were set up, there was an opening dead center. If he had snuck through there, he would be just behind the kid, who was standing closest to the stands, and could have intervened to pull Ben out of there. A golden opportunity wasted just because he was being cautious.


    Well, Ben wasn''t about to let that slip a second time, so he crept closer very slowly to be ready for the next presented opportunity.


    The kid couldn''t catch Michael with his jagged claws, and only succeeded in fumbling the teen onto the ground. The victim groaned and squealed as his body''s new aches and pains-- ached and pained anew. The blood loss was minimal, but it was just on the edge of where it would start to take a toll on the untrained mind. Plus, anyone whose hasn''t experience heavy bleeding tends to freak out over the small stuff. Luckily, Michael had two concussions thanks to being thrashed against hard metal and banging his head on the ground, so he was too delirious to freak out.


    "You remember where the liver is, dontcha?" Papa said, and Ben''s heart froze.


    "I sure do," the child mole said, and he pointed his finger on the skin just above Michael''s liver.


    "Thas right! Go at it!"


    "WAIT!" Ben shouted, unable to think of a better plan with the camera rolling and Olympia watching.


    "WHAT?" shouted Mama mole.


    "Wait, just... wait," Ben said, then scrambled to make himself look as distraught as possible. He grabbed some dirt and rubbed it on his face and shirt, getting some in his eye and agitating it enough to get some tears going. He also gripped his button-up shirt in a few places and squeezed to put some wrinkles in the fabric, making it look like he fell and it folded over.


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    Then he found it, just a little bit below the dirt, forgotten by time until just now. He quickly dug it out, adding to his disheveled look.


    Ben slowly emerged from the middle of the bleachers with his hands in the air, ready to act on a moments notice. The mole people just watched him come out while Olympia face-palmed, something Ben knew to be entirely reasonable. What he had just done from a hostage situation standpoint was give them another hostage for more leverage. Now that he was out, there was no way he could go back, and the mole people weren''t exactly the welcoming type.


    But Ben was playing this a bit more expertly than they knew. He may be improvising, but it wasn''t brainless.


    "T-t-t-TRADE!" he shouted like the terrified civilian he was supposed to be.


    "Whut?" Mama called out.


    "I p-prop-pose a trade!" Ben shouted, glancing nervously around as if looking for an authority figure to rely on. "Me for the b-boy!"


    "Heh," scoffed the father, "junior, bring that dumb surface dweller down here and chop''im up, too."


    Ben smiled on the inside as he dropped his hands and slowly backed away. The kid approached the bleachers, then used his powerful claws to cut through the metal link fence underneath and then stab into just under where Ben was standing.


    Ben jumped a little, dislodging his foot and backing down under the bleachers.


    Where the camera couldn''t see.


    The little brat was already next to the stairs and tried to stab Ben''s feet as he was coming down, but the former supervillain just hopped over the deadly claws and continued down under the stadium seats.


    "Thanks mister!" the young mole cheered. "Now I get to eat a whole two people! I usually only get an arm or a leg."


    "Sorry, kid," Ben said, reaching behind his back and grabbing the metal rebar he''d snuck into his pants waistband, "but I can''t let you do that."


    The rebar must have been from when the stadium was just being put in and the cement was being poured, because it was a leftover piece a foot in size with a cut end that made a simple point.


    "Ah, shucks," the mole chuckled, "steels my favorite snack! The surface kind tastes funny, but it''s awright."


    The mole kid lunged at Ben with its tiny legs, planning to dig his claws into the man''s legs to stop mobility, but Ben swung the rebar like a sword and cracked the kid in the skull.


    "OW!" the kid shouted, but rubbed his head sourly. "That hurt!"


    "It''s about to hurt a lot more," Ben said, and he spun the rebar between his fingers before finding a good grip to keep going.


    The kid ground his huge teeth and lunged again, but Ben was easily able to sidestep and swing for the fences, feeling a hard crack and vibration go up his arm as he got another solid hit on the youngest mole''s skull. The mole people were very strong and very durable, almost disgustingly so with the gripping power of their forearms and resiliency of their soft pelts meant for sub-earth pressures. But they clearly had a glaring weakness in their bone structures, specifically their stunted hind legs and the broad skulls that guaranteed any hit would land perfectly on top. The skull itself was a bit too strong to break with simple rebar, but the brain inside was still getting a serious shake on every hit.


    Before the child could recover for another lunge, Ben went on the offensive and gave chase, staying just out of claw range while bashing the kid in the head. Just from the mole kid''s reactions, he could tell the damage was starting to add up. His eyes that were already struggling to see in the bright surface light was starting to wander away from center, like he couldn''t focus them properly. Every swipe was now off-tempo, missing by even wider margins as Ben worked the metal rod into a brain damage delivery system.


    Two more whacks and the mole kid realized he was losing, so he turned to run, and that''s when Ben unleashed hell.


    He grabbed the rebar so he was holding it in downwards stab, then jammed it right into the foot of the fleeing mole kid.


    The animal-hybrid let out a mournful scream as jagged, rusty metal pierced his tender feet. It was especially nasty since Ben had managed to get it through in a way that it scraped bone.


    "MY BABY!" screamed Mama mole, and she quickly went underground.


    Ben didn''t have a lot of time. The kid mole was an inexperienced welp, but the mom was a full-grown beast who could probably take Ben down even with some of his less improvised weaponry. He grabbed the kid by the leg he''d stabbed and dragged him over to the bleachers, kicking and screaming in much the same way Michael did. The mole mother was searching underground for any sign of action, but Ben was able to get onto the bleacher steps before she could find them.


    "JUNIOR!" Papa mole shouted, enraged as his son cried for help.


    "DON''T MOVE!" Ben shouted in his best ''I''m just a civilian and I don''t want to hurt people, but don''t push me'' voice. "DON''T MOVE! Don''t... fucking move."


    "What are you doing!?" Olympia shouted from across the field, now worried for the cannibal mole child more than the bleeding, dying latino teen.


    "I just," Ben had to swallow as all the yelling made some bile collect in his throat, "want the boy. A trade. Your kid for the invisible kid."


    Ben made furious eyes at Olympia to go and collect the teen before his wounds got any worse, and the heroine got the message.


    "I''M NOT GIVING YOU SHIT!" cussed Papa mole, pounding the dirt with his claws. "IN FACT, I''M HUNGRY!"


    Papa mole opened his mouth and waddled towards Michael, who''s mental state was barely coherent enough to struggle crawl away.


    Ben really didn''t want to do this to a kid, but he grabbed the rebar stake in the young mole''s foot and ripped it out as painfully as possible. The sound the hybrid boy made was a hoarse wail of pain as his nerves fired all across his body with a sensation he''d never experienced.


    "STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" Ben screamed in an octave reserved for whistles, then he raised the pointy end of the metal just over the mole-kid''s face.


    With a motion that hurt his soul to perform, Ben jammed the business end of a metal stake into a child''s eye, stopping just before he reached anything else.


    The mole kid screamed in the most abominable and malicious pain he''d ever felt, and the sound brought the mama out of the ground under the bleachers. Ben had to wrestle the kid down so he would stop squirming, but also get him into a position that Papa and Mama could now see the pointed stake over the other eye.


    The mother was screaming and cursing and spitting all sorts of vileness at Ben, who genuinely felt guilty for harming a child, but Ben was yelling back while threatening to stab the kid''s other eye.


    "SHUT UP!" Ben shouted, accidentally jabbing a the other eye a bit, "EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP! THIS NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU JUST STAYED IN YOUR HOLE! THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPENED IF YOU JUST TRADED ME FOR THE KID!"


    Ben had to take several deep breaths to recover what he was shouting so much.


    "Here''s what''s going to happen," he said with absolute authority. "Olympia is going to grab Michael and take him to a safe place. When she comes back, I''m going to release this kid once I find out where she put him. Then I''m going to leave, and you all can fight like God intended. Does that sound like a plan?"


    "You''d better not hurt my baby, or else-!"


    "SUGAR TITS!" Papa yelled, accidently using bedroom lingo. "Don''t let him hurt Junior anymore! Leh''s just do what he says until we get Junior back."


    If looks could kill, Ben would be dead a hundred times over, but the mother remained still on the low side of the bleachers. Ben looked at Olympia to get her to act, but she didn''t seem too keen to engage in this hostage exchange. She begrudgingly walked around the huge hole in the field and towards Michael, where she gently picked him up and carried him a good distance away. Ben was telepathically screaming at her to hide the boy somewhere so the mole people couldn''t track them after they left, but he didn''t have that power and Olympia wasn''t that foresighted.


    Once Michael had been gently placed on the front table of a carny game about throwing baseballs at bottles, she returned to the scene to look at Ben expectantly.


    "What the hell kinda hero takes a kid hostage?" Mama growled angrily, getting ready for a fight.


    "That''s the problem," Ben growled back, "I''m not a hero."


    Ben lifted the mole kid by his bleeding back leg and swung him like a hammer as far as he could. It was a good throw, just barely clearing Mama''s upper reach as her stubby legs failed to jump high enough to catch, and landed too awkwardly to support her own weight. She tumbled down a few rows as Ben clambered down at the fastest his feet could find a foothold, then he leaped over the side once there was enough distance to land without breaking anything.


    The city councilman ran as fast as he less than fleet feet could carry him over to the carny game where Ben had been set. Thanks to his throwing of the mole kid, the mom and dad were too preoccupied with first aid and Olympia to chase him, but that could change, so he intended to get out of there as quickly as possible.


    That is, until he saw it.


    "no."


    At the very edge of his vision.


    "No."


    A van.


    "NO."


    Racing towards the fairgrounds.


    "NO NO NO!"


    With four teens inside.


    NO NO NO NO NO!"


    But it was too late. Ben was too far for them to hear from inside of the van. He pulled his phone out and quickly dialed Katherine''s number, but he could already tell she wasn''t going to pick up. Her adrenaline was pumping at near-toxic levels, and all the boys in the car were yelling at her how bad of an idea it was.


    She wouldn''t hear her phone over all that.


    Papa mole was fighting with Olympia, and just as Ben predicted, it was going badly. Olympia''s primary superpower was a healing aura, but she was only slightly stronger than most humans. The arms of the mole people would easily overpower her. She had already taken a huge cut to the gut from Papa, and Mama had finished her checks on Junior and was itchin'' to tear limb from limb. It was looking bad for Olympia, until a van horn interrupted their fight as a school-issued beater with a rubber donut on the rear tire came blazing around the corner.


    When Katherine saw Papa mole, she knew what to do, and pressed her foot on the gas pedal, completely oblivious to the scene behind Papa mole. It seemed the fatherly hybrid was as stupified as Ben, because he just stared at the oncoming van until it was too late. He french-kissed the bug-ridden grill of the van, which ellicited a cheer from Katherine, until she noticed the enormous, gaping hole Papa and Olympia had been fighting beside.


    Katherine screamed as she slammed on the brakes, but the sudden braking lost traction on the slightly damp playing field.


    Ben watched horrified as the rest of his hero team drove straight off the edge, and into the unknown darkness of the hole.

 Chapter 28 - Down the Rabbit Hole

    Ben was out of his mind.


    Michael was slipping into critical condition, Katherine just drove the entire team off the deep end with Papa mole, and Mama mole was still fighting with Olympia.


    "One thing at a time," Ben chided, and he turned his attention to Michael.


    Ben pulled his phone out and called emergency services while stealing what he needed from the carnival fair ride to patch up his team member. The 911 call was unhelpful, but they were tracking his phone and could use it to find Michael, so he could turn his attention to other things.


    Once his condition wasn''t getting worse, Ben turned his attention to the most immediate problem: Mama supervillain that was actively tearing into Olympia. If he could somehow take Mama out of the equation, he could get Olympia to heal Michael. But there was no way to take down such a strong hybrid superhuman without raising suspicion.


    So he just had to be sure that any suspicion raised wasn''t directed at him.


    Now that he had some time to spare thanks to Olympia healing all damage and tanking hits from Mama, Ben could grab a few things to be better prepared. The first thing he did was go straight to the police tent where the advanced power sensing system was hidden. The police and heroes do different tasks, so they all fled with the other civilians, but their van had some modern firearms inside. Nothing that could penetrate the hide of mole Mama, but it was the deadliest thing they had. Standard issue police firearms inside a locked safe with the passcode written on a sticky note stuck to the underside of the safe itself.


    Ben grabbed one pistol and holster, using the holster to stash two spare, pre-loaded magazines. He reached for the shotgun, loaded it with shells, then slotted spare 12 gauge into the side rack. Five buckshot in the gun, six shells in the side rack, Ben most likely had enough firepower, but he stuffed six extra shells into his pockets for safe keeping.


    The village councilman was going to have to play this cool. He couldn''t be too effective or risk being exposed, but he had to end the fight with the minimal firepower he had.


    "Let''s rock," he said, racking the shotgun to put a round in the chamber.


    Ben burst out as Olympia took a hard swipe to the knee that blew out her tendon. She was a healer tank, so she didn''t scream, but it was clear the constant injuries were starting to take a toll on her mental state. She was getting sloppy, whiffing punches and ignoring smaller wounds.


    Ben came out of the police tent armed and dangerous, jogging back to the bleachers to see Olympia on her knees in front of a hard breathing Mama.


    ''Let''s see how good my acting is,'' Ben thought, seeing Olympia getting her ass kicked from just around the corner. He took aim like a movie he''d seen about professional assassination, then approached in an awkward crouch that just dropped his hips a little. Once the mole lady was in view, they locked eyes right as Ben pulled the trigger on the shotgun.


    The hot spray of lead pellets caught the mole woman in her thick neck, penetrating just under the fur and burning her from an inch deep. She screamed with the echoing boom of the 12 gauge, but her reaction was more exaggerated than Ben wanted, so he fumbled with re-racking the shotgun to give her a second to recover. By the time he had the next shell in the chamber, Mama mole was already clawing her way towards Ben when another shotgun blast caught her in the shoulder. She yelped and spun backwards as if punched in the side, then another shotgun blast caught her in the rump.


    Mama mole didn''t waste another moment in the open and dug her way underground, just fast enough for a shell to go over her hind. Ben was able to track her through the ground with his sight, but he turned around cluelessly so that the camera made it look like he''d lost her. She dug towards Ben, following the sound of his confused footsteps until she was within Ben''s range of sight, ready to pop out of the ground.


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    Ben jumped up a little, blowing the next shotgun blast straight into the shoulder that already had some buckshot. Mama mole shrieked, but her attack still went through, clipping Ben''s heel before he could escape. He used his good leg to bounce off her head, then rolled towards Olympia whose healing aura was projecting just far enough to ease the pain of his severed sole.


    "OLYMPIA!" Ben roared without taking his eyes off the digging hybrid. "I NEED SOME HELP!"


    The heroine''s twisting flesh was still wrapping its way around her throat, so all she could do was gargle in response.


    Ben backed up towards the regenerating hero, pretending to lose tracking of the mole person and back up closer to the gaping hole. The aura extending out of Olympia was clearly visible by the ring of rapidly growing grass, which Ben backed into without bumping. He felt his heel healing, but he kept his attention on Mama as she charged for another attack.


    Ben hesitated for his next shot, causing the mole woman to dodge at the wrong time and catch a shotgun blast to the opposite shoulder. While her thick hide soaked up the buckshot, the hot, searing pain of lead blasted into the body was starting to take a harsh toll. Mama''s breathing was becoming more labored and her eyes were less focused. She was taking longer to gather her wits as Ben evaded and countered. Her blood loss was minimal, none of her organs had been damaged, but her heart was five times stronger than a normal human''s, and was pumping blood vigorously.


    Blood full of adrenaline, platelets..., and lead.


    Ben watched as the buckshot piercings were pulled into the bloodstream of this mole hybrid, reaching the kidneys of an animal whose digestive system always filtered heavy metals through the stomach.


    Mama mole was slowing down as the heavy metal poisoning became toxic. Her claw hands wavered as the chills started, and her agility drastically decreased as numbness spread through her arms and legs.


    An unintended side effect, but a welcome one.


    She swiped a deadly claw at Ben, but it was so lethargic, he could have avoided it even without his dimensional sight.


    "W-what did you do to me!" she screeched like a banshee.


    "I must have hit something important," Ben breathed with a fake sigh of relief, then racked the last shell in his gun and fired directly into her face.


    The force of the impact knocked her backwards like a punch from Mike Tyson, catching airtime before slamming her back into the grassy field. Her entire body flopped a bit as the mole woman screamed. The shot was dead-centered to strike that powerful skull for a concussion on top of her lead poisoning, but some of the buck went wide and dug into her eye.


    Now that she was down, Ben backed up towards Olympia while loading shells, preparing for further hostility.


    "How are you doing?" he asked the superheroine.


    He could see she had only healed the outer layers of skin and was only just now getting to internal injuries, but she grinned and said, "Peachy. How''s the mole woman?"


    "Something was happening that made her slow," Ben said, sliding the last shot into the holding chamber, "so I got a good shot to her face. I think I might be able to finish her off."


    "NO!" Olympia shouted reaching out for the shotgun. "Heroes don''t kill!"


    "I''M NOT A HERO," Ben shouted, pulling away. She reached for his ankles, but Ben danced around her grip.


    Olympia panicked as he racked his next shot, and she kept her healing going while injuredly lunging at Ben. She managed to get hands on his shirt, pulling him in as he wrestled to keep the shotgun out of her reach.


    As the hero and councilman tussled, the mole woman was nursing her wounds while rage seethed through her heart and mind. Narrow minded by fury, she noticed that both of her adversaries were clumped very closely together. The heroine was weighing over him, using her body weight to push him down and get the firearm, and the proximity of their bodies was almost singular.


    Using their distraction as an opportunity, the Mama got into a sprinter''s position, digging her claws into the ground for additional grip. Ben could tell what she was about to do and had to stop from smiling.


    He was planning to orchestrate some cock-eyed scheme to tackle Olympia down the hole, using her body to cushion the impact and her healing aura to recover afterward.


    If Mama was going to fulfill this role, it was almost too perfect.


    For his part, Ben managed to turn the wrestling around, facing his and Olympia''s backs to the mole woman as she prepared for take-off. Hopefully she was faster than her kid, who waddled like a penguin to try attacking him.


    To Ben''s relief, Mama launched like a rocket. Her powerful arms and claws in the ground boosted her at breakneck speeds.


    Like the van that took her husband over the edge, Mama rammed into Olympia''s back, skull to spine as the force took the wind out of both the heroine and the man she was trying to disarm. The force carried them all over the edge, and Ben was the only one who was happy about it.


    ''Now I just have to figure out how to ride this down to the kids,'' Ben thought, gazing into the abyss as the air from the fall started pulling at his face.

 Chapter 29 - The Peeves of a Gentle Man

    Ben grabbed Olympia around the waist and screamed in fear. She quickly registered the falling and used her enormous body to shield the civilian as much as she could, kicking away Mama mole as they fell.


    ''Almost 1,500 feet until the ground starts to angle,'' Ben calculated, ''then another 3,000 feet until the ground is relatively flat enough to fight comfortably on. We''ll have to roll, but the whiplash of spinning so much could seriously disorient me. I need to think-''


    As Ben fell, the area his sight covered dropped with him, and just a few thousand feet beyond where he projected the best fight could take place was the crumpled remains of a van, somehow still on its wheels. It was absolutely destroyed, every window broken and every metal piece dented inside and out. The passengers were sitting in their seats, beaten down by debris, but no serious impalements. Katherine had a steadily bleeding nose from a direct impact by the airbag, but otherwise, it was a very successful crash. Their target, Papa mole, was underneath the car, one of his arms crushed inside the wheel well with the donut.


    But the hybrid villain was still alive, his heartbeat still pumping blood through his vile body.


    ''Thank god they''re alive,'' Ben thought as he reached terminal velocity with the heroine cushion. ''Now l can torture them myself.''


    The first impact didn''t hurt, thanks to Olympia taking the brunt of it, but it did put the two into a spin. Every bouncing impact after that turned the spin into a ride inside centrifuge hell. Ben could actually see his blood moving in his body, congealing harder at the furthest point from center. Thanks to his clever use of Olympia, that was his back, a place where it was safe for blood to pool.


    But they reached the part of the ride where the bouncing became a roll, and Ben had to take some of the hits along with the heroine.


    Olympia''s healing aura was projected around them at full force to survive the fall, but Ben could see it was draining her stamina. Her grip around him was weakening, and the muscles she had braced for impact were starting to loosen.


    Mama mole didn''t fare much better, the harsh ground tearing at her bullet wounds like sandpaper on bread. They weren''t even halfway down the hole and the hybrid already resembled ground beef.


    The pain was excruciating, but the worst part of it was that he would have to live with the injury like a normal person. The camera watched him fall, Olympia was a witness, and the kids were doubtless stand witness the destruction of his body. He couldn''t just repair everything in the med bay, it would be suspicious for his highly damaged body to suddenly repair itself. He would have to go through the hospital system and get check-ups for months afterwards, playing it off with his natural regeneration.


    All of this was going through Ben''s head as he performed a barrel roll with Olympia, keeping his head pulled forwards so as not to crack his skull on the bedrock. Olympia''s healing aura was keeping her cognizant and her armored spandex was keeping her from the sandpaper affect of the rock, but her aura was starting to wane along with her strength. She may have been the world''s best active healer, but she''s supposed to be a backline fighter. For her power to be used best, she needed concentration, something she lacked when fist fighting with mole people. She had been burning through her energy reserves, and it showed.


    Ben''s primary fear happened when they were getting close to the bottom of the decline, Olympia''s head jerked back and cracked her skull on the hard rock ridge made by the digging machine. Like turning off a light, her healing aura disappeared and she let go of Ben, but he didn''t let go of her. He grabbed the giant woman and squeezed her tight, trying and failing to position her correctly. As his shoulders and back took a pound of flesh from the sandstone ramp, he finally got on top.


    Ben rode the giant woman like a surfboard toboggan, using her shoulders and butt as footholds while pulling her hair to keep her head up to not flip his new ride. He had to balance really well, the unevenness of her flesh and the lost traction of her suit making his position no top very precarious.


    The ride was far from comfy, and the air blowing past Ben''s open back and arms was burning in a dozen different ways. But this innovative mode of transportation got both of them to the bottom of the cavern with less injury on his side, although Olympia''s entire front half looked like lasagna with extra tomato paste.


    Ben stepped off the superheroine and onto the moist rock of the newly carved cave. Groundwater was already starting to spill in, but the cave went on for quite a while at varying levels. The place wouldn''t fill up with water anytime soon, but the ground was extra slippery.


    Ben could see the kids in the van a little over a football field away, even though the cave was almost entirely pitch black. The curvature of the cave was just enough to stop all sunlight from getting in, and Ben needed to be aware of that fact.


    Grumbling the whole way, the village councilman flipped Olympia onto her well-preserved back and got a handful of her blonde hair in his hands. With agonizing pain in his muscles, he started pulling her further into the cave towards the kids. When she woke up, he would have everyone gather around for some quick repairs, then do the thing no supervillain would dream of doing:


    Wait to be rescued.


    As he dragged the herculean heroine towards his team, Ben tried to imagine how long it would take for people to realize they were down there. The camera on the stands was running, but it wasn''t broadcasting anywhere. They would have to manually check the films to figure it out, which could take days. Of course, there would eventually be some heroes or superhumans who could make the trip down the tunnel, but they would be super cautious for traps. The groundwater could sustain them during that time, and food wasn''t too big an issue, but no doubt the parents would be worried about them.


    There was one hope for an earlier rescue, but even Ben couldn''t tell if it was possible.


    Garrett''s phone was the only one that survived the crash intact. It was the updated model Nokia made specifically for hybrid superhumans whose abilities tend to disturb phones. If his phone could somehow get service down the tunnel, they could call emergency services for a ride out of there.


    "Try to take my gun, you stupid bitch," Ben griped, containing his fury for the sake of healing everyone''s injuries. "I shoulda just kicked you down here. I can still chop your head off. Fucking trying anything with me again, I fucking dare you."


    Ben approached the vehicle with an ungodly malice now that the childish source of all his problems was within strangling distance. He kept a cool head, reminding himself that teenagers were reckless idiots one and all, but decided to make sure the situation couldn''t get any worse.


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    The car was horribly misshapen, but mostly intact. The broken glass was scattered across the tunnel, but all the pieces were still in place and the internal lights were still on despite the battery leaking acid and water. The gas tank had split open and splashed everywhere, but the groundwater leaking in from all sides had dispersed the petroleum enough to make it non-threatening. Even if something did ignite the van, there wasn''t enough flammable material to catch the whole thing aflame. Thankfully, the piece he needed was still there, and still intact thanks to being so centered.


    The former villain dropped the heroine, letting her cracked skull crack a bit more on the hard ground, and circled the van until he was just over the hood. He reached underneath the horribly cracked metal plate and grabbed the dipstick from the cracked engine, sliding it out with a metallic sling. He shook the oil off a bit and then folded it in half to get more structural strength, then pushed it under clinched metal to twist it into shape.


    When he was done, Ben had a twisted metal dipstick with one very specific use.


    Ben walked around the car to the rear left side, where a certain hybrid bastard had his arm wrapped around an axle. The mole person''s head was just a little bit under the main body of the car, so Ben had to lay down and snake his arm through the skin and bone fragments with his twisted metal dipstick firmly on his middle finger. The mole''s vitals remained unconscious while he was doing this, and Ben even poked him a few times to see if too much stimulation would bother him.


    When the councilman was satisfied, he positioned the jagged metal drain snake right at the tip of the mole person''s ear canal and wiggled it in enough to get a good start.


    With the most sudden use of force Ben could muster, he jabbed the metal in all the way down to the knuckle, then ripped it out.


    Papa mole stirred, his unconscious slipping away as his body''s emergency systems flooded with every hormone they had to respond to the danger. Ben plunged once more before the claws started to move and the eyes started to flicker. His voice started to grumble, then groan, then rose in pitch until it was just a squeal like he was having a nightmare. This squeal turned bloody and violent as all of Papa moles nerves lit his brain up like fireworks on the fourth of July.


    But Ben could tell this was the dying scream of a tortured animal. The mole person had significant internal bleeding from the crash and fall, but they could have lived if left alone. And he definitely could have survived if Olympia did the classic hero move and healed him with what little energy she had left. Maybe he could turn his life around and not be a sick bastard cannibal, and maybe he could have lived peacefully into the future with a loving wife and son.


    But Ben wasn''t about to let this slide. His little drain cleaning maneuver had gone all the way to the brain and pierced things that jagged metal should never touch. As long as the giantess''s underlying power manipulation hadn''t changed, complex brain functions were just a little bit out of her abilities to repair.


    Unfortunately, the daddy mole''s dying thrashes was shaking the car, and all the kids inside. This jostling managed to stir Gary, who had the least amount of injuries out of everyone. He woke with a start into the pitched blackness at the bottom of a very long tunnel, and the dying screams of a human-sized mole with brain problems.


    Gary panicked, and rightfully so. This situation was so far from ordinary, anyone without experience in the abstract would have a hard time grasping the chain of events that got them there.


    However, the dual sounds of a dying animal and a crying teenager was bugging Ben, who was all bugged-out from the day''s catastrophes. With weakened limbs and exhausted will, Ben called out down the tunnel.


    "Kids!" he rasped. "Kids!" Are you there!"


    Gary responded to the sound of Ben''s voice, making incoherent blubbering noises that were supposed to be responses.


    Ben made some light scraping sounds as he got to his feet, simulating something approaching from far away, then he shouted, "The van! I see the van! And everyone''s okay! Mostly.... Gary! My god, Gary! What happened?! Why did you guys come back?!"


    The teen boy couldn''t properly utter words, he just cried as the life-threatening fall and near-death experiences caught up to him. His huge body heaved sobs of distraught on a level of personal distress only pampered children could conjure.


    Ben had to turn on caring councilman mode just to deal with the situation, "It''s okay! Everything''s okay! The moleman is trapped under the car and Olympia is here! Once she wakes up, she''ll heal everyone all at once. I promise!"


    It was a lie, Olympia barely had the healing aura to correct her own injuries, but with some time to recover, she could probably do enough to make the kids believe they''d been healed.


    Ben already knew the door was busted beyond repair and opening it was a mug''s game, so he just reached through the broken glass and put a reassuring hand on Gary''s shoulder. The big boy hyperventilated in the faded overhead light of the car. He was breathing so heavily, it shook Garrett awake as well, who didn''t seem to recognize the danger they were in and just looked around confusedly.


    Now all Ben had to do was wait, which he decided to do it in the most minimal comfort possible. Keeping up appearances, he circled the van while Garrett kept a hand on Gary to pick up the massive heroine and drag her to the van. The two boys recognized her immediately and followed Ben''s plan to let her rest on one of the seats. They helped lift the enormous woman into the vehicle, getting her mostly on the center row as they moved into the back. Each movement elicited squeaks of pain from the varmint under the car, but Ben was happy with it.


    With the heroine in the car, Ben sat on the open door and relaxed, feeling the mess of the day''s trouble stick to him like soda. He would have so much cleaning to do when he got back home, it was almost unreal. Absolutely he would be milking this travesty for every vacation day he could get.


    He was so distracted, he almost forgot to make the phone call. He asked Garrett for his phone to try calling from down the tunnel, and the snake boy gave it willingly, along with his passcode. Ben told the boys to stay there and not disturb either of the unconscious teens.


    He knew there was no brain or spinal damage, he just didn''t want to deal with more crying children right now.


    Ben slogged his way back to the opening of the tunnel where it was light enough to see again, then started an arduous climb up a gradually steepening incline. He held the phone high while his wet tennis shoes struggled to find traction on the muddy, rocky surface. He tried to remember what cell towers were in the area and what kind of coverage everyone was getting prior to the mole incident, when a single bar of service ticked on Garrett''s phone.


    The councilman felt relief for the first time since setting out on this horrible adventure, and climbed a little more to secure as strong a signal as he could.


    Ben called 911 and his call was picked up immediately. He cried into the phone like a bitch that mole people showed up and attacked his student, then attacked him, and now he was down a deep hole, "and I don''t know WHAT''S going on!"


    The helpline stayed on the phone with him until they got confirmation that a flying hero would arrive there in under an hour and to hold tight.


    Ben cried, "I have to go back! There are kids here! We''re all scared! Just get here as fast as you can!"


    He started back down the steep tunnel, losing signal as he went until the line died. He then turned on the light of the phone and stumbled his way back to the van.


    The mole person finally stopped screeching when he got back, but now Stanley and Katherine were awake and trying to fix the situation.


    "I managed to get a call through," Ben said with a facade of calm. "Emergency services knows we''re here and they''re sending people to come rescue us. It''ll take about an hour. We just need to sit tight until then."


    There were tears of joy and relief as the kids finally got word that everything was going to be okay. Katherine and Stanley had gotten out of the front seats, so Ben took the driver''s seat and pressed back against the headrest.


    "Are you okay?" Katherine asked, the first to observe Ben''s condition. "How did you get down here with us?"


    "The question is:" Ben responded sourly, "What am I going to do with you all once we get out?"


    "What?" Katherine backed away slightly.


    "You drove off a cliff and made me jump in after you," Ben explained very succinctly. "I am never going to let you live this down."

 Chapter 30 - Those Darn Heroes

    The rescue effort took all day and night thanks to the flying hero, Jetstream, not being able to fly while carrying something heavier than a hundred pounds. This small oversight threw Ben into a blind rage. He cussed and swore at the flying hero, calling him nine kinds of weak and cowardly as the poor guy promised to fly down with some food and water. Ben threw a piece of junk at him, which missed entirely, but the flying hero got the point.


    Before flying away, Ben quickly apologized and asked about Michael''s condition. Jetstream held back his own anger and calmly explained that the boy was in critical condition and had been moved to a hospital for urgent care. Ben thanked him, then waited for him to return with fair food, water, and snacks.


    Then the flying hero''s true colors were revealed when he followed Ben back to the wrecked van and saw the heavy hitter Olympia passed out on the middle row. He squealed like a fanboy and flew a somersault in joy, then asked if anyone thought she would mind taking a lock of her hair. Stanley got between the two heroes on instinct as Ben explained how weird it was to take someone''s hair.


    Deflated somewhat, the professional hero said, "At least she''s okay. Leadership was worried the attack had gotten to her since it was so coordinated."


    "...Coordinated attack?" Ben picked the words out carefully.


    And that''s when the team found out that their county fair wasn''t just a random assault by mole yokels (mokels?), more than a hundred other locations had also been attacked by supervillains simultaneously. They weren''t all moles, it wasn''t a hybrid animal uprising, but hundreds of small-time villains all attacked junior hero tournaments at the same time.


    Ben was shocked into silence, and it wasn''t a facade of his village councilman persona. He was genuinely shocked. Villains were so bad at organizing, it was a form of miracle for five of them to cooperate long enough to steal candy from a baby. It would take an extraordinary amount of time and energy to prioritize and disseminate that kind of raw villainous power. Ben cast his vision back to the mole father and inspected his brain closely. Nothing stood out to him, everything was where it should have been and no nano-bots.


    If it was mind control, it was either telepathic or hypnotism. The only things that left no visible mark on the brain.


    But who was their leader?


    Leader being a very specific term. Villains weren''t big on council and republic leadership, there had to be a single leader who was powerful enough to keep everyone in line. Nobody immediately came to mind, so either this person was brand new on the scene, or some welp from the past found a way to grow exponentially more powerful.


    But there was something else bothering him.


    Was it truly a coincidence that Olympia, the primary healer from the top brass of the Hero Association, just so happened to be at the site of a major villain attack? Not just a villain attack, but the attack that also happened to include the former supervillain, The Gentleman? The one who killed Ymir?


    Her former, deceased fiance?


    It started off as a Hero Association gimmick to have two of their big shots get married. When they found out they had similar depraved tastes, the two really hit it off and got serious about marriage. They were spouse-to-be for two years, and it was their upcoming marriage that had Ymir drop his guard enough to kidnap.


    Ben was already careful to limit his time with Olympia as much as possible, lest she pick up on his real identity. The kids made that physically impossible, but there was a catharsis he hadn''t felt in a long time watching the blue bastard''s bitch get cut. Feeling her giving so much just to protect her fianc¨¦e''s killer was a wonderful twist of fate.


    This had to be sorted out, but Ben wasn''t about to activate his whole power right in front of the people who would kill him on sight. He had to wait, to play the village councilman caught in a bad situation, until he was finally, truly alone.


    That. Took. Forever.


    Olympia woke up soon after Jetstream arrived, and the kid fanboyed like a bitch when she activated her healing aura. When she did so, her bad habit came into play, and Ben could see her mouth water as the skin on his back and arms molded like clay back into place. Ben had been doing his best not to draw attention to it, but his shirt was in tatters and anyone could see his bare torso. The myriad of scars underneath were barely visible in the poor lighting around the car and would become even harder to see as night fell, but Ben still asked Jetstream to make himself useful and get some fresh clothes.


    But it was too late.


    The giantess heroine directed more of her healing energy at Ben as his body still seemed to be injured.


    "You can stop," Ben said in a defeated tone.


    "You took the brunt of the fall," Olympia reasoned, "your body''s taking longer to heal thanks to that."


    "My power allows me to see all facets of my body. Believe me, I''m fully healed."


    "Oh yeah?" she challenged. "Then what is this?"


    She reached out to an uneven patch of skin and pushed it like a button, expecting some pained reaction.


    "That''s a burn scar," Ben said, "when I was caught in a housefire."


    "Oh!" the heroine said a little too excitedly. "Then what about this?"


    She traced her finger across a thin line of split skin that disappeared under his tattered clothes.


    "I worked in a warehouse when a shelf collapse dropped machetes all over me," he excused.


    "This?" she asked, flicking a mogul set on his shoulder.


    Ben gave some pitiless explanation for every visible injury, and he could already feel Olympia''s heavy breathing as he went into the scarred story of his life. She was a sadist, but specifically got off on watching skin move around in strange ways. It wasn''t specifically an injury basis, she''d get heated just pushing skin around, but Ymir was a specialist in twisting flesh.


    Olympia was getting a little too handsy, pulling his tattered shirt aside to get a better look at the roadmap of injuries Ben had suffered. The kids were all intrigued as well, listening in on the mysterious happenstance that caused so many injuries to stain one person''s body.


    "Can we not?" Ben finally cracked, scooting away from Olympia and giving up the seat he''d spent the last few minutes getting comfortable in. "I don''t like people looking at me without a shirt."


    Ben realized he made a mistake when Olympia''s heart skipped a beat and she started salivating. The chill that ran down his spine was not from the freezing cold air.


    "You know, I can fix that for you if I''ve got some time to work on it," the giant healer offered, placing her pitcher''s mitt of a hand fully on his back. "Scars take a bit more time, but they''re still injuries I can fix. We''d just have to make sure nothing pinches afterwards."


    "No thank you," Ben quickly turned down, picking up the vibe that this wasn''t a medical request, it was a wine-and-dine affair. "I''ve been to physical therapy for a while now. I''m comfortable in this skin."


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    The former villain had to pound his chest to keep his carnival food down as the back of his mind pictured what a night with the nine foot tall bodybuilding skin-ripping enthusiast would be like.


    "Are you really okay?" Katherine asked, noting the many, many, many jagged edges of Ben''s body.


    "They''re old injuries, they don''t bother me anymore."


    Ben had a great idea, so he ran with it.


    "It was before I got my power," he said. "Nothing''s touched me since."


    "What''s your power?" Jetstream asked, really hoping to join a conversation with Olympia.


    "He can see five feet in all directions," Katherine interjected. "It''s kinda spooky."


    "What''s that like?"


    "I usually carry around a packet of playing cards, like for poker, then have people hold up a whole deck where I can''t see with my eyes. Then I just list off what the cards are, because I can see all sides of all things within my area of sight."


    "Can you see anything on me?" Olympia asked with a wink.


    "You have a tattoo of a tiger on your right shoulder and tendonitis in your right Achilles tendon. Your arteries have some damage from high blood sugar. You ate two corndogs and a whole funnel cake at the fair. You aren''t a natural blonde, you''re a redhead."


    "Wow, so you can see under the skin, huh?"


    Ben stared intensely at the giantess''s green eyes and said, "Oh yeah, I see everything."


    The way he said this was meant to imply, ''do not try anything you sick freak, I am watching you''.


    This was clearly not the message that was received, because Olympia almost soiled herself as her heart pounded in frisky anticipation. And when she realized Ben could see her body''s reaction, she actually soiled herself a little.


    ''This sick pervert,'' Ben ground his teeth, ''doing this in front of children. I should have killed her while I was still a villain.''


    "Since we''re going to be stuck here with not much to do," Ben tried to distract by activating his peppy councilman facade, "let''s go over how we could have handled things better. Let''s start with Katherine. What could you have done differently to get a better outcome?"


    "I should have stopped the vehicle and gotten out instead of ramming into the villain," she immediately self-reported.


    "That''s good," Ben softened the blow, "but I was thinking more about getting an idea of your surroundings before jumping into a situation. If you had circled the field once in the van, you would have seen-"


    "I''m sorry, what is this?" Jetstream interrupted.


    "We do a review after all our games."


    "Then, you should have just left this to the pros," the flying hero said. "You literally had the strongest healing hero in the world on your defense, everything would have been fine if none of you intervened."


    "That''ll be my critique for Michael."


    "OH MY GOD!" Katherine shrieked, suddenly realizing they had a fifth member outside the hole. "How is Michael? Is he okay?"


    "I healed him a bit while your coach was having a standoff with the mole people," Olympia said. "He''ll be fine. Why was he near the fairground field in the first place?"


    "I couldn''t tell you," Ben sighed. "Out of the whole team, Michael was the last person I thought would pull a stunt like that."


    "He''s really confident in his ability to turn invisible," Gary suggested. "He didn''t think he would get caught."


    "Ahhh, that makes sense," Olympia sympathized. "I once stuck my arm in a paper shredder because I thought my healing would get me through it. Now my left arm is an inch shorter than the right."


    "So that''s what that is," Ben chuckled. "I thought it was weird that your left forearm had this weird compression to it."


    "Compression? What do you mean?"


    "Like, it''s not just an inch shorter, it''s almost an inch skinnier around and down to the bone is denser."


    "Denser, huh?" Olympia asked rhetorically, inspecting her arms more closely. "Anything else you can see?"


    ''Ah, crap,'' Ben thought while keeping up a smile, "Nothing a doctor or an x-ray couldn''t tell you. Although something I don''t need my power to see is how much Stanley there wants to ask you a question."


    Stanley suddenly jumped to attention, rendering a crisp salute like rookie infantryman as the professional heroes turned to him.


    "Ah, yes, well... uhm," he stumbled for words, "I was just hoping, you see, that maybe, you might, while we''re here, give us, I mean everyone, some tips?"


    Jetstream and Olympia turned to Ben for a translation.


    "He hoped you guys would get involved in our feedback session. Anything you''d like to say on how Katherine here could have handled it better?"


    For the next few hours while the emergency crews got together an empire state building worth of rope, Ben hosted a little get together between two professional heroes and four student heroes. Jetstream was very critical, mostly because he had to take time away from his family to be here, so Olympia played heart and was super constructive. Garrett asked the most questions because he was the one with the most problems as a hybrid superhuman, and Gary asked about any tips for constructer type powers because his brown constructs were weak and flimsy.


    When the sun went down, Jetstream flew up and brought down more food and lights for everyone and a long-range walkie-talkie. All of the kids got a chance on the comms to talk to their parents who were all worried sick, and Ben very carefully explained what had happened and why everyone was down a deep, dark hole. The flying hero said that there were blankets in case the rescue ran into the night, but a super strength hero had brought in a chain he uses to pull cargo ships up rivers, so rescue should come shortly.


    "Before we leave, and before I forget," Ben announced to the kids, "remember to thank Olympia and Jetstream for saving us."


    He wanted to puke saying it, but it sounded like something a peppy high school coach would say.


    "Actually, that''s what I''ve been thinking of a good way to say," Olympia interjected, standing up and dusting herself off. "Mr. Hersh, if I''m being honest with myself, those mole people were tearing me apart. I normally operate with someone who can tank hits, I''m not a frontline fighter at the best of times. The dad mole really had me on the ropes, and the mother was really ripping me apart. If you and your team hadn''t intervened, I don''t think I would have won the fight. Don''t ever do it again, for the love of god, I couldn''t forgive myself if anything had happened that we couldn''t fix. But..."


    "You guys definitely have what it takes to be heroes, and I hope you continue on the path to become ones. If anyone asks, in my opinion, you definitely won the high school hero tournament."


    Ben''s mind disassociated from his body and unleashed a fury that could destroy a small planet. He imagined himself destroying the cosmos and collapsing suns, then returned with a smile so strained it could be confused with a botched Botox treatment.


    The kids went ballistic, cheering that they won the tournament and thanking Olympia for her vote of confidence. They jumped and hooted and hollered so loudly, the radio buzzed to life asking if everything was okay because they heard a commotion.


    The chain that was lowered down had links as thick as Olympia''s arms with a shark cage and a dozen harnesses. Jetstream flew back to the top to ask for directions while Ben and Olympia sorted it out on the fly. They all strapped into the shark cage and held on for dear life as Jetstream radioed up that everyone was secured. The climb was slow, but incredibly disorienting as the cage caught on every tiny lip and uneven surface to spin and jerk in all directions. It disgusted him to no end when, after Ben was thrown at Stanley by the jerking motion, Olympia swapped positions with the young lad so she would get a handful of Ben instead.


    As the cage ascended the pit, the freezing cold subterranean temperatures became warmer and the dead silence of completely still air gave way to the mumble of a distant crowd. Air started to flow and swirl again. The world became a little more normal.


    The rescue workers had a giant spotlight down the hole to provide some small measure of light. When it caught the glint of the shark cage, a cheer went up from the crowd that was deafening. Jetstream thought now was a good time to explain how they would get out of the cage, but he was drowned out by the raucous praise of a thousand carnival goers.


    Lights from a thousand phones, multiple stadium spotlights and one news helicopter blinded the people who had spent the last few hours in impenetrable darkness. Ben had to rely solely on his dimensional sight to see what was going on, which was a bit difficult when the cage flipped on its side and he was dangling from the harness like a pinata. Olympia held onto the side and put her arm out to stop Gary and Katherine from slamming the bars. They were dragged like this a bit further while deaf from cheers and blind from the spotlight, then the cage stopped and people rushed to get it open.


    Everyone''s parents were held back as professionals quickly opened the cage and very carefully extracted one person at a time. Ben was muted during the whole operation, but the accumulated stress and sudden relief had Katherine, Gary, and Stanley tearing up. Garrett didn''t have the luxury of tears because he was crying the whole ride up while trying to hold down the consequences of his motion sickness.


    Olympia undid her harness and used her strength to hold the others while the professionals undid their harnesses and led them out of the cage. Cameras flashed nonstop, adding to the blindness as everyone''s parents were finally released and rushed the cage. Tears and hugs and wails were had by all, giving the photographers a hundred good shots for the front of a magazine or newspaper.


    Ben was the last one out, and he got a little bit extra of a helping hand from Olympia. He stepped out, took a second to feel the grass again, and the heroine took the second to put an arm around Ben like old friends.


    ''I should have killed her,'' Ben thought while playing along nicely.


    Then she did it, the giantess took true advantage of the situation to ruin Ben''s perfect, little life.


    While all the cameras were on them, she gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.


    The Hero Association''s most notorious celibate and relationless spinster, whose only known partner was the big, blue Ymir, lovingly kissing a total nobody.


    Deliberately in front of the press.


    ''I''m gonna have to kill her, now.''

 Chapter 31 - The Last Straw

    Ben shut his home''s front door and screamed. He inhaled like a chain-smoking opera singer with a third lung, and just screamed bloody murder. He threw his whole body behind it, flexing every muscle and activating every nerve so his entire being was screaming along with him.


    The biggest story in the press was the coordinated attack on high school hero functions across the country. Each area had their own story, but on the second page of every newspaper, magazine, and blog post was some opinion on Olympia''s kiss with a stranger.


    After the kiss, Ben was hounded by reporters for the entire rest of the trip. Journalists followed their group to the hospital where they were all checked out and got to see Michael, who had almost gotten a full recovery while the rest of the tea was in the hole. They followed him being discharged to the celebratory dinner and even followed him and Jeff to a bar for celebratory drinks. One of them managed to find his personal information, including his phone number, and all night he was inundated with requests for interviews and explanations. He turned his phone off but woke up in the middle of the night when his dimensional sight caught journalists in the lobby trying to bribe the bellhops for his room number.


    Against his better judgement, Ben clicked his watch clockwise the whole way, turning his sight off entirely. To hell with situational awareness, Ben was retired from the constantly looking over his shoulder lifestyle and was far too tired to care if some villain shot up the place. He had done enough. He was going to rest.


    It didn''t stop even the next morning. The games were cancelled, but the impromptu stadium had been cordoned off and the rest of the fair was ongoing. Ben went with everyone to the fair, and the journalists were waiting. It was like a shark feeding frenzy, trying to get every scrap of meat they could tear off their victims. Eventually, Ben had to play bait and declared to give a statement so he could lead the journalists away. He then turned to the journalists and tried to keep his village councilman vibe while chewing them out for making a very hard time that much harder. He kept his bickering up until the journos realized he wasn''t giving a statement and they left.


    It was Sunday at five in the afternoon, two hours before the fairgrounds closed for good, and Ben finally had a chance to join the festivities. The first place he went was food truck row and he got two handfuls of comfort food, including a deep-fried Oreo and deep-fried ice cream. As he chewed through his second corndog, he saw a giant woman wearing a wig and conspicuous clothing walk up the long entrance to the fair. He tracked her while mixing up the sour cream and scallions on a baked potato, and almost bit through his plastic fork when she went to security and asked if anyone had seen Ben.


    There were no words in the English language, curses, swears, or metaphors, to describe his anger, so he used an alien language swear that roughly translated to, "I would dishonor my ancestors to deliver you the smallest inconvenience," but where every word was an abusive epithet.


    Ben couldn''t continue to be a semi-clueless village councilman and convincingly avoid her, so he went with the human shield method and rejoined the team. The parents and kids were all playing carny games and having fun, which Ben casually joined and cheered as Gary and Garrett used BB guns to hit tiny airplane facsimiles. Garrett got the prize and he gave it to Katherine, who had asked for the prize in the first place.


    ''It was a macho match,'' Ben chuckled to himself.


    It wasn''t long after, when they were all trying to get plastic rings onto old milk bottles, that a guard radioed in where the team was playing games. Olympia got word of their location and started over to them inconspicuously, standing two feet above the rest of the crowd.


    She approached from behind and watched, waiting for a good moment to step in. Ben got a ring on the bottle, and everyone cheered, which was the perfect moment to walk up. When she got close, she reached a large hand out to touch his shoulder and surprise him, but he turned around pre-emptively and stared at her in shock.


    "Oh my god!" he faked. "What are you doing here?"


    She looked around nervously, "I''m trying to get out and have some fun. Keep it on the down low, though. I don''t want to draw attention."


    Ben pre-empted any surprise by going through the little crowd and relaying that information to everyone so they wouldn''t freak out.


    After that, everyone treated her like the weird aunt who never came out to functions, but came out to this one and now everyone has to interact with her. Ben kept up a casual conversation that everybody had one ear on while playing, and when it was his turn to do something, somebody had to swap with him to keep the convo going.


    Her presence derailed the whole party. Now everyone had to sacrifice their reckless fun so she could be a part of their controlled fun.


    At least they were lucky nobody noticed who she was. The last thing they needed was more journalists on the prowl. But Ben still saw people taking pictures from a distance, double checking Olympia''s disguise with her real photos. Only one of the onlookers was brave enough to ask for an autograph, and she was quiet about it, so it didn''t start a stampede.


    When the fairgrounds officially closed, the parents felt obligated to invite Olympia to dinner, and Ben ground his teeth at her response.


    "Oh, I''d love to, but I actually need to talk with your coach alone," she excused. "There''s some things that the Hero Association asked me to iron out in person."


    "Okay," Ben seemed confused by how the situation was panning out, "um, will it take long? I am getting a little hungry."


    "We can pick up food on the way," the heroine said. "I was dropped off, but I can drive if you''d rather ride beside me."


    Every cell in his body was self-immolating to tell Ben not to enter a vehicle alone with this woman.


    "I''ll drive," Ben offered. If he was going to be in a car with this bitch, he was damn sure going to be in control of driving it off the road.


    The team families waved goodbye, rumors of trouble or romance already spun on their lips. Ben waved them goodbye as he started a silent walk down the long fairground entrance. He unlocked the doors and slid into the driver''s seat while the van tottered as the giantess slipped in.


    "So," Ben announced, "what exactly did you need to talk to me about?"


    "I wanted to get to know more about you," Olympia said, squishing herself into the navigators seat. "So, where did you learn to handle a shotgun like that?"


    "My power, mostly," Ben said nervously, starting the car up and muting the radio. "Where do you want to eat?"


    "Your additional sight lets you handle firearms?"


    "I can see the inner workings of everything. I''m watching gasoline exploding in the engine right now."


    "Ahem, well, sorry if you saw anything... hrm, uncouth, while we were down in that tunnel."


    "It''s comes with the power," Ben sighed, pulling out of the fairground parking lot and down the long driveway. "Nobody gets to keep a secret from me."


    "So, about your body," Olympia derailed. "How did that happen?"


    "I was a kid when superhuman powers had no means of being identified unless they manifested. My dad had dreams of making it big as a scientist, and both he and my mom had powers, so he tested it on all of us. He made a cream that hardened when in touch with skin cells that had superhuman genome, and it was a success. He put it on his chest and pulled some hair out. He put it on mom''s face and smoothed her skin. I put it on my hands and had some weird gloves. But then it had to be tested to its limits.


    "Dad made as much of the stuff as he could and put it all in a bath tub, then covered me in it. Basically my entire body, except the hands, feet, and head. It was supposed to harden, then he would add another layer to see if it could be stacked after hardening. But when he was adding the second layer, it started burning. We hadn''t tested how long it could be applied, but leaving it on for longer than thirty minutes had it... dissolve the skin."


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    "The bath was full, so I was carried outside and blasted with the hose. I''ve lived with whole body burns ever since."


    The reason Ben had chosen this particular background to explain his full-body scarring was because this event actually happened. A man was actually developing a cream for superpower sensing, he tested it on his kid, and the kid had very similar scarring to Ben''s own. The child grew up rough and disappeared at age seventeen, just about the time that Ben appeared. There were a few differences that Ben had to account for, though.


    "I got bullied so much, I ran away from home and changed my name. I was homeless for two years, until I was rounded up with a bunch of other homeless for a university scholarship. I was the only one who passed, which wasn''t great for the program, but got me back enough to get a job. I decided I needed a new start, so I found this small town and fell in love. I changed my name so no one could ever find me, and I''ve been here ever since."


    Olympia was silent. As much as the comic books would say otherwise, not every hero in the association had some tragic back story. A lot of them were there for the money or the fame.


    "What about you?" Ben reflected the question.


    "Me, oh, I was a farm girl in Idaho when my dad got caught in a harvester and tore his arm up," she said like a bored PowerPoint presenter. "When I healed him, we had to register that I had a power, and the Association descended like bats. Healers are so rare, the boys in finance have to bend over backwards to pay us a salary. I signed on, made sure my family was taken care of, and started fighting bad guys."


    "What''s the reason you stayed? Couldn''t you have quit anytime?"


    "Yes and no," she twiddled her thumbs. "They were clever when they drew up my contract, they made sure that I wasn''t signing on with the association, I was signing on with the United States Government. Federal contracts have a different set of legislations and codes behind them than association contracts, including leaving out a break clause. Even with all my luxury and pay, I can''t terminate my contract."


    "Couldn''t a good lawyer do that?"


    "No lawyer in the world has the guts to go against the Hero Association."


    "Real shame," Ben stated as he drove mindlessly. "By the way, where are we going?"


    They decided on a Dairy Queen run. Ben got a chicken sandwich and Olympia got a bacon cheeseburger, both with flurries. Without asking, he started driving back to the hotel, aware that he had to pack up, check out, and be gone within the hour.


    "So, Ben," Olympia said, swallowing the second half of her burger, "are you gay?"


    Ben coughed up a chicken chunk and choked on it. He had been getting warm readings from her the whole night, but there was no change in heart rate or gland production that prepared him to be blindsided.


    "Ah, uh, no, not really," Ben hacked through his throat obstructions. "I can guess why you''re asking, but we don''t really have the time. I''m driving home with the kids in an hour."


    "An hour''s more than enough time," she bit her bottom lip and leaned over to Ben, tilting the van back his way.


    At this point, Ben was so far from turned on, he was fighting the urge to puke. This Amazonian woman was a cinderblock of muscle and scar tissue, and she was literally twice his weight. There was no functional position he could go at her without needing a stepstool or a surgical operation. The idea that she would do this around children was also sickening, and churned something inside his stomach. Her hair was too short to grab, and her torso was too long for his arms to reach. She would have to use him like a toy, and Ben was not a sub.


    On top of all that, this was Ymir''s sloppy seconds. Even after an eternity of time passed, he wasn''t going to play second fiddle to the blue abomination.


    ''Well, maybe if it was their wedding day and he was watching,'' Ben grinned with a vile malintent.


    The thought excited him, and with some legendarily bad timing, Olympia reached across the center console and grabbed his excitement.


    "OooOOooh!" she squealed happily. "I see I''m not the only one ready!"


    Ben''s options were rapidly dwindling. This mammothine woman seemed intent on getting through some personal time, with or without him. And the former Gentleman knew that she would just take what she could get, but that usually involved a lot of hush money and Hero Association promises afterwards. He wasn''t keen on signing any forms those pencil pushing cunt flaps put in his hand, but he had to play his cards right.


    He had to be weak city councilman Benjamin D. Hersh, the least satisfying human in bed. And he had to use his knowledge of Olympia''s personal fetishes to do it.


    "I''m sorry, but there really is no time," Ben apologized as a thick, meaty hand clumsily fondled his junk. "I''m leaving very soon."


    "Why don''t I... help you pack?" Olympia cooed in his ear.


    The shiver that ran down Ben''s spine was not from excitement.


    "I-" but he couldn''t get a word out before the heroine took the initiative


    Olympia leaned over for a kiss, but Ben turned his face at the last second and got a pair of lips on his nose. She tried again, but Ben pulled away.


    "I''m sorry," he nervously apologized. "This is all going so fast!"


    And then Ben paused, staring out the windshield dumbfounded.


    His vision had just encased the hotel, specifically his room on the fifth floor. Inside of the room were two people, a man and a woman, wearing plain suits and carrying hero association badges. They were trying to get into his luggage, which was locked with a space lace weave that was impossible for anyone on earth to crack, but the fact that they would go into his personal space was almost too disrespectful. On top of that, most of the parents were in the lobby with all their things, waiting for Ben to come back, but there was also a man in a suit with his phone at the ready, likely a watcher.


    "Could I ask you to do something for me?" Ben asked with a soft grin.


    "I hope it''s dirty," Olympia cooed.


    "I need to check out of my room in... two minutes," Ben explained, "but I need to get back in my room before we leave. Can you take my keycard and go up to my room... and wait for me? Room 514."


    Olympia smiled and winked, taking the keycard that Ben handed to her.


    Ben dropped the giant off at the front desk, watching the suspension strain back into place as he went to ''find a parking space''.


    What he actually did was find a parking space and watch the chaos unfold.


    Olympia walked into the lobby in her dress disguise, something the watcher noticed, but didn''t think to alert the people going through Ben''s room. She went up the stairs and got out into the hallway and made it all the way to the door.


    The agents panicked as the door lock clicked and the hinges swung open, revealing the agents going through Ben''s room. When they saw that it was Olympia and not their target, the agents freaked out even more.


    The heroine panicked as well, unaware that the agents were part of the Hero Association, she charged them.


    Ben laughed as hard as he could without letting anyone hear him. It was an instant beat down, until the second agent to get her face caved in had her badge out before passing out.


    Olympia finally saw the badge, and she looked at the two people she had just knocked unconscious. Now it was the giantess''s turn to freak out. She didn''t know what to do, expecting a gentleman suitor and having two agents from her own organization rooting through his things. Ben could see her try to fit them under the bed, but laughed when she realized he has dimensional sight and could see them.


    Unable to think of anything, the amazon resigned her fate and set the agents on the bed while taking a seat in a chair and waiting.


    Ben had to control himself before getting out of the van and going to checkout. When he entered the lobby, the plant quickly called upstairs to tell them that the target had entered the building. The phone rang in his room and Olympia dug it out of the suit pocket and answered it. She cussed out the other agent and threatened him with his own beating if he didn''t get up to the room and collect them.


    Ben got his paperwork and final checkout receipt for the hotel and hurried up to the room, racing up the stairs to get there before the agent could escape. He got to his floor and jogged to his room right as the agent left while fireman carrying two other agents.


    He wasn''t supposed to know what was going on, but Ben had to suppress a smile as he caught the scornful expression of the last agent standing.


    "What?" he asked Olympia, looking around at his room mid-searched.


    "I''m sorry," Olympia sniffled, fighting back real tears. "This is my fault."


    "You went through my stuff?"


    "No, it''s just," the big gal sighed heavily, "I''m such a good asset to the association, they follow me around."


    "So those guys were...?"


    "Hero association agents who watch my back. They were going through your stuff to make sure you weren''t a threat."


    "Oh," Ben said, acting super uncomfortable. "That''s... that''s...."


    "It''s not okay," Olympia cut to the chase, getting up and crossing the room to Ben. Instead of trying anything romantic, she just stepped past him saying, "I''ll see you on the way out."


    "Oh," Ben said as she shut the door behind her, closing him into the room. She remained outside while he picked his stuff up and headed out, meeting her in the hallway where she handed his room card back. They silently made their way to the stairs and got to the first floor without saying a word.


    "Everyone ready to go?" Ben asked as he finally got to the lobby.


    Everyone seemed incredibly impatient, waiting in the lobby, until Olympia walked up behind Ben and nervously waved for his attention.


    "Sorry," she said, in a very heartfelt tone, "for everything."


    And just like that, she grabs Ben by the head and pulls him in for a passionate kiss, full lips and a tiny bit of tongue creeping through. She let go and Ben stumbled back a bit as Gary whooed the scene in front of the whole team and their parents. Ben''s heart seized, but he couldn''t look without making the situation worse.


    Ben then had to face TWO HOURS of the kids in the van pestering him for every sickening detail of the explosive love life he now had. He even got a call from Hannah that he sent straight to voicemail. He dropped the kids off at school where their parents picked them up and then he went immediately home.


    Ben was pulling into his own driveway with the smooth suspension of his truck softening the blow when he got the message he had been dreading.


    In the hotel lobby was a front desk clerk who had an Olympia-themed laptop in her employee locker. She had noticed something when the eight foot tall muscle woman entered the hotel, and quickly looked up images of her favorite hero to compare. When Olympia came back down, she had secretly taken pictures of the huge woman in a dress, and even got a clean photo of her passionately kissing Ben.


    Ben had crossed his fingers that she would just masturbate over the photo, but she had put it on social media with Olympia tags, spreading it like a virus.


    Now, Ben''s surprised face touching lips with the foremost healer hero of the world was international news. On top of his photo after their rescue...


    This would definitely come up at work tomorrow.

 Chapter 32 - Trouble in Paradise

    Ben was exhausted, and it was only Tuesday.


    Monday was a waking nightmare for a villain in hiding as he was hounded at all hours of the day and night by the most vile, putrid careerists known to god and man: journalists. People had already dug up his entire fake backstory and gone over it with a fine-toothed comb looking for something to clickbait about. He lived in constant fear that someone would start to pick apart the facade he''d created.


    It was even worse that the coordinated assault on the nation''s young heroes by a hereto unheard-of villain organization was second page news to the antics of the healer hero Olympia and her new boy toy.


    It was a testament to his excellent thoroughness and superb planning for nobody to realize he wasn''t Benjamin D. Hersh. But there were always cracks in the armor, and Ben had to regularly remind himself he wasn''t perfect and prepare a contingency.


    But until some shadowy organization showed up at his door and demanded answers, he was going to continue on as bemired village councilman caught up in an unfortunate situation.


    But that was becoming just as exhausting as being a supervillain used to be. His phone was piling up missed calls like the hospital during a mass casualty incident. Even at work, his computer was nearly bricked by an influx of emails, chat requests, and hackers trying to steal his personal information. The most aggravating part was letting this go unpunished because a small-time city councilman is not supposed to know how to counter-hack or pull out someone''s eyes through their ears.


    Driving up to work on Tuesday after getting plenty of sleep and feeling just as tired, he saw a crowd in front of the municipal building that was normally empty at eight in the morning. He could see the various recording devices these people carried and knew that he wasn''t going to have any peace today.


    The most difficult thing was that, in playing his role, he knew exactly what his Benjamin persona would do, but it would seriously damage his future run for mayor.


    With a heavy heart, Ben pulled out his phone in the parking lot and pressed on the current mayor''s contact info for a call.


    "H-hello?" came a weary, just-woke-up voice.


    "Mister Mayor, this is Ben," he said with breathy exasperation. "There''s a crowd in front of the municipal building and I think they''re here for me.... I''m sorry, I can'' t do this anymore.... I need to cash in all my sick days and vacation days until this whole thing blows over."


    "That''s no problem," said Mayor Wilkinson. "Take off as many days as you need. We''ll do paperwork our side. Oh, and if you need another week or so, I''ll be sure to loan you the days."


    Ahh, the small-time corruption of small-time government.


    Ben figured the least he could do was announce his departure, so he got out of his car and approached the crowd.


    "Everyone, my name is Ben, I''m the guy who you''re all here for. I just wanted you to know, I''m leaving and I''m not coming back. That is all."


    When he turned to leave, a woman dressed in a suit tailored to accentuate her chest and rear sauntered up to him with a card palmed in her hand. She looked like the word ''bureaucrat'' had materialized in front of him with her perfectly straight suit, hair, shoes, glasses, face, and personality.


    Sam was about to turn her down in the most country way possible (threat of violence by gun), until he actually read the business card in her hand.


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    "Melissa Tannenburg," he said aloud, some horror in his voice. "Recruiting agent for the Hero Department."


    "I see my reputation has preceded me," the woman offered the card with her contact information.


    "You should already know what my power is," he accused while backing away slowly, not wanting to get into anything while photojournalists were around. "I just read your name on the card."


    "Quite," she huffed, looking back at the mob Ben was inching away from. "Care to do this somewhere else."


    "I don''t want anything to do with the Hero Department," he said with hands up. "I''m not the hero type."


    "I''m aware; that''s not why I''m here. Have you thought of working for us in an official capacity? A desk job, maybe?"


    "I''m afraid I have no blue-collar skills to speak of, besides maybe leadership."


    "Managerial staff it is," she declared. "I''ll start your paperwork once I get back to the office. You can start on Wednesday."


    "I must decline. I quite enjoy the work I do here, and I''m not going to give it up. Goodbye."


    Before the recruiter could throw out any of the classic buzzwords: making a difference, furthering the cause of justice, or being a hero for heroes'' line; Ben turned and left. The reporters behind her snapped a few photos and were already sending messages to headquarters that Ben had just turned down superhero work.


    When he''d gotten home, he found Idet watching some soap opera and joined her on the couch. When he had gotten relaxed, he reached down to his watch and clicked it counterclockwise a few times. He let it sit, enjoying the few miles of nature documentary he was getting an upfront view of. When he was comfortable at that range, he clicked it a few more times in the same direction, expanding his view to the nearby city and even to the next farming town out in the boonies.


    He did this a few more times until he could see the entirety of the state into the nearby four. His vision was so broad, it was almost debilitating, but Ben relaxed his body and let the sensation twist him every which way. He tracked the woman he had just turned down back to her car as it was speeding along the highway and she was having a fit behind the wheel.


    "TURN ME DOWN?!" she screamed to the empty passenger seat as she passed someone in the right lane. "ME!? I''ll show him! I''ll put him under so much paperwork that he''ll come crawling to me just to be a janitor!"


    Ben tracked her to a hotel just outside of the airport where she got onto a laptop and started hammering out an email. It was vague, but the former villain saw some very concerning language about making him easier to access and convincing him through circumstance. The subtext was hard to miss. He would have tracked the email to its destination, but expanding his vision any further took some preparation and Tylenol.


    The recruiter flopped on her hotel mattress and scrolled through social media on her phone.


    Ben quickly turned his attention back to the village and saw that the kids were in school, their parents were at work or at home, and the crowd of journalists had dispersed. He saw Hannah asking around until the Mayor came in as late as usual and informed everyone that Ben had taken days off so as not to disturb regular work. The bastard hinted that it was his gracious idea, making the former villain grind his teeth in frustration. Hannah seemed concerned and sent a text, which Ben couldn''t respond to because he was busy watching her send the text.


    In the reaches of his perception, he saw motion in the recruiter''s hotel bedroom and flicked back to see she had stripped down to a lacy pair of underwear, which he imagined she was trying to use against him. She went over to her work laptop as a reply to her email popped up in a small chat window.


    ''We''re on it.''


    This made Ben chuckle. In his experience, the Hero Department was one of the least efficient government organizations known to man, even compared to the Department of Education, which hadn''t improved education in a single meaningful metric since its inception.


    Satisfied, Ben turned his power down and started brainstorming. He had been saving up all his vacation and sick days to use for his run as mayor, but that had just been axed. To make up the time he''s losing, he''d have to do something more autonomous, while also making it seem plausible for his persona to achieve.


    "Idet, what''s our budget for this month like?" he asked the glowing ball.


    "Without gas expenditures going to and from work, we''ll have one-hundred thirteen dollars and twenty-six cents spare," said the synthesized voice.


    "Put it all into beginner textbooks about hobbyist drone creation and operation. Find the books free online and order any recommended parts if it''s within the budget to do so."


    "Can I ask why?"


    "Since I can''t physically be more present for my run as mayor, I figure I can be there mechanically. In your research, do some math to figure out how much it would cost to get drones to light my name up in the sky."

 Chapter 33 - Bureaucracy to the Rescue

    Ben woke with a start Wednesday morning as his phone rang with the sound of jingling bells, his ringtone for the mayor. Confusion passed over him before a deep dread settled into his stomach.


    Vacation days were sacred to the bloated gasbag mayor, so getting a call was not good news.


    "Yellow," Ben said in his midwestern accent.


    "Ben, good," Wilkinson fumbled over his words. "Listen, I hate to call you, but you were just penned for a court date this Friday. The National Parks Service is doing an investigation into your insistence against their parks in the village. They suggested you prepare any land ownership documents you may have before the court date."


    Ben sat up with real panic. He had been kissing ass like a fetishist for the past year and four months just to keep any parks under local jurisdiction, including making several friends in and around the nearest National Parks Service state headquarters. It was part of his mayor bid to run the tagline ''Keep Lincoln Local''.


    But this wasn''t the National Parks he knew. Gary was the head honcho for the city-level and he would have just called Ben if something happened. If they were skipping the foreplay and going straight to the hard stuff, this wasn''t coming from the people he''d been arguing against. This was coming from over their heads, which meant Washington.


    On top of that, nobody sets a court date for two days in the future without serious consequences. It was basically asking to be appealed.


    And the only enemies he''d made in Washington were-


    "Tannenburg, that bitch!" he said into the phone.


    "-What?" Wilkinson asked.


    "Yesterday, with the journalists, there was a hero Department recruiter named Melissa Tannenburg," Ben quickly explained. "I turned her down, but she threatened to bring the full weight of the Hero Department down on me."


    "Why would she do that?"


    "I''m guessing the same reason the journalists are in front of my house," Ben groaned as his dimensional sight caught some intrepid young upstart stepped onto his lawn and up to his front door. "The Hero Department wants me under contract so I don''t embarrass them with any interviews."


    "But this is from the National Parks?" Wilkinson puzzled, and Ben remembered he was talking to an idiot.


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    "I''m sure they just want to capitalize on all this media attention I''m getting. Tell them I''ll be there. What time?"


    Ben squared away the date, then hung up the phone and yelled into the ceiling with righteous fury. He went to his side drawer where a Makarov and a loaded magazine sat. He loaded the gun and chambered a round, keeping a tight grip while he went to the front door. While standing in front of the entrance, he flipped a switch near the door that spooled up a gigantic microwave under the front yard. The microwaves were all contained in a simple faraday cage, but on top of that was a de-ionizing field which would turn the radiation into an electrical pulse at a set timer.


    The young man jumped when the Ben finally opened the door, but smiled and prepared his introduction.


    The homeowner lifted the Makarov and pointed it at the journalists face, then aimed it slightly away and fired. The bullet ripped through the air right in front of this kid''s face, freezing him on the spot and causing all the other people to activate their recording devices, until a large pulse of electromagnetic energy blew the electronics apart like fireworks.


    "There are precisely two things I want everyone here to understand: Number one, this is a ''castle doctrine'' state and the entirety of this sub-division is privately owned. For those of you who are new, this means that I have the full legal right to shoot every single one of you for the disturbance I was caused and I could then sue on top of it all. Even the street is officially dubbed private property, so if you want to camp out and wait for me to leave my house, you''re going to have to wait on the public access road. If anyone decides they''re brave enough for an interview, I call the cops to come collect you all in the morning.


    "Secondly and lastly, I want all of your press credentials, because I am going to make your lives a living hell so that you pass along to your journalist buddies to LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE."


    Ben then went around with his gun and his phone, collecting every bit of evidence he could, including the information in these people''s wallets. They were all as amicable as sheep, but that was only because they believed their recording equipment still worked and they could attack Ben in the court of public opinion. Once he''d collected all their information, they then started to complain that their cars wouldn''t start, so Ben called the sheriff.


    "You know those journalists who''ve been making the municipal buildings such a nightmare the last few days? Well, they showed up at my house and now they''re complaining that their equipment is broken and won''t leave. It''s funny because it they were all working a SECOND AGO!"


    Ben then felt pure schadenfreude as the sheriff showed up and issued tickets and had to personally call all of them tow trucks at an enormous mark-up. This whole process took over an hour, during which Ben served some snacks and coffee to the officers and tow truckers. He thanked the sheriff and promised some special consideration for the vote for their monthly budget.


    Going back into his house, the former supervillain set his phone down on the kitchen island and said, "Idet, ruin these people''s lives. Be creative with it, really set your emotional spirit free."


    "Would you like me to destroy this Melissa Tannenburg as well?"


    "No," Ben said, pouring some coffee for himself and sipping it with a great, big smile. "I want to do that myself."

 Chapter - 34 Dont Mess Around With Jim

    Ben stepped out into the open air in front of the courthouse like a free man. He had just been through a sauna of tedious busywork courtesy of the world''s largest bitch, burning through a very precious Friday morning. The entire court appearance had no standing and was uncomfortable for all involved, mostly because Ben made it an absolute nightmare by extending it beyond the lengths it was supposed to go. The court appearance was for a single hour slot during a very busy workday, but Ben managed to fill up that whole hour with tedious bullshit and side-arguments so that nothing was resolved by the end. Even worse, Ben had kept all of his receipts, including emails and texts, detailing every final decision that was made.


    The investigation into his holdings was a pretense because he''d used shell companies to buy the land he was planning to massively increase in price. His name was only on his specific house deed.


    But what should have been an open and shut case became a long-drawn out battle of litigations as Ben dragged the National Parks Service lawyers through a briar patch, and then through a lemon orchard. He made it absolutely clear that they had no evidence to support their claims, nor did they have enough for an investigation. The entire thing was faulty and should be thrown out, but Ben made absolutely clear that if this court case wasn''t the final nail in the coffin for this avenue of attack, he was within his full legal rights to sue the city, state, and even federal offices of the Park service until their coffers were empty.


    Once he was free, Ben allowed himself a quick breather and a snack before he had to deal with the biggest pinata of them all.


    Sitting on a stone bench outside the courthouse with a smug look of self-satisfaction so infuriating, anyone passing by was within their human right to forcibly remove it; was Melissa Tannenburg. She wore the same high profile suit, partly because it was the only one she packed, and had her hair done up for the occasion of finally crushing Ben''s hopes of escaping the Hero Department. She also had two personal security next to her, as she imagined that Ben could try to get physical during their altercation.


    Ben stepped outside and inhaled deeply, then walked down the steps like a champion. Part of this was to grab attention so that Melissa wouldn''t miss him, the other was genuine joy at what was about to happen.


    The recruiter saw him on the steps and got up, alerting her bodyguards to follow. She walked with purpose, overextending her legs to intercept the city councilman as naturally as possible.


    "Mister Hersh," she called out once they were close enough to hear. "Fancy meeting you here."


    "Quite," Ben clapped back with a grin.


    "Have you reconsidered my proposal working for the Hero Department?" she asked politely. "It grants certain immunities for legal action, so long as internal investigations come back clean."


    That was an outright admittance that she was involved. She wouldn''t have known about Ben being under investigation by the National Parks Service if she hadn''t had a hand in orchestrating it.


    "Quite the opposite," Ben smiled very plainly. "You see, I cross my ''t''s and dot my ''i''s whenever I''m doing business, so these investigations are on grounds so flimsy that I''m now in a position to counter-sue."


    "Hah, silly," the recruiter faked a laugh as her anti-perspirant activated. "You can''t sue the federal government."


    "I don''t intend to sue the federal government," Ben said. "There was a very clear line of communication up the chain of command. Funny how bureaucracies work, always passing blame to the next person. It''s disgusting behavior, really, but it paints a very clear picture when someone''s chasing a vendetta. I can sue director of the National Parks Service here in the city, as well as his litigation team in Washington, and the National Archives who dug up information on me at the behest of an email which originated in the offices of- care to guess?"


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    Melissa''s mask of makeup and lies cracked when she sneered, "You''re quite thorough."


    "I have to be," Ben said. "I''m in small town politics, after all. And thanks to you, I can now sue for somewhere in the realm of thirty million dollars, although settling out of court usually cuts that number by a bit. So, I never have to work again, in the Hero Department, or anywhere else."


    Melissa smirked, "That''s quite a bluff. But I''m afraid you wouldn''t have the time. There are more law offices in Washington who love to tear apart little upstarts like you than there are hours in the day. I hope you don''t like sleep, because you''re not going to be getting a lot of it for the next few years."


    "Funny you mention those offices in Washington, because I just so happened to contact a few myself. See, this all made me wonder if I was just special, so I asked around. Apparently, your aggressive business practices have been hammering at people for decades, and I happened to get in touch with a few. Quite a lot of them actually. Maybe try not to blackmail your entire staff next time and they wouldn''t put together a class action lawsuit against the Hero Department''s Recruiting Offices. And the one thing those law offices in Washington love more than ganging up on the little guy is the payday that comes from a few hundred thousand people chipping in their life savings to get one over on the bastards who ruined their lives."


    Melissa snarked, "You''re bluffing."


    As if ordained by the universe, Melissa''s phone started to buzz.


    "You may want to answer that," Ben offered.


    Melissa picked up her phone and saw it was a call from her boss. She answered and listened quietly as she got the soft spoken jargon of ''restructuring'' and ''downsizing'' with a promise to meet in person to discuss details. She didn''t say a word the entire phone call, but it ended and she put her phone back in her pocket.


    "Sounded rough," Ben said. "It must feel so strange being on the other side of this, for once."


    "This isn''t over," Melissa declared, aggressively approaching Ben and jamming a finger into his chest. "Even if it''s not me, someone else is going to try again. I was the nice one. Get ready for the big guns, because they''ll be coming."


    "If you''re talking about big guns," Ben gently pushed the dagger-like finger away, "I have one, too."


    "Oh?"


    "I called your mother."


    The recruiter snorted in Ben''s face, until the city councilman cupped his hands around his mouth, turned to his left and yelled, "OLYMPIA! OVER HERE!"


    Melissa''s heart sank as she turned to see the top brass of the Hero Department''s A-team dressed in full spandex armor walking towards her. She was like a titan, standing 7''9" and filling her suit out with tensed muscle.


    "Did you forget why the Hero Department wanted me in the first place?" Ben snarked smartly. "We exchanged contact information during the fair, and I sent her a few messages about the whole situation. But don''t worry, I made sure to mention you by name in every. single. one."


    The heroine trudged up to the harlot who was getting too close to her man and stepped between them like a protective mother bear.


    "So, you''re the one causing all this trouble," the giantess spat, Ben leaning past her to see the expression on Melissa''s face. "Turn around and walk away. This doesn''t concern you."


    In front the massive heroine, the bodyguards looked like toys. They couldn''t even compare. The recruiter did as she was told, did an ''about-face'' and left.


    While she was walking away, she heard, "Bye-bye!"


    Ben was leaning out from behind Olympia with a cruel, twisted smile that sent a shiver down Melissa''s spine. The councilman watched her go as Olympia turned to him and apologized meekly.


    ''And now,'' Ben thought with his twisted imagination, ''the final nail in the coffin.''


    "I''ll make sure that the Hero Department stops chasing you," the giantess offered with a gentle pat on Ben''s head.


    "Oh, it''s nothing," Ben returned the pleasantries. "I was just concerned about how far they were really willing to go."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Well, my power can see through clothes, you know? And the recruiter over there must have known that, so she was wearing some really sexy, revealing underwear. It was super uncomfortable talking with her in public."


    Olympia zoned out for a moment as she remembered that ''seduction'' was also a useful recruiting technique.


    "I''ll handle it," Olympia smile softly.


    And there went the final nail in the coffin.

 Chapter 34.5 - The Gentlemans Blacklist

    Sitting in a room usually reserved for interrogations, Matthew Gates was sipping on some coffee while waiting for whoever called the emergency executive meeting in such a dreary place. The walls were gun metal grey and the floor was plain, flat cement with deep screws driven in to anchor the stainless-steel table and chairs. It was wildly uncomfortable, causing the Director of the Hero Department''s Recruiting Offices to wonder what exactly he was supposed to be learning in such a dismal environment.


    A knock at the door alerted him to right himself as two men wearing identical pin-striped suits entered the room, both wearing sunglasses despite the dank lighting. They had identical haircuts, cleanly shaven faces, and could have passed for twins if one of them wasn''t a full head taller than the other.


    "Director Gates," said the smaller of the two men, placing a file on the steel table just out of the Director''s reach, "I''m sorry to have this meeting, but we need to go over your protocol."


    "I don''t handle protocol," Matthew said, "I have a team for that. What is this actually about? And who even are you two?"


    "I''m Jake Hyder from the Hidden Villains initiative," said the smaller man, taking a seat. "My partner is Alexander Meshnik. It is our job to find villains who have hung up their cloak and daggers and decide what to do with them. As for this meeting, to put it bluntly, your team fucked up, and now you need to fix it as acting Director."


    "I''ve never heard of the Hidden Villains initiative."


    "Good," said the taller man who stood in the corner where it was darkest. "We''re a secret, even within the Hero Department."


    "You can think of us the people who find and take care of bad people who went into hiding."


    "That doesn''t sound like an organization that needs to be secret."


    "When you''re going after villains from the shadows, everything needs to be secret. But we''re not the reason for this meeting."


    Jake opened the file in front of him and produced a profile picture of a very boring looking man in his early twenties wearing a suit and awkwardly smiling at the camera.


    "This man is Benjamin Daniel Hersh, are you familiar with him?" Jake asked, flicking the photo across the table.


    Matthew inspected the photograph for a few moments, then said, "This is the guy we got orders to recruit? You''re saying he''s a former supervillain? At twenty-five?"


    "He''s currently a suspect," said Jake, taking out another picture and flicking it at the Director.


    It depicted a man wearing a full tuxedo with tails and a top hat, covering his face with an iconic comedy mask.


    "You''re telling me the man we almost hired was ''The Gentleman''? THE Gentleman?"


    "One of thirty suspects that we''ve narrowed down," Jake answered honestly. "We have a smaller division within our division devoted solely to the identification and location of the true Gentleman, and they have had a hell of a time just narrowing it down to the thirty possible suspects."


    "I''m guessing you want all the information we''ve dug up about this Benjamin Hersh character."


    "No," Alexander flatly refused. "Nothing you could have found is something we don''t already know."


    "According to official Hero Department policy," Jake continued, "there is a blacklist for recruiting. According to my records, all of our Gentleman suspects are on that blacklist, including Benjamin Hersh. Why did your office pursue him despite being on the list?"


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    "That list is changed regularly, and with several errors per change, it''s become less and less of a factor for our hiring," the Director explained nervously. "The list is also supposed to be reserved for felons, domestic abusers, people on the sex offender registry, and other unsavory characters."


    The Director of Recruiting held up the dopy picture of Ben and said, "This man came back clean, if I''m not mistaken."


    "Then it was a misunderstanding," Jake said. "Except that you almost got your entire recruiting office, and perhaps the entire Hero Department, wiped from the face of this earth."


    The director frowned, then scowled as he compared the imposing picture of the Gentleman with the goofy nobody''s profile picture.


    "It''s been a while since I''ve seen this man, but wasn''t the Gentleman supposed to be a B-class villain? Has he upgraded his arsenal since then? Is he preparing for something?"


    Jake turned to his shadowy partner in the corner, who nodded and removed his glasses. A black smoke poured from empty eye sockets and dripped across the floor, then crawled of its own volition up the walls and across the ceiling. The room was suddenly encased in an inky darkness with a single dangling light bulb overhead, horrifying the Director as he tried to imagine what nefarious actions these two men were about to commit.


    "Remain calm, Director," Jake said, "my associate here has the power to block out senses with his smoke. This is just a preventative measure, because what I''m about to tell you is classified so high above Top Secret that you were put on a list before this conversation began that will kill you if you try to tell anyone."


    The Director shut his mouth and gripped his chair, the smoke draped across the floor making him feel vertigo above the abyss. Jake opened the file and spread some paper across the desk as reading material.


    "Four years ago, a strange object entered earth''s atmosphere and landed just outside Athens, Greece. Responding heroes found the object and described it as a chariot that radiated with the power of the sun. They tracked footsteps away from the chariot and found a twelve-foot-tall man wearing traditional Greek dress with sandals and a metal cap which bore living wings. The man, despite being much stronger and more powerful than the heroes, pleaded with them to keep it a secret that he had returned to earth.


    "The man identified himself as Hermes, the God of messengers from the Olympic Pantheon. The chariot was the sun chariot from his brother Apollo, who let him borrow it as it was faster than his feet could carry him. He was on earth to retrieve some golden apple seeds as the gods had run out of ambrosia and going without it was difficult. The heroes asked many questions, all of which Hermes answered in exchange for a promise of secrecy.


    "All the gods of antiquity were real, but they had fled to avoid being caught up in conflict with humans. The reason they wished to avoid conflict was not because of humans themselves, or the heroes we''d proffered, but because one single human who had managed to defy fate. Fate was described as the way the world was supposed to go. Winners always win, losers always lose, with free will creating some variance in the details. When asked why the gods cared, Hermes declared that neither the gods, nor the titans above them, nor the primordials above them, nor the empyreans above them had the power to defy fate. Fate is not so ephemeral a thing that it can be broken by those bound by it, which included all beings in the universe and the universe itself. The heroes asked who, what, where, and how fate was broken."


    Jake pushed the document over to Director Gates as he said, "When the one called The Gentleman killed the one called Ymir, one year ago. As to where -- Hermes didn''t want to know. As to how-- if Hermes did know, he would not be something so trifling as a god. He was released shortly after, and the gods have never been seen again on this earth."


    "So, the Gentleman can break fate? Is that what you''re saying?"


    "According to Hermes, yes."


    "So what?" the Director asked. "Who cares if he can break fate? Doesn''t that just branch the multiverse, or something?"


    "Fate means that there is no multiverse," Alexander interjected, the smoke still pouring from his face in a nightmarish display of power. "Going back in time changes nothing, the same with going forward in time. All things are as they should be, always. It also means that if someone is fated to live or die, there is nothing that can be done to change it. They will die, or they won''t. Even gods cannot kill what fate has deemed alive. An order followed by all things."


    "It means The Gentleman''s abilities are on par with the entire universe across all time, all at once," Jake said. "Do you really want to go making an enemy of that person?"


    The Director considered the implications, then a very important question imbedded itself in the annuls of his mind.


    "Have you told Olympia this?"


    Jake and Alexander exchanged a look, "We''ve considered it. But her relationship with Ymir and the Gentleman, it''s unknown how she would react. If the situation becomes explosive, we''ll intervene. But until then, we''ll leave it up to fate."

 Chapter 35 - Hard Times Create Strong Men

    Ben closed the garage door behind his truck bed, went from his vehicle into his house, gently closed the door behind him, then screamed at the wall for twenty solid seconds. This had become a ritual since last Sunday when his entire carefully crafted world in the village was suddenly upended by the fucking mole people. This Friday was particularly brutal on account of a date he had promised Olympia just to get back at the Hero Department, but also to break off any lingering attachments.


    They went to a movie, some mini-golf, and a dinner. When they were interrupted by fans for the third time at dinner, Ben acted like a pent-up bitch and left, sitting in the car pouting. He made sure to wuss out in the heroine''s presence and whine about how difficult it was to constantly be bugged by third parties. He even dropped hints that he was getting paranoia from the agents in his hotel room and the recruiter who manipulated government against him.


    Despite his sheer disgust for Olympia and her ilk, he mixed some real distress and depression in there. After all, that was his first real date, and Olympia was his first kiss as Benjamin Hersh.


    Ben broke things up on bad terms and made Olympia promise to never see him again.


    But now he was at home, in his sanctuary, the place with a soothing atmosphere and warp shield defense. He could forget about all those noisy things and just relax. Plus, with practices being out, there wasn''t a game this weekend. He had the whole weekend to himself.


    Vrt.


    Just as he had released the tension across his body, Ben''s phone vibrated with a notification. He didn''t need to take it out to see it was a text from Hannah that she was coming over. Not a request to come over, but a statement of fact that she was entering his house.


    The former supervillain had a feeling this was coming. He wasn''t the best with emotions, but he could see that Hannah was agitated by the Olympia situation. Whether she would bring it up or not was another thing.


    Still, if his time as an international fugitive had taught him anything, it was best to nip things in the bud as quickly and amicably as possible.


    Ben got up, restoring some of the tension in his muscles as he picked the milk out of the fridge and made some hot chocolate. He had it in the microwave when the doorbell rang. Hannah was standing on the porch in a dress with arms crossed and hair done up like a doll. She was clearly ready for a night out, but it was already after ten at night and she was at Ben''s house.


    The village councilman opened the door and was physically pushed aside as the smaller woman charged into his house like she owned the place. Without asking, she marched right over to his kitchen and opened the microwave, taking out the hot chocolate and drinking it.


    "Was that some kind of power play?" Ben chuckled, picturing Hannah as a Pomeranian trying to establish dominance.


    "I want one," she declared, loudly slurping the lukewarm chocolate milk.


    "One what?"


    "A kiss.... Olympia got two, I want one."


    "...That''s not... that''s what you''re mad about?"


    Hannah clunked her drink on the countertop and marched up to Ben, angrily poking him in the chest saying, "That bitch was kissing you like I didn''t have dibs on your virginity."


    "Yo- Wh- Hi- I''M NOT A VIRGIN."


    "Oh please," Hannah rolled her eyes. "I know you''re not such a pushover that you''d just be caught off-guard, so you LET HER kiss you. Even though WE''RE a thing."


    "Wha-? We''re not a ''thing'', though?"


    "We''re not a ''boyfriend-girlfriend'' thing," Hannah stammered, getting nervous as she revealed her thoughts about their situationship, "but we''re still a thing. You''re my future boyfriend. In the future, when I''m steadier. And not counting on you for so much. We''re still something."


    "Hannah, that''s not a-"


    "But she just goes and kisses you?! Like you''re not already spoken for? And you let her? Are you trying to cheat on what we''ll eventually have?"


    Ben had nothing to say. He felt like a baseball player up to bat who had just been pitched a football with a fish taped to it.


    "And, AND!" Hannah continued. "You went out on a date with her again today!"


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    "H-how did you know that?" Ben asked, wondering if Hannah had gone full-blown stalker.


    "You added it to your calendar. Everyone at work saw it."


    Ben tried to think back, then quickly pulled his phone out and worked his way into the calendar app. He opened it up and saw the few things that he''d added for his Benjamin Hersh persona to remember, but didn''t see any office notifications. The two calendars were completely separate.


    Then he saw it, in the top right corner, two arrows in a circle. He clicked the icon and saw that the Calendar app was synced with his Microsoft Office profile.


    "It really is the little things that get you," Ben said to himself. "Look, I was using her to get rid of a bigger annoyance. She means nothing to me- why am I defending myself? We are not a thing! And until we become a thing, it''s none of your business who or what I go and do!"


    "It WILL become my business! And I''m going to make you pay for it all. But I deserve a kiss, right now. And I''m not leaving until I get one."


    It was cute that she thought she could force anything out of Ben. As if he couldn''t have her teleported to anywhere the solar system at the snap of a finger. She was very nervous making all these declarations, and it seemed no small feat of courage to declare all these things so openly. Her angry expression hid a fearful one, that she was overstepping their boundaries and might lose him. But the fear of losing him to inaction was far worse, and forced her to come over and stake her claim.


    Ben could see her train of thought and considered her. He did eventually want to marry someone and have kids, living the whole small-town life. He would obviously tell his wife his secret, and maybe their kids. Honestly, when he''d first arrived at town, he''d made a list of potential wife candidates, but Hannah wasn''t on it because she was underage at the time.


    ''I should have considered there might be an age difference,'' he thought, then realized he was considering pedophilia and crushed that notion completely.


    ''Wait, how old is Katherine?'' he thought before putting that thought in a cannon and firing it into a black hole.


    "Sir," Idet interjected his thoughts, "there are two alerts I think you should see."


    "Idet, what do you have to say about this situation?" Ben deflected so he could think a little more.


    "It''s very interesting," she admitted, as if she was watching her favorite soap opera.


    "Come on, then," Hannah challenged, her heart racing as she risked her entire relationship with Ben to move things along. "You owe me a kiss."


    Ben didn''t owe her anything. In fact, all outstanding debts were hers to pay him back.


    However, if he were to have a wife, his ideal woman would be one who would push back at him. Someone willing to call him out, just like Hannah was trying to do now.


    Ben looked at Hannah and narrowed his eyes, making her heart flutter in confusion at what the expression could mean. He looked over, then walked over to the kitchen island and grabbed the hot chocolate. He drank a little, then slid around the island and put it back into the microwave to be heated up.


    Ben then turned on his ''suave charm'' to maximum. He tilted his head just right so his eye contact was suggestive. He then slid around the island and approached Hannah with long, commanding steps. She shuffled as he came up to her with intent, then placed the knuckle of his index finger under her chin to guide her face to his.


    "Two kisses, a half-second each," he said while staring like a hungry predator at his prey. "I''ll give you one, for six seconds."


    "Ok," Hannah whimpered, her eyes wide as her entire body melted under the heat of Ben''s strict tone. She had come demanding a kiss, but was honestly willing to accept any advancement in their relationship. She didn''t actually believe she would be kissed tonight, and reality was catching up to her dreams.


    Ben leaned down a little, but forced Hannah to meet him the rest of the way by lifting her head a little more. She had to get onto the tips of her toes, which she did without thinking.


    Just to be extra about it, he closed the distance a little faster than anticipated and gently nibbled her bottom lip, eliciting a groan which he silenced with his lips.


    Six seconds felt like an eternity as Hannah''s mind melted. She could taste him despite neither of their mouths being open. She felt her entire body sing to her to take things further, but her body was in shock and couldn''t move. She was still as she was kissed with passion. Ben was in complete control as he held her chin, pushing her further but pushing her chin down to open her mouth while opening his own. Even though nothing passed between their open mouths, the sensation of soft flesh pressed light but firm was riding a high that made their heads swim.


    Ben held the kiss for a full seven seconds, just to see if Hannah was actually counting. When he broke off, he saw that his assistant was in a daze, unable to comprehend anything.


    Now seemed like a good time while she was distracted, "Idet, what were you trying to tell me."


    "Two events have happened that I think you should be aware of," the glowing ball said, watching intently from the side.


    "Give''em to me based on which one''s a bigger pain in the ass to deal with."


    "The first one is that some realtor''s were asking around about buying one of the properties in this sub-division. They were vague about their client, but they''re tied to the Hero Department."


    Ben figured it must have been Olympia trying to creep on him with federal funds, but it must have been something orchestrated before their promise. The ball was in her court to cancel the realty purchase.


    "Stall them without denying anything," Ben ordered. "If they try to push through, deny them anyway."


    "Very well. The second thing is that the children from the Lincoln High School Hero team have been kidnapped."


    Ben''s oxytocin receptors were still firing from the kiss, so the information sat on his lust addled brain for ten precious seconds. When he finally managed to internalize what was just said, Ben''s happy hormones did a crisp military about-face turn into stress hormones. The reaction was so guttural, he actually growled a little in the back of his throat.


    The foreknowledge that this was going to be an astronomical pain in his ass constricted his throat as he viciously growled, "Every damn weekend!"


    Ben seethed and seethed, breathing spittle through clenched teeth as he begrudgingly accepted the parasitic nuisance this coaching gig had become.


    "WHERE?"

 Chapter 36 - Ultimatum Shmultimatum

    Hannah parked her clunker outside of the only bar in town, getting out and checking the parking lot to see Ben''s truck was actually parked in the back. When she''d gotten the call, she couldn''t believe it. After finding out that the kids had been kidnapped, he immediately left the house like a tornado. She''d assumed he''d mount a rescue, but two days later she received a call from Jack the bar owner that Ben had been mass consuming alcohol the whole two days.


    Wanting to figure out what ploy he was playing, she left it alone, only to get another call from Jack that he was two seconds away from calling the cops if she didn''t come pick him up.


    Entering the dive bar to the sound of electric guitars playing country music, she picked out Ben''s semi-muscular form laying cross-legged on the bar. If it was a drone or clone or mirage, it was extremely accurate.


    When their eyes met, Ben belched out a greeting, then vomited a transparent green goo onto the bar and barstool beside him. Jack, the burly bartender whose patience had just run out, reached across the bar and grabbed Ben by the shirt, dragging him back behind the bar with a glass getting pulled with him. Ben''s drunken protests, the shattering of glass, and a very angry rural barkeep all overlapped with the music and Hannah''s pounding feet as she ran over to stop any more violence.


    After failing to yell over everyone as Ben was nearly thrown from the bar, Hannah managed to wrestle her way into the situation and prop Ben up by the shoulder. It was when his rank breath graced her nose that she knew this wasn''t a trick, the sour alcohol that popped back up from someone''s gut was a near unreplicable stench she knew too well. She continued shouting back and forth with Jack while failing to drag out the man who was twice her scrawny weight, tripping out the door bearing a giggly, unhelpful load on her back.


    She dragged her boss back to the car he''d bought, propping him up in the back seat as he mumbled something about leaving his drink inside.


    "What is this?" she asked once the doors were closed. "Did you already get your super team back? Where are they?"


    "I-I *hic* I can''t do -hic- it," Ben hiccuped, his drunkenness still overwhelming his good sense of sharing information.


    Hannah had to stop and consider what he meant, "Like-- not right now?"


    "No, no no... no. Not ever," Ben coughed. "They can''t *HGurgh* can''t be saved."


    Hannah just sat back, feeling a tingling in her face as if Ben was transmitting his intoxication, "Why not?"


    "Becausssse, it''s inconspick-conspicuouous.... Those kids, they can''t keep getting away."


    "What do you mean?" Hannah asked, gripping her jacket angrily.


    "They win all the time," Ben slacked, getting the hang of his inebriation, "they-they get attacked by villains and-and come out winning. It''s too purrrrrfect. They''ve got a streak of good luck."


    "I''m not following what you''re saying," Hannah said, tingling in her arms as she felt a pair of hand drunkenly grab her and pull her close.


    "You heard Idet," Ben hollowly sang while grabbed his assistant in a weak, sorry fist. "They''re being held by a supervillain group in a supervillain fortress. It''s in Louisiana, a swamp, it''s buried underneath the whole swamp. Even the Hero Association doesn''t know about it.... Hannah... Hannah, there are hundreds of them. Two hundred and sixteen."


    "You''re telling me you can''t fight two hundred and sixteen supervillains to save some children?"


    Ben scoffed at the shot on his manhood, "I can EASILY take out two hundred and sixteen-- anything. But... it''s not normal. If I help those kids out, people are gonna know someone''s protecting them, and they''ll probably guess it''s me. So, I can''t. They have to do it themselves; I can''t just go save them."


    "Bullshit," Hannah pushed Ben away, "you can do anything! Make it look like-- SOMETHING! Are you really going to let Mike die when he''s finally started getting out of his shell? You''re giving up on Katherine, who''s working so hard for her scholarship? You''ll let Sam be killed after all you''ve done for him? What about Gary and Garrett? Are you going to let them die without finding out they love each other?"


    Ben chuckled, the laughed, then coughed as he realized she was serious, "They''re not gay."


    "They certainly act like it," Hannah harumphed. "Talking about their dicks and doing gay stunts."


    "Trust me, there''s a brain thing for lust and love. They both have it for Katherine. The gay thing is to lay low around her."


    "Are you really going to get such an interesting love triangle die because you''re too chicken shit that someone will find out your-!"


    With no sign of drunken folly, Ben shoved a hand into Hannah''s open mouth, curling his fingers at the second knuckle to fill her mouth whole down to his palm. She recoiled, but he followed her, keeping his fist in her mouth until she was pressed against the back seat while drooling over Ben''s fist.


    "You''re not going to do that," Ben told her in a steely, flat tone. "It would be a bad time for all involved."


    He glared Hannah down with eyes that were steady, ready, and willing to bury a body tonight. She nodded, biting a little on Ben''s fist as he withdrew his mitt from her mandibles.


    "I''ve literally seen everyone die, remember? Not a single person has escaped my sight in all time and space. Five kids who should have been small-town nobodies isn''t going to change anything."


    And then, Hannah pulled out the insult she was saving for a rainy day, "Your museum''s shit. It never made me feel any better."


    "Oh? What do you think I need to change?"


    "Change? Nothing, you''re origin''s just stupid. Nobody cares that you got hurt."


    "Would it be better if the comeback was more interesting?"


    "IT''S ALL BAD!" Hannah yelled, the distress reaching her throat and cackling in her voice. She realized she yelled, but was so unhappy with Ben that she didn''t even apologize.


    "I can still change it," Ben said, leaning back as the alcohol worked its way through his system, "it''s not like it''s one hundred percent honest in the first place."


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Hannah rolled her head with eyes on Ben like a hawk on prey, "It''s not true?"


    "It''s mostly true. I just left a few million years out."


    Hannah waited, "Don''t be a bitch. You know damn well I want to hear more of this!"


    "You know how my power lets me see all time and space? That''s not a lie. At full power, I am witness to every minute detail of the universe from the start to finish. I was in a coma for two years because my feeble human mind couldn''t process that much information. Did you ever ask yourself what snapped me back to my body, even with all that processing load?"


    Hannah waited with bated breath.


    "It was Ymir. See, he wasn''t just the strongest hero that we know today, he had another power that wasn''t obvious: Immortality. He was going to live for a very, very long time, and he would be getting stronger the older his immortal ass got. Sure, he was a bastard, but he still acted like a hero. He would go on saving people into humanity''s space age and beyond. He would be known as the greatest hero of all time, never giving up the good fight. Epics would be written about his life, statues in every human household, even alien species would come to revere him as a true-blue human god. And when he finally dies, it will be in an act of true heroism, his memory kept alive until life itself struggled to survive. Even his uglier habits eventually go away, and he becomes a real, no-skeletons-in-the-closet hero."


    "But, you said the multiverse was fake?" Hannah confessed in confusion. "How could you kill him if he was going to have a future?"


    "Thanks to a lot of preparation, and a lot of time travel," Ben hiccup-chuckled. "The best way to picture it is like a rubber band stretched between two points: the beginning and the end. NO! A guitar string. It''s like a guitar string, stretched between two points. Every single person''s free will pulling that string in another direction. No matter how hard anyone will pulls it, there''s a rebound, if not by another person''s will than the natural ebb and flow of the universe correcting itself."


    "The universe corrects itself?" Hannah plucked the phrase out.


    "Don''t interrupt," Ben shushed. "Anyway, Ymir was a large part of the universal guitar string, more than any other immortal and certainly more than any mortal. But all I needed to do was pluck the guitar string in the right direction over and over again, slowly molding the universe into one where Ymir could be killed. Into one where he WOULD be killed. I didn''t always get it right, but thanks to a lot of time travel, I had all the time in the universe and then some. Let me tell you, those five years of my life were the longest of anyone ever. There were once five million of me scattered across the cosmos for five seconds. All of my effort bending, pulling, twisting at a universe that wanted him alive. I had artifacts, pockets of pocket dimensions, space and time warped irreparably. Just to kill one guy."


    "All that, just because he hurt you?"


    Ben stiffened, then glanced over at Hannah, "Well, that, and... for justice."


    "... Justice?" she said, the word feeling alien on her tongue. "What justice?"


    "You know Ymir''s crimes. But did you know that he never gets punished for killing the people he''s killed. He keeps going for a million years, but everyone who finds out lets it go because... he''s still saving more people than he hurts. Not a single person calls him out on it. Even when he finally changes his ways, he just keeps his crimes a secret. There''s no karma, no cosmic backlash, no judge, no jury, not even a slap on the wrist. Everyone he''s ever hurt just disappear into nothing while he is glorified and praised and worshipped. The most horrific crime in all of history goes unpunished, just because of some cosmic balance bullshit. And everyone, everyone who found out about his horrible shit just forgave him. Like it was an acceptable loss."


    "Fuck that. If there was no justice in the world, then I was going to get some myself. But when I reawakened, the cosmic apotheosis wore on me, and I wondered if I was wrong. That was my time in the military, I had to see for myself how trustworthy my omniscience is. So I found his island and watched the nuke go off myself, which confirmed that my sight was true. From there, it was just about making Ymir pay. I picked the moment in recent history when he would be weakest, five years from then, and I started to prepare. God artifacts, gods themselves, the position of planets, which phase the moon was in, a pebble on the road positioned just right so it got in a security guard''s shoe in such a way that he would step on it a few minutes later and distract himself long enough to miss my explosives laden van driving outside, which he would have noticed as suspicious and alerted security if not for a momentary distraction."


    Ben rolled his sleepy, weary head over to Hannah, "I spent lifetimes constructing the perfect moment. A concentrated pull on a universal guitar string hard enough to punish the only person in existence to never suffer for his crimes."


    Ben faced forward, really wishing he had some whiskey in front of him as Hannah asked, "What did that do to the future?"


    "Dunno," Ben said, massaging his face. "Part of the plan required pulling us both out of time and space, into a place where even someone like me couldn''t see into or out of. My omniscience is the best out of all of them, you know? And once Ymir was dead, really and truly dead, I put on this power dampener, and I''ve never taken it off since."


    Ben showed his special watch to Hannah, who remarked, "Is that what that is?"


    "Yep," Ben said, "restricts my sight in exponential increments. Ever since I left that demi-universe, I''ve never unleashed my power enough to see more than five seconds into the future. I have no idea what my actions may have wrought, and I don''t care. I did what was right, and if the universe doesn''t like that, then the universe can suck a turd. They can try to punish me all they want, but I made sure that no power in this universe or outside of it can undo Ymir''s death, which was half the battle in the first place. So many people revive him later or travel in time to see the great hero, it''s super annoying."


    "What about the backlash? Or the...  uh, the rebound? Aren''t you worried?"


    "A little," Ben admitted, "but I think it may have worked itself out already. You now Big Man?"


    "The guy who replaced Ymir as the strongest hero?  What''s he got to do with this?"


    "I had no idea who he was before he was revealed by the Hero Association. Like, he never appeared in the future with Ymir even though he''s clearly as strong as him. I can only conclude that Big Man is the universe''s answer to Ymir''s death. A hero strong enough to replace him, and invisible to me so that I can''t kill this one."


    Hannah was reeling from the revelation that the entire timestream continuum was at risk thanks to the drunkard next to her who wouldn''t even save some kids.


    "You talk of justice, but what''s happening to those kids isn''t justice."


    "Then they''ll have to find their own justice, the way I found mine."


    The assistant sat back, looking at her boss in astonishment. There was absolutely no logical reasoning she could ever accept for allowing children to die.


    "Of course, there is a way that might work out for all concerned," Ben huffed exasperatedly.


    "Which is?"


    "I can''t save them directly, but I could unlock the doors for them, they could find their own way out. Hopefully. It would still be on them to get out."


    "Yes, please, can you do that! Any little thing to help!"


    "Aaaaaaaaaahhhllllllright," Ben agonized. "Go to my truck, the center console has a thing with a big button on it. Hit that button, or give it to me and I''ll hit it."


    Hannah excitedly hopped out of her backseat, skipped her way over a poorly salted icy parking lot, and into Ben''s lifted truck. She popped open the center console and immediately knew what Ben was talking about. In the middle of a bunch of gizmos and alien gadgets was a bulbous grey box with an ominous red button on top. She picked it out, excited to finally use some of the mysterious tech Ben kept, but accidentally turned some scroll wheels on the back. She knew better than to press the button after accidentally fumbling it, so she brought it back to her car for Ben to fix.


    "Good sense," he congratulated her, much to her immense pleasure. "I set this earlier, but you just moved the beacon over Florida. That would be rough. I''ll set it back to the Louisiana destination, and-"


    Ben held the doohickey up and Hannah gladly pressed the button.


    "-that''s that! Now we just need to wait for them to invade and the kids should have an easier time getting out."


    Hannah nodded, then picked out the word, "Invade? Them? What?"


    Ben grinned at her with the red glint in his eyes, then his jaw stretched into a yawn.


    "Gosh, drinking really tires me out," Ben finished his yawn. "Let''s get some sleep. We''ll need it."


    "Ben," Hannah bumped her boss while a sinking feeling filled her gut about the contraption, "what does this button do?"