《Gigaheroes》


 Chapter One

    Daniel Peterson


    Falling down is the only thing that makes me feel alive anymore. There¡¯s a rush when your insides are catching up with your outsides. The whole world yawns before you, and in that moment, you feel you could go anywhere. And not a person is around to tell you otherwise or you can¡¯t do it or you ought to be an example. There¡¯s no one to say wrong is right or you should lie to speak the truth.


    I wish I could fly. I hate those bastards who were lucky enough to have that power.


    Me? I can only fall.


    I plummeted past a sea of dirty glass. Sometimes I caught a glimpse of the cubicles and offices and the people, but I don¡¯t like to look in that direction. I didn¡¯t like to look in any direction. This crumbling concrete and rusted city wasn¡¯t exactly something worth seeing. I held my eyes shut and just imagined I was anywhere else. I often imagined the ocean. I always liked the ocean.


    You might ask how I could know the ground was coming. You get a feel for these things once you do it long enough. Or at least, that¡¯s what I want to tell myself. I¡¯ve always been tempted to wait for that rush of concrete, but there¡¯s always something that makes me open my eyes at the last second. And a blink later, I¡¯m standing on the street safe and sound. Teleportation sounds like a nice superpower to have, and it is. I just wish I could fly.


    I wake up from my dream, and I¡¯m surrounded by the usual police cars. Behind them are the flashes of phone cameras, and behind them are the faces of the gawking crowd. Already they are cordoning me off with yellow tape, and I wait there for someone to put me in handcuffs. They know they don¡¯t have to send anyone serious. They know I have nowhere to go.


    ¡°That¡¯s the third time this month,¡± Jayne said, sipping his coffee as I¡¯m cuffed. ¡°You know you aren¡¯t allowed.¡±


    ¡°I swear I saw someone jump off.¡± I make the same excuse I have a thousand times, grinning as my head is slammed down on the hood of the police car. CitySec always likes to play it rough around abnormals. That¡¯s what a superhero is the second they do something they aren¡¯t supposed to¡ªan abnormal.


    Jayne sighed and he watches passively as I¡¯m put away. ¡°You can¡¯t keep doing this. It draws bad attention, bad public image.¡±


    ¡°I thought all publicity was good publicity,¡± I joked as an armored car rolls up. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what Walter says?¡±


    The old man shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Not this kind.¡±


    I¡¯m thrown in the back of the armored truck. They know they don¡¯t need the truck, but I appreciate the gesture. The walls are Zurchon-lined steel, and the guys with riot gear have guns which shoot Zurchon-tipped bullets. It¡¯s a headache for someone as powerful as me, but it makes them feel safer, I guess.


    The drive is a long and quiet one. They¡¯re rarely anything else. A CitySec officer with a sense of humor is hard to come by, and the one that doesn¡¯t hate abnormals is even harder. First in and first out, usually on a stretcher. Never mind that it¡¯s The Urban Defenders who are handed the nastiest jobs. I suppose that doesn¡¯t matter much to the guy who has to go home to his shitty apartment while we get the penthouse floor of a skyscraper. Still, a little appreciation would¡¯ve been nice.


    ¡°I heard they¡¯re making a new Captain Eagle movie. Any of you see the trailer for it yet?¡± Two black of the six visors swivel towards me.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s got Danny Meyers in it. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s good for the role. Doesn¡¯t have the¡ª¡± One of the officers tased me with his electric baton.


    ¡°Fuck! All right!¡± I shouted. I decided to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the drive. Whatever people like to think of me, I¡¯m not a smartass. I hate smartasses. It¡¯s just that I hate everyone else just a little more. I pounded my ribs, trying to get the knot of pain to go away. Thank goodness I wasn¡¯t wearing my superhero suit. It¡¯s a little more than spandex and a cowl. I rested my elbows on my knees and grimaced. Through the reinforced glass I saw Jayne in a police car following shortly behind.


    How much paperwork did I just throw on his lap? Too much. I made a mental note to swipe some scotch for him later.


    Eventually, the armored truck pulls up to Defender¡¯s Tower. It stands out like a sore thumb because it¡¯s one of the relatively few skyscrapers in City 57 that¡¯s not falling apart. I crack my neck as we go around and descend into the basement garage. The armored truck stops at the sub-level entrance, otherwise politely titled ¡°Rehabilitation¡±. Two of the guards with me open the door, and I¡¯m violently dragged out.


    I already know where to go, a glass door flanked by two guys wearing blue and yellow Starcorp uniforms. I took a step forward only for an arcing pain to shoot through my back. My legs gave out under me, and I would¡¯ve yelled a few expletives if I wasn¡¯t already screaming in pain.


    ¡°Hey! Hey! Hey!¡± Jayne jumped out of his police car while it¡¯s still moving. He ran over to CitySec ready to throw fists. Grimacing, I saw him square up to the man who tased me in the back. ¡°He is not your problem anymore! He¡¯s not your problem! You got that!? Second he steps in this garage, he¡¯s StarCorp¡¯s. Take your men and go!¡± He pointed back out to the exit.


    The CitySec guys hesitantly piled back in their vehicles, while Jayne helped me back to my feet. ¡°You learn your lesson yet?¡± Jayne asked as I brushed myself off.


    ¡°I just wanted some time to myself,¡± I grunted, the humor already beaten out of me. It wasn¡¯t even eight in the morning, and I was tired.


    Jayne clapped me on the shoulder. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get you in the tank. Sooner you get in, sooner you get out.¡±


    The StarCorp guys are at least a lot gentler. They know me. That¡¯s the reason I don¡¯t give them any shit like I sometimes do with CitySec. You don¡¯t screw with the people who can actually make your life a living hell.


    They lead down a concrete hall filled with pipes, and out we exit onto a series of walkways overlooking five vats. It¡¯s the Urban Defenders¡¯ personal sensory deprivation tanks, always waiting for us at the bottom of our own tower. At least it¡¯s not the ASA¡¯s. This is a much nicer prison all things considered. The grated catwalks aren¡¯t rusted over and covered with blood and piss and who knows what else.


    A technician waits at my vat. He¡¯s already got the whole thing ready to go, even holding the scuba mask in hand. Say what you will about Walter¡¯s operation, it¡¯s professional, even I got to give the bastard credit for that.


    Jayne put his hands on his belt as he stooped over to look into the giant vat of water. ¡°You¡¯re lucky. Walter needs you on point today. You got one hour in the tank, thirty minutes to freshen up, and then you need to be at the Hero¡¯s Room.¡±


    I look down at myself. I¡¯m wearing some civvies I nicked from a locker room in the tower. In my defense, I left a pretty big wad of cash in its place. All I have access to normally is my superhero costume and my training clothes, which aren¡¯t exactly great for winter. Or impromptu skydiving in winter for that matter.


    ¡°Any chance I can change out?¡± I asked.


    Jayne gave me a glance up and down. ¡°You¡¯re going to want those thirty minutes.¡±


    I sighed, grabbing the scuba mask from the technician. Strapping it on, it was heavy, connected to an air hose. Unlike most scuba masks, there weren¡¯t any goggles to let you see out of. But I¡¯ve done this enough times to know where to jump.


    The icy water is awful. It¡¯s just darkness, the rush of something enveloping you, and then you¡¯re freezing. I couldn¡¯t see or hear it, but I knew the lid of the vat was being closed over me. Some people say that¡¯s the worst part, the claustrophobia of it all. Personally, I think it¡¯s the cold, the way it just seeps in you. Have you ever touched a corpse? Ice cold. I¡¯ve always had a bit of a nightmare, strange one, but sometimes I think you don¡¯t leave your body when you die. You¡¯re just stuck there, forever cold, lowered and buried in the ground.


    That¡¯s what¡¯s being in the tank is like for me¡ªlike being a corpse. Honestly, I was glad that sensory deprivation cancelled out superpowers. If it didn¡¯t, I would¡¯ve teleported out of there in a second. And then I would be in even bigger trouble.


    So I floated there, clutching my shoulders and digging my fingers into my arms to try to squeeze some warmth back. It always amazes me, the creativity of cancelling out superpowers. Don¡¯t ask me the mechanics of it, but sensory deprivation just shuts that side of you off. What¡¯s more, the mask emits a high-pitched noise disorienting your own internal perception.


    Zurchon. Electricity. Sound. Hell, there¡¯s a lot of ways normals like to try to even the odds. Still, rarely as good as sending another super though.


    I was thankful I was only going to be in here an hour. Usually I¡¯m put in for half a day or so, and even that¡¯s light compared to what they do over at the ASA. They got specialized equipment to keep you in the pitch, freezing black for weeks if not months. Plus abnormals are typically durable like that. Our bodies can generally take a lot more punishment. You ever hear about people who were frozen and then revived healthily hours later? It¡¯s the same thing with us.


    And if they pump you full of the right drugs, they can even put you in the long sleep. Some people spend the remainder of their lives in the tank. I don¡¯t think you can live past a year or two or so, at least, I¡¯ve never heard of anyone coming out after that long.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Ugh. I shivered and grimaced in pain. Cold was setting in good now, and I still had a long ways to go.


    ¡­


    There was a tug on the oxygen cord. I was being pulled, and I was so cold all I could do was limply hang there and let the winch take me up. It was dark, but I felt my body break the surface of the water. Two pairs of hands grabbed me and dragged me back on the metal catwalk. A technician rips the mask off my head, and I gasped as I took in fresh air again.


    The light was blinding, and for a while, all I could do was blink and regain the feeling in my limbs. Glancing up, I saw the blurry figure of Jayne standing over me. He threw a towel over me and started drying me up despite himself wearing a nice black blazer and slacks. I finally started shivering again.


    ¡°I hate my life,¡± I muttered under my breath.


    ¡°Ever think of taking it easy and not being a dumbass?¡± Jayne cracked a tired smile as he took a step back and crossed his arms.


    I got up on my elbows and looked up at him. ¡°Every day. It¡¯s just¡­ I forget how bad this part is.¡±


    ¡°Well next time, try to remember.¡±


    I groaned and grabbed the railing as I tried to get to my feet. Jayne offered a hand to help me up, but I didn¡¯t take it.


    Jayne handed me a sandwich wrapped in tinfoil. The No. 3 Chicken and Bacon from Dave and Marcy¡¯s. My favorite. I owed that man twice now.


    Jayne raised his wrist expectantly and looked at his watch. ¡°While you were lying there getting water over all my new shoes, ten minutes passed. You¡¯ve got twenty to eat and get in costume.¡±


    ¡°Think I need a shower?¡±


    Jayne sniffed the air. ¡°I think the tank took care of that for you.¡±


    I took a bite of my sandwich. ¡°Eh, I want one anyway.¡±


    Teleporting to the penthouse, top of Defender Tower, I was back in my messy room and messier bathroom. I chomped down on my sandwich while I constantly tested the hot water, waiting painfully for my freezing body to get the memo. The next ten minutes passed by too quickly, and I was in a last minute rush to get my costume on. I just threw my purple cowl over my head instead of trying to search for my comb. A blink and a jump later, I was standing in front of the two giant bronze doors that marked the entrance to the Hero¡¯s Room.


    I also appeared right next to Yellow Bolt¡ªRob, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. ¡°What the f¡ª¡± He quickly clamped down on his mouth, aware that there were always ears around. ¡°You can¡¯t just do that man! I thought we talked about this!¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, still fumbling with my purple gloves. ¡°I had a rough morning.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know. Who do you think Walter called when the alarm went up!?¡± Yellow Bolt pointed a finger at my chest. ¡°Listen, I didn¡¯t care when it was just you in the shit, but I¡¯m your assigned babysitter now. And when you drag me into this, that¡¯s when this gets personal.¡± Electricity crackled in his hands.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make it up,¡± I promised.


    ¡°How?¡± Rob demanded.


    I glanced down at his watch. Rob sighed and crackled electricity over it, temporarily disrupting the microphone.


    ¡°Greg the Janitor. He¡¯s my supply guy. I can get you cigarettes, as many as you need.¡± I waved my hands, trying to emphasize what would be an absolute pain for me to barter.


    Rob nodded, and I saw his face go from anger to a look of keen interest. He stepped close to me. ¡°Five packs, and I¡¯ll let you off for a good while.¡±


    ¡°Three.¡± I tried to haggle down for the sake of my comic book collection.


    ¡°Five¡­ or I¡¯ll electrocute your ass in the tub.¡±


    I gritted my teeth. ¡°Deal.¡± We quickly shook hands, and I tried to keep myself from wincing.


    We waited outside the huge bronze doors. I suppose it was typical Walter, making us wait for a meeting he called. I was tempted to teleport away to get some coffee, but if those doors opened and I wasn¡¯t here¡­ I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms, tapping my foot to a beat I couldn¡¯t quite remember.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Sarah and the rest?¡± I asked.


    ¡°She¡¯s off on a photoshoot with Carl. John¡¯s probably in there with Walter.¡±


    ¡°Kiss ass,¡± I grumbled. As much as I hated him for it, didn¡¯t do much good that I was probably one too. I was StarCorp born and raised, right out of one of their protective parent programs. They put me in super-camp when I was seven, not three months after my powers manifested. Spent the next ten years in circuit competing for contracts. I was a believer back then. I think everyone is, until the first field mission.


    There was a groan in the metal as hydraulics began to pull the great bronze doors open. Yellow Bolt and I stood back as we let the yawning portal open before walking in. The Hero¡¯s Room was lavish, I don¡¯t think the likes of Walter Alvarez knew how to do anything differently.


    There was a wide marble foyer which had a huge holographic projector built into the floor. At all times there was a 3-D representation of the city, complete with pings where CitySec was requesting assistance. It was mostly for show, of course. We were only allowed to respond when there was nothing in our schedule for the day¡ªwhich was a rare thing. And by the time we got permission and could go there, the problem was already resolved.


    Off to the left was a lounge complete with a bar and a pool table. It wasn¡¯t for the Urban Defenders but for Walter¡¯s friends and business partners. Still, I¡¯ve snuck us in a few times over the years. Wasn¡¯t exactly too fun of a time, even I didn¡¯t dare to touch Walter¡¯s alcohol. Off to the right was Walter¡¯s office, big glass doors leading into a room with a bigger mahogany desk. That was the yelling room.


    There were twin staircases which curved upward into a steel platform with a semicircular conference table. The gimmick allowed Walter to be sitting in the center looking down on whoever came in. And behind him was a big glass wall overlooking the city, the one thing Walter couldn¡¯t spruce up for his tower in the heavens. The brown expanse was an eyesore, even on the best of days.


    ¡°Nighthawk! You care to have an explanation for why I¡¯ve been on the phone with CitySec for the past two hours?¡± Walter rapped his hand on the conference table.


    ¡°Saving lives, sir!¡± I called back.


    Walter snorted in disgust. ¡°You think you got off easy? You¡¯re going right back in the tank after this. And Yellow Bolt, if he so much as tiptoes out of this building again without my say so, I¡¯m throwing you in too.¡±


    I caught John¡¯s eye as we climbed up the stairs and joined them at the conference table. He was hiding a smile, smugly looking down on us as we took our seats to the left of Walter. I was at the end of the table. There wasn¡¯t assigned seating or anything. I just couldn¡¯t stand to sit anywhere near Walter or John.


    ¡°Now if we¡¯re done with this morning¡¯s clusterfuck.¡± Walter waved his hand and miniature holographic displays appeared in front of us. ¡°We have to deal with our social media drop. Engagement has been down twenty-three percent these past three months. Our merchandising sales are down fifteen percent, and after our recent loss at the intercity competitions, we¡¯re looking worse than ever. Currently we¡¯re ranked 129<sup>th </sup>on polls for C-Rank, and if things continue the way they are, we could drop to the bottom 200s.¡±


    As I was skimming the social sphere, I saw someone had posted a video of my recent skyscraper diving debacle. If I had access to my main account, I would¡¯ve reposted it with a thumbs up. But I wasn¡¯t allowed on social media anymore. Those privileges were taken away when I joked about teleporting our homeless problem into the Hudson. Since then, hashtag free Nighthawk has been in the replies of every post my account handler made.


    But what was hilarious was that I was the only one of the Urban Defenders who was trending. And since this morning, there¡¯d been a sharp uptick in Nighthawk action figure sales.


    I hid a grin as I pretended to care about the conversation.


    ¡°¡­outreach programs aren¡¯t getting attention like they used to. People aren¡¯t interested in charity work or rescue services. They want to see blood, and we¡¯re going to give it to them. Blue Justice, CitySec is currently hunting down a class three near the Rad Zone. I want you to join with them and squeeze that fight for all it¡¯s worth. You¡¯re the main act today, try to put on a good show¡±


    John nodded.


    ¡°Yellow Bolt, I¡¯m attaching you and Nighthawk to a CitySec raid happening later today. Press are going to be there to take pictures. You¡¯ll receive a briefing on the target en route, but I want you to keep in mind your poses. Nighthawk, if I hear one more time about how the press can¡¯t get you to stand in front of the cameras¡­¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it add to my mystique, though?¡± I protested. ¡°I¡¯m the Nighthawk. I should be the mysterious one.¡± In truth, I hated pictures. Nothing was more cringe-inducing than standing in front of a camera and flexing my muscles.


    ¡°You can have your mystique, or you can have a contract here.¡± Walter shot me down. ¡°Get the poses. Bag the bad guys. And if you pull any more stunts, you can pack your bags to Gen Pop.¡±


    That was always Walter¡¯s threat. General population was the open air prisons scattered throughout the Democratic Union. If you weren¡¯t lucky enough to be born under StarCorp¡¯s benevolent programs or to get recruited out of the ASA, you ended up in Gen Pop. They put an implant in your neck, and if you step outside a certain radius, off comes your head.


    Huh, now that I think about it, maybe there were worse things than being a celebrity.


    ¡­


    A few hours later, I was again riding in the back of an armored truck. The Zurchon lined steel felt like a constant splinter in my head, didn¡¯t do anything to help my mood. Yellow Bolt sat across from me, and for some reason, his costume really pissed me off. Nothing against the guy of course, but couldn¡¯t our fashion designers just show some class?


    Rob had on a green and yellow suit with a whacky lightning bolt emblazoned on the chest. His mask was jagged, like lightning as well. He didn¡¯t look cool. He looked like how a kindergartner would draw an electricity man as a theme. And the really annoying part was that it at least fit his powers, unlike mine.


    I was just given the costume from the old Nighthawk. There was a whole campaign where I was inheriting the mantle or whatever, but the original concept was fit for a guy who actually had wings. Third generation was weird like that, you know? Anyway my cowl was shaped as a black beak and my purple spandex was lined with dark feathers. I looked like Birdman except Birdman had his own hit comedy series.


    Glancing up, I saw Rob on the edge of his seat. He fiddled with his hands, trying to work out something to say.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, rubbing my forehead.


    ¡°Just that you should try playing it nice for a while man,¡± Yellow Bolt said. ¡°Walter¡¯s serious. You should hear what he¡¯s saying while you¡¯re in the tank. He¡¯s honestly getting pretty close to knocking you off the team.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± I said half-heartedly.


    In all honesty, I didn¡¯t have it in me to care. When Walter¡¯s gloves came off, at least it was honest. All the smiling for the public, all the pretenses, all the chippy attitude, it was killing me inside. Eventually, it probably would, one way or another.


    ¡°You know we care about you. Me and Sarah and the rest. Just go along. Do you want to go to Gen Pop?¡±


    ¡°Why not? It¡¯s the happiest place on Earth, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked.


    Rob groaned. ¡°You got lucky. Luckier than most. You don¡¯t have to worry about your next meal or a place to live. You have everything provided to you. You have the good life. Don¡¯t throw that away.¡±


    He was right. I did have the good life. I was lucky enough to be born with powers that were of use to the Democratic Union. More than that, I was luckier to be born in a StarCorp program, practically put on fast-track to be chosen as a C-Rank hero. I wasn¡¯t picked up by the ASA and thrown as a soldier into a forever war or sent to work on construction projects too dangerous for normals. Instead, I was chosen for the spotlight. I was held up as an example, a bulwark to the great society of the Democratic Union.


    I had everything people wanted, but it didn¡¯t change the fact that I was miserable inside.


    ¡°You remember your first field mission?¡± I asked.


    Rob gave me a knowing look. Course he did. Everyone did. It was the moment in super-camp where you first drew blood. Usually happened when you were fourteen or fifteen. You¡¯re dropped in one of those large stretches of wilderness between the city centers and told to eliminate a small target. Granted, sometimes it¡¯s not all bad, taking out human smugglers, drug traffickers, and the like. Me? I had population control, a nice phrase for eliminating the undesirables of the Democratic Union.


    The armored truck rolled to a stop, and there was a knock on the door. It was time.


    I put on my mask and reminded myself not to look at the faces. I was exceptionally good at remembering faces. It was another power I wish I didn¡¯t have.

 Chapter Two

    Seattle Vance


    They used to say guns were the great equalizers. Well, I¡¯ve got news for you. They¡¯re not¡ªnot anymore at least. Maybe they had been for men and women. Maybe for a normal and someone with a class one superpower. But for a normal and a fucking class three? Yeah, no.


    I had barely glanced up from the table when I saw a guy in purple spandex appear right next to Jonas. Me and Jonas, we went a ways back. All the way back to when Cairo kicked off. That¡¯s the thing about war. If you last long enough, you start thinking you¡¯re special, that someone from up high is looking out for you. When you go for a piss and your whole platoon takes a drone up the ass, you start thinking you were saved for a reason.


    ¡°Oh shi¡ª¡± was all Jonas got out before purple guy took him.


    And he was gone. A man I once shared a foxhole with might as well have been dead.


    It¡¯s not easy to get through your head. I remember watching Captain Eagle cartoons when I was a kid, him popping off people¡¯s noggins with a flick of his finger. You always think that¡¯s the sort of thing that happens to someone else. You always think you aren¡¯t going to be the random idiot who gets his brains blown out. But that¡¯s life for the rest of us.


    ¡°We¡¯re being attacked!¡± I yelled to the rest of the room, whipping out my pistol. All I had on hand was a 45. ACP. It could pretty much take out anyone with a well-placed shot. Anyone except those with class three or above superpowers.


    The few guys with me unholstered their weapons and started pulling security. We were in a hollowed out living room converted into a makeshift command post. There were two points of entry¡ªthree counting the trapdoor which led out to our little pier on the Hudson.


    ¡°No!¡± I shouted, grabbing one of them. ¡°Double up! Back to back! This guy¡¯s trying to pick us off!¡±


    I slammed my back against Sam¡¯s just when purple spandex appeared again. I swung my pistol and fired a shot. He disappeared, the bullet whizzing harmlessly passed and punching a hole in the wall.


    ¡°What do we do!?¡± Sam yelled. He was in a panic. They all were.


    I had to pause for a moment, stop the adrenaline from making me act stupid. One breath. Two. Gunfire erupted somewhere else. Explosions went off as my guys detonated the claymores we had hidden in the apartment walls. It wasn¡¯t just superheroes then. It was CitySec too. We were royally screwed, but we weren¡¯t going down without a fight.


    ¡°Get the Zapper!¡± I yelled. ¡°Cover each other, make sure the teleporter can¡¯t get close!¡±


    Niles hesitated. ¡°But it¡¯s only got the one¡ª¡±


    ¡°Do it!¡± I ordered. We had needed the Zapper for the ASA job, but as it stood, most of us wouldn¡¯t be breathing tomorrow.


    Niles nodded, finally realizing the gravity of the situation. He and Parker shuffled back-to-back into the nearby bedroom where we had stored all our equipment. Meanwhile, I was trying not to shit myself, waiting for purple spandex to appear again. Me and Sam stood in the doorway to the bedroom, trying to reduce possible points of attack. Going against supes, it¡¯s downright unfair I tell you. But our purple friend didn¡¯t come back. I think he realized we wouldn¡¯t be easy targets.


    I winced as I heard sounds of fighting all around us. I radioed in the warning for whoever was out there to listen. Probably wouldn¡¯t do much good, but it would at least give them a chance.


    Damn it. I thought we had it good here. We just got set up too. Homeless didn¡¯t frequent the area, too far out from the food-lines. We had a signal jammer to knock out any passing drones, and I had rotating shifts of riflemen on the nearby buildings. We had secured this place as much as it could be.


    I gritted my teeth as I heard more fighting. Where the fuck was our early warning? I had guys for that.


    ¡°Teleported away, you idiot,¡± I muttered to myself, suddenly realizing the answer.


    Note to self, next time invest in those heartbeat alarms the Ecuadorian Mercs were selling in City 48.


    Huh, funny how I always think that¡ªthat there¡¯s going to be a next time.


    ¡°Zapper¡¯s ready to fire!¡± Niles yelled from the bedroom.


    ¡°Hit it!¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we wait for¡ª¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not the only supe out there! Fire it!¡±


    There was an audible click as an electromagnetic pulse was fired off. My vision went dizzy, and the floor rushed up to meet me. I felt iron smelling blood burst from my nose, and the mother of all migraines exploded in my head.


    ¡°Vance!¡± Sam hauled me back to my feet.


    ¡°That bought us fifteen, twenty minutes tops,¡± I told him, panting heavily as I fought a wave of nausea. ¡°Fall back to the pier and start the motorboats. Wait ten minutes and then leave!¡± As much as I hated cutting and running, we didn¡¯t have much other choice. I felt a surge of anger at the supes. My brain was finally getting over the shock and realizing just how much we lost.


    I got my radio out and gave the order to everyone. If there was anyone able to make it, they would make it in that timeframe. If not, then they were shit out of luck.


    ¡°You go too.¡± I glanced back at Sam. ¡°I¡¯ll put my back against the wall. Try to buy as much time as I can.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious. We need you.¡±


    ¡°Not anymore, our party is officially over. Want my advice? Head to City 35. I hear business is good with the Runner Gangs down there.¡±


    Sam cursed, but he ran over to the trap door followed by Niles and Parker. I planted myself against the wall while several more men came running in the room. They each climbed down into the tunnel, but the trickle of men quickly ran dry. Ten¡ªno eleven made it. I quickly pulled the rug over the trap door. They would detonate the explosives on the other side, keep anyone from following. That was good enough, I guess.


    I threw up the table as a barricade and blocked the door to the hallway. Repositioning in the corner of what had been once a small kitchen, I prepared to set my ambush using the counter as cover. Probably should¡¯ve done that earlier, but your head thinks weird things in combat. But now I had a good vantage point of both entrances.


    I winced as I glanced at the crates and radio equipment in the bedroom. That room was filled with all our supplies, worth a small fortune in putting together. Clean water, MREs, and enough firepower to level a city block, everything needed for the gig of a lifetime. Now it was all going to be confiscated by CitySec.


    My eyes fell to the floorboards. Well, maybe not everything. I was glad I took Joshua¡¯s advice, even though I thought it was overkill. At least there might be something to come back to after this whole shitshow was over.


    I chuckled. I did it again¡ªthinking I was going to get out of this.


    Before you get any of the wrong ideas, you should know a few things about me. I didn¡¯t stay behind for some noble cause or anything. Listen, when the chips are down I normally don¡¯t give two shits about anyone except number one. But I also hate losing. And I hate losing to supes.


    Who¡¯s crazy enough to square up against class threes or above? Me, I guess. Might say it¡¯s a mental illness, but I like to think I don¡¯t turn tail and run so easily. My hands were shaking while I was holding my pistol. Not from fear, mind you. Licking my lips, I tried to hold myself steady. Man, it gets difficult keeping a clear head, with all the memories that keep flooding back.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The gunfire and explosions were growing quiet. Every once in a while, there would be a quick flurry of noise, but those were growing fewer and farther between. Minutes passed and no one came in. It seemed like the Zapper had done its job. And just as I was patting myself on the back, purple spandex popped back into the room.


    I unloaded three rounds, and bird guy practically phased in and out of reality as he dodged them. My bullets may have well been nonexistent for all the good they did. Super powers bypass conventional human instincts. As long as he knew they were coming, there was no way my bullets were ever going to hit him. He was just trying to make me empty my magazine and then grab me. I stopped. It was pointless.


    Purple kid appeared again. He knocked his hand on his head several times, and I noticed he had a red smear of blood on his lip. ¡°I gotta say, you guys did a number on me. What was that? One of those EMP pulses?¡±


    ¡°We called it the Zapper,¡± I said, keeping my pistol aimed in his direction. ¡°Bought it in a garage sale.¡±


    ¡°Har-dee-har-har,¡± the guy in the bird costume paced. ¡°Can you go ahead and empty that gun for me? Would really help.¡±


    ¡°What did you do to my friend?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t make him go splat, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about. I only killed the guys guarding the front door.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± I shot another bullet at him for all the good it did.


    ¡°Listen.¡± the guy in the bird costume appeared again, crossing his arms. ¡°You put down the gun, and I don¡¯t have to rough you up. I¡¯ll take it easy on you. How about that?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You think you¡¯re the one going easy? I could fuck you up in a second, kid. Don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t gone up against people like you before.¡±


    The guy in the bird costume coughed out a laugh. ¡°Oh, really now? All right then.¡± He raised both his arms. ¡°Hit me.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but smirk. I knew I had him then.


    Cocking my head, I put my finger on the trigger. ¡°Could make it harder.¡±


    Purple spandex appeared less than two feet away. ¡°No no. I want you to try to hit me. Go on. I¡¯ll dodge it like the rest.¡±


    Holding the pistol with one hand, I aimed it square at his head. ¡°Oh, in a few seconds, you¡¯ll be feeling it.¡±


    Bird guy appeared right in front of the pistol. He grabbed it and pushed it directly into his forehead. ¡°Come on, hit me.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°All right then.¡±


    With my other arm, I slugged him in the solar plexus. Purple spandex doubled-over gasping for breath. I tried to shoot him, but he disappeared again.


    Fuck. I stomped my foot in the ground, pointing the pistol in the air. ¡°You think you¡¯re invincible!? Even you can¡¯t dodge something you don¡¯t know is coming!¡± I shouted.


    There was some yelling and gunfire down the hall. There were a few guys still trying to fall back, but there was a bright flash. I smelled ozone, and I heard screaming.


    I kid you not, a guy in a lightning mask ducked his head through the barricade before blowing it apart with a bolt of electricity. Purple spandex appeared again beside him, still recovering his breath.


    I sighed as I waved my pistol between them, knowing full well what was going to happen.


    ¡°What the fuck did he do?¡± Lightning mask asked purple spandex, noticing his breathing trouble. ¡°The EMP wasn¡¯t that bad.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± bird guy responded, giving me the evil eye.


    I wish that they would¡¯ve just done a drone strike on the building. It wouldn¡¯t be as humiliating as getting presently whipped by two kids playing dress up. Still, I wasn¡¯t about to go out without letting a few more shots off. I unloaded the rest of my pistol at lightning man, but each bullet was struck out of the air by sparks of electricity. He didn¡¯t even need to move. He simply raised his hand, ready to blast me.


    I looked down at my gun, a constant disappointment in my life. I tossed the weapon away and threw my arms wide. ¡°Well? Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    ¡°We going to kill him?¡± Purple spandex asked, straightening up.


    ¡°Nah, this guy looks like the leader. They¡¯re going to want him for questioning.¡±


    I gave him the honest finger. Lightning man shook his head in annoyance, and after that, all I remember was a flash of light.


    The next thing I knew, journalists were snapping shots of us and the dead bodies, the tasteful corpses anyway. Some of the charred remains were too graphic to put on the news. It might¡¯ve made them look bad. The lightning man held me up by the hair as he gave a quick interview.


    Slobber dribbled down my chin. I remember throwing up on the pavement, and then I was shoved into the back of an armored truck.


    ¡­


    It was several more minutes before I came to again. My head was pounding, and I groaned as I blinked my eyes, trying to clear up my vision. The purple guy was sitting in the truck with me as we were being driven to the nearest interrogation center. I shook my head and vomited again on the floor truck. That seemed to be the last of it. I sighed with relief. I noticed I was bound in handcuffs. I wiped the dribble off my mouth with my shoulder.


    ¡°Mind if I smoke?¡± I asked.


    Purple spandex shrugged his shoulders. He had taken off his mask, revealing a young face that couldn¡¯t have been much older than twenty. His brown hair was smooth and glossy, likely the result of a dozen different shampoos and conditioners. Some of it was combed to fall over one eye. His stylist was clearly going for the bad boy look, and it was failing badly. His soft features made him look more like a sad puppy. The only thing off-putting were his crimson red eyes, which were the only mildly intimidating thing about him.


    I couldn¡¯t bring myself to hate him after seeing that. I understood then¡ªI had seen it enough times over my colorful career. He wasn¡¯t a believer. He was just someone trying to survive.


    I ruffled through my coat and pulled out a lighter and cigarette. Some men have trouble moving about in handcuffs. I had plenty of experience. I puffed on the smoke for a few minutes, enjoying the burn in my chest.


    ¡°When did they take you?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°What age did they take you? Were you an ASA kid? I know StarCorp does the rounds at their facilities, buying out the kids with potential.¡±


    ¡°I was from a protective parent program.¡±


    I puffed again. ¡°Shit, that might be even worse. Bred from the cradle to be our best and brightest. Did your parents at least reconsider when they finally had to hand you over?¡±


    One sour look told me all I needed to know. Those sorts of people didn¡¯t get selected for StarCorp¡¯s eugenics program because they got too attached to children. They themselves were probably recruited out of Gen Pop, given a lavish lifestyle in exchange for producing superior, more well-adjusted superheroes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Sorry about what?¡±


    ¡°Sorry you never got to have a childhood¡ªa real one, anyway. I was much the same. It¡¯s a tough hand to be dealt.¡± I offered the cigarette over to purple spandex. ¡°Want a puff?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not allowed.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°They aren¡¯t watching all the time. You can cut loose.¡±


    Purple spandex pointed to a sleek watch on his wrist.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said. ¡°I guess they are.¡±


    We rode in silence for a little ways. I continued enjoying my cigarette, fully aware of the irony of the situation. He was the hero, and yet he was riding in the same Zurchon-lined coffin as me. I knew the business very well. Behind all the glamor, superheroes were kept on a very short leash. They walked that thin line of being too dangerous for society and too powerful for the system to pass up. I pitied this young guy. He had never known freedom.


    ¡°They all resent you,¡± I began speaking. ¡°You should know that. I saw how the police officers were looking at you when they put you in here with me. They hate you because you¡¯re a walking contradiction to the lie we¡¯re supposed to believe. Not all of us are created equal, and they hate you because you can do something they can¡¯t.¡±


    The kid remained silent.


    ¡°But they¡¯re not as bad as the leeches who watch your every little exploit, the ones who eat up all the propaganda like it¡¯s the Bible. They spend their lives wanting to be you, and you just want to scream at them the truth. It¡¯s all squalid, right up to the very top.¡±


    The bird kid winced, and I smiled, knowing I finally hit something real.


    ¡°I am loyal to the people of the Democratic Union. You¡¯re a dangerous terrorist.¡± Purple spandex rattled the line off as if he were a wind-up toy.


    ¡°I¡¯m far worse than a terrorist, kid.¡± I chuckled, hesitating for a moment. The smile died on my lips for a moment. ¡°Want my advice? Start learning to say no¡ªbefore you lose something you can¡¯t get back.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± The kid finally had enough.


    I raised my cuffed hands in surrender. I lifted a finger. ¡°Just one more thing¡­ I want you to know you¡¯re not the only one who can do cool stuff.¡±


    Purple spandex raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I can teleport too.¡±


    I vanished from the truck.


    Of course, I didn¡¯t really teleport. If I had that ability, it would¡¯ve made my life so much easier. Instead, all I got was a paltry class two invisibility¡­ but it did have its advantages from time to time.


    Bird kid¡¯s eyes went wide. To his credit, he didn¡¯t immediately panic. He reached out with his arm, checking if I was still there. He had a good head on his shoulders, but not good enough to realize what he should¡¯ve done. I yanked my handcuffs around his neck and started choking him.


    Suddenly, we were outside of the truck and in the street. I grinned. Instinct overrode sense. He was just trying to get away, and he accidentally pulled me with him. I let him go and pushed him into the asphalt. His watch was already squeaking and the police convoy was putting on the brakes, but it didn¡¯t matter.


    Between the Zapper, the Zurchon-lined truck, and getting hit by actual lightning,. I didn¡¯t have much left in the tank. My invisibility flickered on and off as I stumbled into a stopped car, the occupant honked the horn. Panting heavily, I summoned my last bit of energy as CitySec cars pulled to a stop and officers began pointing guns.


    I went invisible and sprinted away as a hail of bullets issued out. Thankfully, none hit me, and I ducked into a nearby alley. Throwing myself under a dumpster, I let out a gasp of pain as the invisibility turned off again. They¡¯d think I¡¯d still be running¡ªthat would give me some time to recharge my batteries.


    And then? That was for future me to worry about. My head was still too clouded to think that far ahead. I shut my eyes and tried not to think about all the shouting and commotion on the street.


    ¡­


    Since you found out my dirty secret, I¡¯m sure you have some questions. Yes, I¡¯m technically a supe too. Technically. Let¡¯s not get too ahead of ourselves here. I¡¯m close to the bottom of the bottom of the barrel here, the shortest straw drawn in the genetic lottery, abnormal enough to be a de-facto enemy of the state, yet not enough for the cushy life.


    Funny how that works.


    If you stick around longer, maybe you¡¯ll learn a few other things about me. Don¡¯t expect me to go blabbing though. I¡¯m a guy who has to keep his cards close to his chest. That¡¯s the only way people like me survive in this world.


    But in any case, I¡¯ve still got CitySec drones trying to spot me.


    Catch you next time.

 Chapter Three

    Adam Mason


    Five hundred credits for a cheeseburger. I stared at the flickering LED menu until my eyes felt like they were bleeding. They said moving to a digital currency was going to fix the inflation issue. They said a universal income was going to help get people back on their feet. At least we don¡¯t have high immigration anymore. No one wants to live in the Democratic Union.


    But it was five hundred credits for a cheeseburger, and I couldn¡¯t rack up anymore debt on my E-ID.


    I was standing in a grimy fast-food restaurant. I had just been kicked out of my bunk-house in the Burrows. Now you might ask why a guy would choose to live in the dilapidated subway tunnels underneath City 57.


    Because that¡¯s the only place where UBI is going to cover rent.


    Only problem is that you better get in good with the Gouging Clans. Otherwise, they¡¯ll rough you up and take everything but your clothes. And some will take those too. All in all, I was lucky getting off with my winter overcoat, but I tell ya, with several hurting ribs and a face more blue than a blueberry¡ªI didn¡¯t feel so lucky.


    Any minute now, I was expecting to see a pop-up on my phone¡ªdon¡¯t ask me how I hid it¡ªtelling me I was fired from my government assistance job. That was the only way this day could get any worse.


    And after all that, I just wanted a cheeseburger. A delicious, factory processed, greasy slab of meat loaded with preservatives and seed oils and heart palpitating chemicals. But a cheeseburger was five hundred credits. And I had jack.


    It was one of those times I wished I had a superpower. Yeah, getting placed on the Registry probably isn¡¯t all it¡¯s cracked up to be, but the cool stuff seems an even tradeoff. If I had super strength and bullet proof skin, I would¡ªwell, first I would get my fucking cheeseburger¡ªbut after that¡­ it wouldn¡¯t be dumpster diving for scraps.


    Hey, before you judge, try being a low priority for a while. You¡¯ll be eating banana peels within the week. But come to think of it, I haven¡¯t seen a banana in a long time. I wonder if they even import those anymore.


    I didn¡¯t know why I tortured myself, standing in that feces smelling restaurant that was barely big enough to cram ten people inside. I remember five years ago that some of these places were still served by people. At least then you could spill your heart out, and maybe, just maybe, they would give you some food. Not anymore. It was all automated these days. The guy taking orders was a tin-can with a zany mustache, and he wasn¡¯t programmed to hand out freebies. I thought automation was supposed to improve the economy? They keep saying they¡¯re hitting a record GDP.


    My stomach growled. I looked down at my phone. It was my very last possession of any worth. It was also the one thing connecting me to my E-ID. Funny story about that. Ten years ago they tried to transition over to completely electronic identity records, some whole newfangled system for tax purposes. But there was so much fraud they then keyed everyone¡¯s ID¡¯s to their phones, which was a whole nother mess.


    But long and short of it, the phone was the only reason I could get a job, make payments, and just keep on the struggle. But I gotta tell ya, when you haven¡¯t had anything to eat for three days, and you¡¯ve been drinking runoff from a gutter, it¡¯s hard to keep caring about the future. I was dizzy and tired, and I just wanted food. Oh how I just wanted something¡ªanything. One little, tiny¡­ delicious¡­ scrap of¡­


    You know what? Fuck the future Adam Mason! I just want a cheeseburger!


    ¡°Hey.¡± I tugged on some guy¡¯s coat. He was a balding man in his late forties. He hadn¡¯t shaved in a few days, but he was still looking a lot better than me. At least his clothes weren¡¯t covered in layers of caked sweat and dirt.


    I held up my phone. ¡°Get me a cheeseburger with fries and a soda. I¡¯ll trade you this.¡±


    The man glanced from the phone to me and then back to the phone. He shrugged his shoulders.


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡­


    Five minutes later, I was munching on the most delicious cheeseburger I ever had in my life. Fifteen minutes later, I was picking at the crumbs. Half an hour later, I was still licking the grease from the wrapper.


    I stayed in the restaurant for a full hour until the tin-can told me to buy something else or leave. I miss the days when being arrested guaranteed you a meal. Now they just throw you in a CitySec cell, and after that, it¡¯s off to the rehabilitation centers.


    I stepped out of the heated restaurant and into the very cold city. Winter was only halfway over. It would be a few months before things heated up again, and I didn¡¯t know which was worse. People really come out in the Summer months. There was a lot more gang fighting, a lot more violence. But I also just didn¡¯t like crowds. People swarmed, junkies hitting it up on street curbs, scammers trying to hawk baubles everywhere, and sweet mercy, the slop sellers.


    If you¡¯re a tourist and you¡¯re visiting City 57, take it from a guy who lives here. Anyone who¡¯s selling food on the street is trying to kill you.


    So while the cold sucked, I felt a lot more free during the winter. People are clannish, they give the evil eye to low priorities. During the winter, they don¡¯t care as much so long as you don¡¯t stick around wherever they¡¯re holing up.


    I didn¡¯t see many people as I walked down a street full of boarded up stores long converted into living spaces. The entire area was former medium to high rise buildings now shantytown. There weren¡¯t a lot of cars in this part of the city, though you could stop here with a reasonable expectation of not getting mobbed. It was poor, but it wasn¡¯t bad as some other parts of City 57.


    You could walk and feel like you¡¯re not being followed. And as it happened, walking was the only thing I could do while I went over options.


    A low priority vagrant in City 57 had few choices when he hit rock bottom, and at the top of that list were prostitution, gang-life, or enlistment. I suppose there was also rotation to the exclusion zones, but being handed a grubby hazmat suit and told to collect samples in a mutation area wasn¡¯t exactly my idea of fun. It was just marginally worse than getting shipped off to a forever war and told to fight some drugged up super soldier.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Gang-life wasn¡¯t a great option either, not for an outsider. You have to be born in it. Otherwise, you¡¯re little better than a disposable mule. I wasn¡¯t ready to start swallowing plastic bags full of synthetic cocaine. Besides, low priorities were cracked down on the hardest. Unlike everyone else, we weren¡¯t allowed to do crime.


    And, thinking long and hard about this, I didn¡¯t want to whore myself out either. I might not have much dignity left, but I knew there were some things too low for me to do.


    Suppose I take door number four and just try to rough it out? The Scavs got their own clans. You think you can just roll up into any empty building? Yeah, that¡¯s not how it works. There are territories, at least for the livable areas.Everywhere else is either too far from the hubs or full of asbestos, mold, and radioactive dust.


    Onto damn door number five, try my luck at the mugging game. If you weren¡¯t in a gang, that just put you on a timer, not that I had the build for it anyway. I was freaking 5¡¯5¡±! I wasn¡¯t going to be intimidating Miss Red Riding Hood, let alone anyone wandering City 57 alleyways!


    Door number six. Sell my body¡ªand not like door number three. They went hardcore in Manhattan. Illegal organ trade was alive and well down there. I didn¡¯t know whether the rumors of cannibalism were true, and I didn¡¯t want to know. But I knew they did ritual scarring and branding, some kind of Voodoo shit. They never show it on the news, but everyone knew you did not go into downtown if you could help it.


    I paused on the sidewalk, and honestly I needed a slap in the face. What the fuck was I even thinking? Selling my kidneys? That was the dumbest idea in the world! They¡¯re just going to carve you up when they have you under! And if I really was considering that, if things were really that bad, maybe¡­ it was time for door number eight, or whatever number I was on now. It didn¡¯t matter. There wasn¡¯t going to be another door after it.


    Groaning, I rubbed my head. I really did like that cheeseburger, but it was a crummy last meal. My feet dragged as I started walking to the nearest suicide clinic. I had always known they were going to get me eventually. I was just hoping it wasn¡¯t going to be today. I had a terrible life, but maybe at least I could go out quietly.


    ¡­


    ¡°What do you mean you won¡¯t kill me!?¡± I shouted at the obese woman manning the front counter. Her rolls of fat obscured the used office chair under her, and I¡¯ll spare you the rest of the details. Whatever your thinking¡ªit was worse.


    I had waited in a grungy clinic filled with mold and cracked blue wallpaper for three hours. The lobby stank, and half the lights had been blown out. They didn¡¯t have a tv for announcing ticket numbers, that would just get stolen. Instead, they paid a guy in a stained janitor uniform to do it. And I knew there was no fucking way he spoke English.


    And now this!


    ¡°You don¡¯t have your state mandated phone, sir.¡± The woman didn¡¯t hide the snark in her voice. ¡°No E-ID, no serum.¡±


    ¡°Why do you care about my E-ID!? You¡¯re supposed to kill me!¡± I slammed my hands on her plastic deskwhich had a screen of plastic taped to it.


    She clicked her teeth. ¡°Serum is in short supply. You want to die? Go jump into the East River. The cold water will kill you in a few minutes.¡±


    ¡°No! I wanna be shot up with morphine! I wanna be high as a kite before I die!¡±


    ¡°Suicide clinics are a privilege, sir, not a human right.¡±


    ¡°Screw you! You get to stuff your face because you¡¯re a high priority! The rest of us have to eat scraps from the street. Just let me die!¡±


    ¡°Sir, if you continue yelling, I¡¯ll be forced to call security. Either provide me with an E-ID or leave.¡±


    I gave her the middle finger as I stormed out of the clinic and back into the freezing streets of City 57. Pacing angrily, I didn¡¯t know whether I wanted to barge right back in there or run cursing down the street. It took me a good while to get my head clear¡ªas clear as it was going to get.


    Now it was on to door number nine, which was a variation of door number seven. I go to a junkie den and steal their drugs. Hopefully, they would have some fentanyl to overdose on. If not, well, I was going to go out in a blaze of glory one way or another.


    That was the second time that day I stopped in my tracks and realized just how screwed I was in the head. To be honest, it did not bother me one bit that my corpse was going to picked up by garbage collection and cremated. But that would¡¯ve bothered my parents, and that¡¯s strangely the thing that hurt worst.


    I don¡¯t remember when the nukes fell. I think I was two at the time. I remember growing up in refugee camps, and later, resettling into city-life. They always held their heads up high, and not in the pretentious way, which made them all the more insufferable. But they never seemed to get it¡ªthat their world was over.


    My mother sat me down in a tent and tried to go over the fifty American states with me. Yeah, they were that kind of people. But damn if something of them didn¡¯t rub off on me. I never was able to fit in wherever I went, even when I really wanted to be.


    Whenever I got food in my belly, I started thinking again. I started wanting something more again. And then¡­.


    I sighed, glancing back to the clinic. There was nothing stopping me from running back in there and jabbing myself with as much morphine as I could get my hands on. Let them do the work of tossing my body into the river. And part of me felt tempted to do that.


    But then there was the annoyingly reasonable side of me, the side that told me I wasn¡¯t going to make five feet before security would be on my ass. And it wasn¡¯t like I knew where they kept the morphine. Best case scenario, I wind up getting shot. That wasn¡¯t the worst way to go out, but that wasn¡¯t what I wanted either.


    Just above me was a news billboard covering the recent raid on something something street. It¡¯s always funny how they have to place those things like fifty feet in the air, otherwise someone will come around and try to scrap em for parts.


    But I watched the news broadcast. Yellow Bolt was holding some dude up by the hair, and he was smiling for the camera. Nighthawk didn¡¯t look too hot. I think he had a bad nose bleed or something, but he began flexing his nonexistent muscles.


    I gotta be honest, I didn¡¯t pay too much attention to them. But behind them, CitySec guys were carrying crates of stuff. They posed with confiscated AK-47s and explosives. Looked professional and shit too.


    And then I got one of my ideas¡ªone of the really awful ones. What were the chances CitySec missed something in their bust operation? What were the chances I could steal it? I knew where it was, but it was on the other side of the city. It would take all day to get down there, and I would have to get past the roadblocks and checkpoints CitySec would¡¯ve set up.


    ASA might be swarming around there too. They tended to do that, acting like they owned the city when technically their only jurisdiction was capturing abnormals. And those guys brought the really high-tech stuff¡­


    I shook my head of those thoughts. Okay, maybe it was a long shot. I would have to be on my A-game. But if I made it past the checkpoints, if I snuck in, if I found anything, and if I could get out¡­ Yeah, I know, a lot of ifs there, but¡­


    I just needed to get away with something I could barter. Maybe a discarded pistol or one of those food packages or even some clean water. And I could trade that for some drugs. Maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªmy dream of overdosing into the next life was still possible.


    But if I was going to get anything, I had to start moving there now. If there was anything left, it would be gone by tomorrow. And there were probably other people prowling around, thinking the exact same thing I did. I had to get there first, and I had to get out.


    My feet started moving on their own. It was one of those dumb ideas that was bound to get me killed, but for some reason, it just made me want to do it all the more. I wanted to do something that I wasn¡¯t allowed to do. Hey, I might¡¯ve even get on the news. I could just imagine the headline.


    Homeless vagrant killed in shootout. Took twenty guys with him and was an absolute badass.


    Oh, I really was fucked, but I giggled anyway. Gotta take it as it comes, you know? And besides, I had absolutely nothing left to lose.

 Chapter Four

    Daniel Peterson


    I stood in Walter¡¯s office with Yellow Bolt. The man himself wasn¡¯t present yet. He liked us to stew as we waited on the trouble side of the comically large mahogany desk. I stared dazed. I didn¡¯t know whether it was on purpose, but Walter¡¯s office was perfectly situated to let the afternoon sun shine in your eyes. The vertical glass panes did nothing to reduce the glare. It just aggravated my headache.


    Rob fidgeted around, scared of Walter¡¯s verbal lashing. I was just tired. I wanted to lie down and sleep it off. No, wait, I still had to go in the tank. I groaned. Getting choked on the street was bad enough, especially when there were people posting it on social media. It looked even worse because the guy was invisible. It probably looked like I was getting man-handled by a ghost.


    I threw up my hand to shield myself from the glare. It was getting really annoying now, especially since the only other thing I could look at Walter¡¯s large walls brimming with awards and memorabilia, faces and pictures of the Urban Defenders as they went and came on Walter¡¯s team. Did he have them there because he actually liked any of us? Or was it just for the image? I had no earthly idea.


    The door suddenly opened behind us, and Walter entered. A shudder went up my spine as I braced myself for what was next, but strangely, the insults never came. Instead, he quietly walked around his desk and sat down. The man rapped his fingers on the desk, holding our attention with every twitch and nod.


    ¡°We have an opportunity here,¡± Walter finally spoke.


    I felt the tension in the room melt into utter bewilderment. Yellow Bolt and I exchanged a confused glance, both afraid to ask the question.


    ¡°Oh, you screwed up, nothing new about that.¡± Walter waved his hand dismissively, noticing our confusion. ¡°But Nighthawk getting choked on the street works to our favor. He didn¡¯t have a reputation to burn, and since that stunt, the Urban Defenders have gotten a thirty-three percent uptick in engagement. And now¡­ we officially have our very own super villain.¡±


    ¡°The invisible guy?¡± I asked.


    Walter nodded, a delicious smile creeping up his lips. ¡°I¡¯ve told the media to call him The Ghost. We¡¯re going to get his face plastered on every billboard, television, and phone in the city. Tomorrow, he¡¯s going to be all the rage. Thousands of journalists are working right now to uncover every fact about this guy, and so far¡­ his background is a reporter¡¯s wet dream.¡±


    He pulled out his computer and began typing. ¡°Name is Seattle Vance. Ridiculous, but it¡¯s cheesy enough to work for us. Apparently, he was raised by New American extremists. It¡¯s a fad among them to name their kids after old American cities or states. He¡¯s a professional smuggler. Definitely not the thug we took him for. And more importantly, he¡¯s an abnormal not on the Registry. This guy has broken some serious laws.¡± Walter was grinning from ear to ear as he read it from the computer.


    ¡°So you¡¯re going to have your men track him down, and we fight it out?¡±


    Walter leaned back in his chair and threw up his hands. ¡°Bigger. We¡¯re going to do a full ensemble for this campaign: Atomic Girl, the Blue Justice, everyone. We need faces on the streets. I¡¯m going to have Cheryl write up story arcs for all of you. This one is going to be a team effort. We have to milk this for all its worth. City 57 needs this kind of excitement.¡±


    Great. I rolled my eyes. A whole story arc that began with me getting my lights punched out on the street. Can¡¯t wait for the sequel where I get my head shoved in a toilet.


    Walter saw my expression and his darkened. He pointed a finger at me. ¡°Do not screw this up for the Urban Defenders, or I¡¯ll make you wish you ended back in Gen Pop. Shut up, stick to your script, and do what I tell you. And if you can do that, I¡¯ll rent a plane for your stupid skydiving obsession. Got it?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Are we at least done for the evening?¡±


    ¡°Done?¡± Walter barked. ¡°You haven¡¯t even gotten started. You have a party to attend at nine. Big names are going to be there, the fund raising kind. And they¡¯re all going to want to hear about your encounter with the terrorist. Nighthawk, Cheryl is going to type up your story about the fight in the armored truck. By the time you exit this building, you better be able to recite it backwards. As for the rest of the team, you¡¯re going to talk up The Ghost as much as you can. Make him seem like a credible threat against the city. This is our big break. All goes well? We might might be looking at moving up to B Rank.¡±


    Yellow Bolt¡¯s shoulders stiffened. I could tell he was already on it. I just gave a weary salute. ¡°You got it, boss.¡±


    ¡°All right, get out. I have work to do. And no drinking until afterwards. I don¡¯t want another spaghetti night incident, Nighthawk.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not responsible for drunk Nighthawk. That guy¡¯s an ass.¡±


    ¡­


    I sat in the limo drinking a bottle of vodka. Walter can try all he likes, but it¡¯s damn near impossible to stop a guy who can teleport. Jayne sat opposite of me. I was in a superhero costume and he was in a tuxedo. I can¡¯t tell you how much I wanted to trade places with him.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t drink so much. You¡¯re going to slur your words.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just the authentic Nighthawk experience.¡± I raised the bottle, it was my third that night. That was another downside of being a superhero. I had the liver of an Irishman who had been bitten by a radioactive beer bottle.


    Jayne adjusted his black bowtie. ¡°It¡¯s also going to be bad for your health.¡±


    ¡°You think I care about my health? I wouldn¡¯t be in super hero business if I did.¡± I took another swig. ¡°After all, we¡¯ve got a super villain now. His name is The Ghost. Isn¡¯t that great? Just think of the views!¡± The sarcasm dripped from my mouth.


    ¡°I know,¡± Jayne said, genuinely.


    I sighed and put away the drink. I couldn¡¯t be mad at Jayne. Out of all of them, he was the only one who had a sense of honesty. Growing up, I drove all my previous handlers away. I tried to do the same with Jayne. Bottom of the barrel Jayne. The sixty-year-old man was only still in the business because he couldn¡¯t afford retirement. He was also the only man alive with a worse fashion sense than my costume designers. He wore a fedora unironically!


    He was also the only father I ever had.


    I straightened myself out. ¡°How do I look?¡±


    ¡°Not shitfaced yet at least.¡±


    I cracked a smile. ¡°Yet.¡±


    The limo came to a halt outside this fancy hotel. I looked out, and I saw the most detestable people in existence all lined up, ready to take photos and write articles. They weren¡¯t even the professional grifters. Those all went to the A-Rank heroes. We got the sloppy seconds.


    ¡°Try to make the most of it,¡± Jayne said. ¡°You¡¯re not them. Remember that.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, gritting my teeth as I steeled myself for what was to come.


    Jayne got out first and walked around the car to open the door for me. I was glad I was wearing a cowl so people couldn¡¯t see how embarrassed I was.


    Several times I had tried to show up to parties in regular clothing. That had gotten attention, but it drove Walter bonkers. He made Cheryl write this whole arc where I slowly accepted becoming a superhero and dressing like the rest.


    In truth, I hated it more than ever. The thing about superheroes is that they shouldn¡¯t be called super. A hero is already what most people aren¡¯t. That¡¯s why they are called a hero. Heaping more praise on that is vanity, and that was all I saw walking on the red carpet that night.


    Vanity, and the people who made their living off it.


    But that was still better than what greeted me inside. I walked into the lounge where I was taken up an elevator to the top floor. Up above on the roof was the upper crust elite. Not the upper upper class, just the guys who wanted to pretend they were. I saw that the rest of the team had already arrived. Small circles of people were gathered around them, but the swarm flocked to me.


    Before I even got the lay of the land, I was already being bombarded with questions. People in the most garish outfits not much more different than mine pushed in around me.


    ¡°What was your fight like with The Ghost?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the Urban Defender¡¯s next move?¡±


    ¡°Do you take autographs?¡±


    I don¡¯t want to talk about it. I don¡¯t know. And I¡¯m contractually obligated to. Those were the answers I was tempted to give. Instead, I had been handed a script and told to follow it. The humiliating encounter suddenly turned into an epic fight scene where I tangled with the terrorist in a knockout brawl with a knife. How did he get out of handcuffs? How did he get a knife? Who knew. Those were just the details you weren¡¯t supposed to squint at.


    He only got the upper hand because he pulled some epic martial arts Jiu Jitsu shit and forced me to teleport him out. At least that was less embarrassing than what actually happened.


    As for the next move of the Urban Defender¡¯s, that part was still being written by Cheryl. All I could give them was that we were going to be on the lookout for The Ghost and would be combing the city for him. That part was the worst lie. We wouldn¡¯t be doing anything. We were there for people to take pictures. The real team were the data analytics guys who were busy tracking down the perp while we were enjoying parties.


    It was astonishing to me that these people bought that lie. At least, it seemed most of them did. Those that worked in the business gave the usual wink and nod. But the rest? They were hanging off my every word. It would¡¯ve been one thing if it was all just an act, but they really bought it all. Nothing was more vomit-inducing than a liar who¡¯s bought his own bullshit, and I was surrounded by dozens of them.


    I gave out autographs as I usually did. It took me an hour before the line dwindled and I was finally free to get drinking. I found myself on a couch far away from the main party enjoying some whiskey. The buzz was finally hitting.


    ¡°You should take this more seriously.¡± The Blue Justice appeared in front of my hazy vision.


    I hated he got to be the leader of the team. Gifted with super strength and flight, he had everything I ever wanted. There wasn¡¯t a day that went by when I didn¡¯t envy him. He didn¡¯t deserve to be able to fly.


    ¡°I am taking this very seriously,¡± I replied. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to party right? Enjoy ourselves? I¡¯m just being relatable.¡±


    I went to take another swig, but The Blue Justice¡ªJohn¡ªswiped it right out of my hands. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to set an example. We¡¯re supposed to be better.¡±


    I was trying to be controlled, but taking my drink really ticked me off. ¡°If you were trying to set an example, you would be out looking for the guy. Or are you just going to let everyone else do that work for you?¡±


    The Blue Justice leaned in close, and I noticed he was only handsome in a very feminine way. Yeah, he had a good jawline but his face was uncannily smooth and he was clearly wearing makeup. He didn¡¯t have muscles despite his super strength. Why bother working out if you¡¯re already the strongest guy in the room? In fact. he was just as thin as I was. His curly hair gave him an almost tomboy appearance. I could easily believe he was just a very masculine woman if not for his voice.


    ¡°For once in your life, act like a superhero. This is big. Don¡¯t ruin it for the rest of the team.¡±


    ¡°And just for once in your life, stop kissing Walter¡¯s ass. You¡¯re in his fucking upper intestine.¡±


    The Blue Justice grabbed my throat, and I instantly teleported us outside the building. We were floating in the air some fifty feet away from the hotel. He had to grab my arm, otherwise he would¡¯ve accidentally snapped my neck.


    The wind whistled by with the distant noise of the city.


    ¡°Go ahead.¡± I sighed. ¡°Drop me. See what happens when the reporters get their hands on this drama. Or are you going to turn that into another story arc? About how I betrayed the team for The Ghost?¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t you just play along?¡± John asked. ¡°Is that too much to ask?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me to lie. I¡¯ll play nice for this campaign, I promise. Just don¡¯t ask me to act like we¡¯re the good guys.¡±


    At this point, I was too drunk to care who was listening in on the watch.


    The Blue Justice seemed hurt by this, but he was only concerned for appearances, much like Walter. He may not have agreed with me, in fact he vehemently hated me, but he also needed me for this arc. He nodded his head, and I teleported us back to the couch like nothing happened.


    ¡°Enjoy the party.¡± I swiped my drink back. ¡°Just leave me out of it.¡±


    He left back to his adoring fans, and I continued drinking myself to death. Why not? I had nothing I wanted to live for, and nobody wanted me. They only wanted the juicy drama they could squeeze from Nighthawk.


    It didn¡¯t feel like I was even real anymore.


    ¡­


    The night was carrying on, and I vaguely noticed Atomic Girl approaching me. Her power was being able to create green force fields and launch energy blasts. I suppose the name sort of fit. It was better than Nighthawk at least. That was another problem with superheroes. All the good names were copyrighted. What even was a Nighthawk?


    ¡°Hey,¡± she said.


    ¡°What do you want, Sarah?¡± I asked, a little more rudely than I intended.


    She looked down at the floor. ¡°Could you do me a favor?¡±


    I sat up, knowing the real reason behind her request. I took off my watch and dropped it in a nearby champagne bucket. She didn¡¯t have a watch on her. She had the convenient excuse that electronics malfunctioned in close proximity. I don¡¯t know whether that was true, but it worked for the execs. Meanwhile, they could think me and her were in a secret relationship all they want. It made good headlines anyway.


    Not that I wouldn¡¯t date her. She was cute, blond hair, and a heart-shaped face, and a perfect figure. She was beautiful in every way that mattered for social media, but should the day ever come where I decide to make a move, it wasn¡¯t going to be in front of a masturbating audience.


    ¡°Could you teleport me to floor forty-three?¡± she asked.


    I placed my hand on hers, and we were there. I also brought along my whiskey, but the bottle was just for me. I stumbled over to a nearby corner and enjoyed my drink. Atomic Girl brought out a small flip phone and texted.


    An older women approached pushing a cleaning cart. She worked as a cleaning lady for the hotel because it was a spot Walter often chose to host the Urban Defenders. The little known secret was that she was Sarah¡¯s mother. I envied Atomic Girl for that, having a parent that cared for her.


    Sarah was an ASA kid, confiscated and then bought right out of the holding facility. Don¡¯t know the details, but somehow she managed to reconnect with her mother. Or maybe it was another way around. I didn¡¯t want to pry too deeply into the story.


    The two hugged each other and darted out of the hallway into one of the nearby rooms. That was all I wanted to see before I teleported into another empty room to enjoy my drink. They would have fifteen minutes before I would come back for her. It was just too dangerous to have her out of sight for any longer. Not to mention, Blue Justice would soon get the word and search for us.


    I drank my whiskey, wondering where my parents were¡ªwhether they were still in the Protective Parent program or not. I don¡¯t remember their faces. I doubt they would recognize me if they saw me on social media or the news. How could they? It had been so long by now. Speaking of which, there was a good chance I had brothers and sisters I didn¡¯t know about¡ªmaybe even half brothers and sisters.


    Or maybe they got sent back to Gen Pop after I was taken to Super Camp. Who knew? It didn¡¯t matter. I didn¡¯t have a rat¡¯s ass of a chance of meeting them again anyway. I wasn¡¯t angry about it anymore. I used to be, but I¡¯m not now.


    The world was spinning from the alcohol, and I didn¡¯t know why it didn¡¯t make me feel good like it used to.


    I just wanted to fall. I wanted to fall so long and so far that my worries would be no more. I wanted to fall to the ends of the Earth. Only there I could be happy. I toyed with that dream while Atomic Girl and her mother had their fifteen minutes before I would come and whisk her daughter away.


    There was nothing I wanted to be more than being normal. Not because superheroes are terrible but because we weren¡¯t superheroes. We were celebrities dressed up in costumes. Maybe I could forgive Walter if I could save the world, but as it was, I couldn¡¯t even save her. I was a walking advertisement and nothing more.


    Maybe I could accept that life. I probably would drink myself to death first, but maybe I could die happy. If only I could save anyone from this life we lived, maybe then it would¡¯ve all been worth it¡­

 Chapter Five

    Seattle Vance


    ¡°I want to know how they found us.¡± I demanded, nursing a beer on the couch. ¡°Before I take a step out that door, I want to know exactly what happened. Otherwise, our deal is off.¡±


    ¡°You think it¡¯s my job to sort out your fuck up?¡± The audio distorted voice of Joker spoke from the laptop. ¡±I don¡¯t know how they found you, and from where I stand, it doesn¡¯t matter. Your team is either captured or dead. The job¡¯s off.¡±


    It was frustrating, not even seeing the face of the guy. On the laptop¡¯s screen was a logo of a stylized joker card. The jester wore two masks, one smiling and the other frowning. That was all that I was allowed to talk to.


    ¡°The team wasn¡¯t important. It was the muscle. That¡¯s still in play; I can still do this.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Joker barked a laugh. ¡°Because my enzyme is currently in the floorboards of a CitySec crime scene. How are you going to get that out?¡±


    I bit back a curse. I had no idea how Joker knew about where I stashed the enzyme. He had eyesand ears everywhere.


    ¡°You¡¯re talking to a guy who can go invisible. I¡¯ll work it out. Now as for compensation¡ª¡±


    ¡°Compensation!?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, because if you still want this to go down, we¡¯re going to need some assurances going forward. I lost good people today, and what¡¯s left of my guys are booking it to City 35. First, I want new IDs with full bank accounts for their trouble. Second¡ª¡±


    ¡°You assured me your services were pay on completion! And from your previous job, I thought you were professional enough to finish our arrangement without incurring additional expenses. You aren¡¯t getting¡ª¡±


    Joshua came up from behind the laptop and slammed it shut with the palm of his hand. I looked at him with a dour expression.


    ¡°He was running a tracer through the signal. Started the moment you began the call.¡± Joshua explained. ¡°He was going to send someone to finish the job.¡±


    My heart fell in my chest, and I set the beer beside me.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know he double-crossed us. The trace doesn¡¯t prove anything,¡± I replied, but I knew if Joshua said it, then he already had proof.


    ¡°Yeah? Well, I did some digging through the CitySec servers. Guess what? One of their auto-seeker drones suddenly received new instructions. It updated its patrolling route¡ªright over your exact location. And here¡¯s the kicker, your building was flagged for interest before it even took flight. Someone tampered with the code so it would pay very special attention to your hideout.¡±


    ¡°So the motherfucker scrapped us? Just like that?¡± I groaned, running my hands through my hair in disbelief. ¡°He called CitySec on us? Why?¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s cause he found out about your past. Maybe it¡¯s cause he just got jumpy. But in any case, I just want to say I told you so.¡± Joshua pointed at me angrily. ¡°I warned you not to do business with the Checkered Hand. Those guys don¡¯t play it by the seat of their pants. They don¡¯t take risks. And they love fucking over guys like us.¡±


    ¡°But you really think he would sacrifice the enzyme?¡± I asked Joshua, still trying to make it make sense in my head.


    Joshua threw up his hands. ¡°The enzyme is fucking peanuts to people like them! Besides, he probably has insiders in CitySec to retrieve it for him. He already knew where it was!¡±


    I downed the rest of my beer, stewing in my own anger. It never gets easy¡ªbeing disposed of that is. I remember back in 2081 when Cairo kicked off. The Democratic Union had shit their pants when one of their bio-labs was seized by insurrectionists. They promised pardon and citizenship to any abnormal willing to get shipped off. Two bloody years of grueling urban fighting, and for what?


    For provisional citizenship? Of getting hounded by regulations and restricted movement, only to get thrown right back into Gen Pop at the slightest inconvenience to our benevolent overlords?


    I glanced back up to Joshua. He was the only friend left from my childhood¡ªone of the few who knew the real me. Back when there was a real me to know.


    The red-haired computer geek looked like a textbook case of anorexia going on in his thirties. I knew he didn¡¯t eat much, though he said it was to avoid the sterilizers they apparently put in the food supply. Joshua had sunken eyes and a long, hawkish nose. Combined with his pale skin, you might think he was a gremlin who had never seen sunlight. Didn¡¯t dress to impress either. He wore a faded t-shirt and trousers.


    He wore glasses too, crooked, with a weird film on them. He had taken that filter thing out of his computer screens so only he could see what he was working on.


    Joshua was more paranoid than a schizophrenic, but I always liked him. Even when he was being an ass.


    ¡°Seattle, I don¡¯t need this. You roll up in my town talking big about a heist on the ASA, and now half the city is lit up!¡± Joshua tore into me, more than a little pissed off. He flipped on the tv with his remote. The news was plastered with my face. ¡°The Ghost, a New American Extremist come to liberate the people! That shit is all over the airwaves! Seattle, I don¡¯t need your drama. I don¡¯t want anything to do with the Checkered Hand or ASA or any of it! Listen, you¡¯re going to stay here, stay low, while I fix your mess. I¡¯ll make a few calls and get you out of the city. And then I never want to see your fucking face again!¡±


    ¡°Out of the city?¡± I quickly glanced up at him. ¡°I¡¯m going for that enzyme, and then I¡¯m going to finish what I started.¡±


    Joshua¡¯s face was red. He was always like that when he got hilariously mad. ¡°What!? Are you insane!?¡±


    ¡°You have connections here. Get in my touch with the Index. I want to assemble a new crew. One that can take the licks.¡±


    ¡°Back up! Back up!¡± Joshua yelled at me. ¡°You aren¡¯t going to do shit! Not while you¡¯re bunking with me. You aren¡¯t going to blow things up like you always do!¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, you know I¡¯m good for it.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck does that even mean!?¡± Joshua shook his head, pacing as he was about to boil over. ¡°Oh, this is so you. You always fuck things up to eleven. Did you really have to make a last stand? Did you really have to choke out one of the Urban Defenders on the street? Couldn¡¯t you just have waited to make a quick getaway? You made yourself a celebrity on purpose, didn¡¯t you? Why is it always like this Seattle? Why do you keep blowing shit up!? Why can¡¯t you just stay low for once!?¡±


    ¡°You know that¡¯s not how I play.¡± I glowered at the tv.


    ¡°Well, how you play has got every CitySec officer on the street looking for your ass. And since you¡¯re here, that means they¡¯re looking for me as well. Fuck Seattle. You did everything to plant a big red bullseye on yourself, and for what?¡±


    I looked up at him square in the eye. ¡°I¡¯m not going to live like a coward.¡±


    A flash of real anger finally passed through Joshua¡¯s eyes. I wasn¡¯t trying to imply anything, but those words cut.


    Joshua had spent his days building the mother of all safehouses. He lived underground behind three steel doors and a big ass turret that fired fifty caliber bullets. We were in an old subway tunnel turned into a living space. Electric lights were haphazardly strung across the concrete ceiling. There were sofas with the old subway rails as footrests. Wires and cables sprung out of pipes that were connected to the building above.


    One of the walls was covered in computer monitors and screens and all get out, not that I understood much of it. From his cozy hiding spot, he had fingers in nearly all of the city¡¯s digital infrastructure.


    But he also never left his hole. I didn¡¯t know whether the life he chose was worth living, but I knew it wasn¡¯t for me.


    ¡°Fine.¡± I stood up from the couch, brushing myself down. ¡°You want me gone? I¡¯ll go. I¡¯m a big kid. I can take the heat from CitySec, and then I¡¯m going to get what I came here for.¡± I turned to head up the stairs. I made it up three steps before I heard Joshua call out behind me.


    ¡°Wait!¡± He shouted. ¡°You won¡¯t last five seconds out there.¡± I turned around and saw Joshua with his arms crossed, gritting his teeth. He stamped his foot twice as I saw him process a million thoughts a second.


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    Finally, he gave one last disgusted glance at me. ¡°Was that really going to be your exit? After everything?¡±


    ¡°You know why this job was important to me. You know why I¡¯m here in City 57. You know I can¡¯t quit.¡±


    Joshua rubbed his head like he was trying to squeeze out all the frustration. ¡°Listen Vance, I know¡­ But even before, you didn¡¯t have a prayer¡¯s chance of pulling a heist on the ASA headquarters. Let it go.¡±


    My eyes fell to the floor. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    Joshua gave a long groan. But I knew he was going to help me, even if he complained all the way through. Because at the end of the day, he owed me one. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan here? You¡¯re going to hire a bunch of street thugs? Take on the biggest and baddest people in City 57? Are you going to inject yourself with the enzyme? Was it meant for you?¡±


    I cracked a smile. ¡°You know me. I¡¯ve never been suicidal.¡±


    ¡°So your plan was to have someone else die for you? I know class five superpowers are tempting, but¡­¡±


    ¡°I had a guy, but he got his head blown off. But hey, it¡¯s City 57. There¡¯s bound to be at least one crazy person who wants to burn it down.¡± I turned for the exit again. ¡°But clocks ticking. You said it yourself. Joker probably has people to retrieve the enzyme. I need to get it before they do.¡±


    ¡°Fine, go. We¡¯ll talk later, just make sure I don¡¯t see your face on the cams.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I said as I disappeared from the room. ¡°I¡¯ll be a ghost.¡±


    ¡­


    As I invisibly jogged down the dark, evening streets of City 57, I saw they were still running my face on the giant billboards. It was actually pretty funny. The news calling me a New American Extremist gave me a chuckle. They were probably already typing up my manifesto. In truth, I wasn¡¯t an extremist anything. That was just the background Joker gave me for the job.


    Our plan had been a false flag attack on the ASA regional headquarters. Joker wanted it destroyed, and I needed something in the building. I thought that meant our goals aligned, but apparently he didn¡¯t see it that way.


    Don¡¯t get me wrong. Seattle is my name, but it¡¯s not because of some patriotic bullshit or whatever. We had these codenames my brother and I used while we were holing up in City 58. It was the kind of stupid shit kids make up. Anyways, after changing my identity so many times, Seattle was the one thing that stuck. And my brother was Phoenix.


    Before I could go down memory lane, I stopped the images in my head. Remembering would only distract me now. Instead, I tried to focus on my surroundings. It¡¯s interesting how free the world becomes when you¡¯re invisible. We all live our lives by rules, where to go, what to say, who to do. Having invisibility meant I could step out of that for a few hours.


    ¡°The Ghost¡± was actually a good nickname for what it felt like. I had left the land of the living, and for once, I could breathe easy. It felt safe, like no one could touch me because they didn¡¯t even know I existed. I wondered if that was what dead people actually felt like, to feel totally and completely safe.


    I jogged right past the CitySec checkpoints, waving at them as I went by. It took no more than thirty minutes, and I stood in front of the apartment building where it all went down.


    It had once been a luxury high-rise if you can believe it. Looters got their hands on it in the chaos after the bombs fell. Now it was just a dilapidated grey building among countless dilapidated grey buildings in City 57. Walking up the front steps, I took a look inside the lobby. The windows were all shattered, and the furniture was either gone, soiled, or broken. Everything had a coat of dirt on it, and the carpet was just nasty.


    And that was what it looked like before. Now the whole area was littered with the aftermath of the battle. Bullet holes and scorch marks and chunks of rubble were strewn across the room.


    I noticed several CitySec guards standing in the doorways and guarding the entrances. Drones buzzed around, but the whole operation looked fairly low security. They didn¡¯t think I would be back.


    I decided for another point of entry, and I strolled around the building to a nearby alleyway. There was a side entrance for food delivery, and the lock was busted. I crept up the steps and entered the hollow remains of a hotel kitchen. I left the door open to let the dim, evening light inside, and I walked through. Peeping out into a grungy hallway, I saw several more men standing around smoking and chatting.


    I crouched down even though I was perfectly invisible. Maybe I was being too paranoid, but I was always worried for the day if my invisibility should switch off. I remember when I was a teenager. I was washing my hands when I first went invisible. It was so quick and sudden, freaked me out bad. Now, I didn¡¯t want to be caught with my pants down if I turned visible right in front of CitySec. Besides, crouching made it easier to conceal noise.


    I waved my invisible arm over my eyes a few times before continuing. I slowly made my way around the officers and into the carpeted hallway. The area was bad, but it wasn¡¯t awful. I made it a rule never to base near the homeless again¡ªand especially never a drug den. Once I nearly had my head blown off by a meth-head. He thought I was Abraham Lincoln back for revenge.


    Finally, going a long ways down, I made it to the apartment. Thankfully, there weren¡¯t any more guards nearby. Checking inside the living room and the two bedrooms, I saw that the CitySec confiscated everything. It was downright frustrating. The government was painstakingly slow in everything but taking your stuff. Well, there was no use crying about it.


    I took out a crowbar and got to work. I had to do this slowly and carefully so as to not make a racket. Prying up the floorboards, I winced each time the wood cracked and split. I kept my ears open for footsteps down the hall, ready to bash my invisible crowbar against someone¡¯s head if they decided to get too curious. It was tedious work, but I had soon pried open a hole. Below that was a gap containing a sleek metal box.


    On the top was an indicator for temperature, and I verified that the refrigeration was still working properly. I breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was untouched. CitySec never knew what had been right under their feet. I grabbed the box and lifted it up. That was when I heard the wood creak behind me.


    ¡­


    A homeless guy sprawled out on the floor below me. He had tried to come at me with a metal pipe, but I caught it and swung the metal box at his face. Bam. He dropped to the floor like a stone. He was still moving though, gotta give him some credit. His fingers shakily wiped away the blood where his forehead had split open. He looked up at me and stumbled to his knees. He was in between me and my exit, but that didn¡¯t matter so much to me. I had him exactly where I wanted him.


    ¡°Today is just not your day, man,¡± I said, resting the metal pipe on his shoulder, keeping him down.


    Homeless guy coughed. ¡°How the fuck did you see me coming?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t. But you¡¯re not the first one who¡¯s tried to ambush me. How about you move over to the other room, and we can part ways.¡±


    The vagrant took issue with that. He lunged at me, and I hit him with the pipe, swinging so I would hit his chin like a golf club. He dropped to the floor again, groaning in pain. I was surprised I didn¡¯t dislocate his jaw. I was even more surprised when he got back up.


    ¡°Damn,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s two for two, and you still got some gas in ya. You got spirit, but I¡¯m on the clock, and I would prefer you to get out of my way. So go to the corner, or I¡¯ll hit you again.¡±


    The vagrant spat out blood, and his face was messed up. I mean, it was messed up earlier, but I had done some damage. It actually made me feel bad.


    This guy was in rough shape from a rough life. He had dark, gaunt eyes that made it look like he hadn¡¯t slept in days. His face was dirty and bruised, and underneath the beard and all the scruff, I¡¯m sure it was worse. But there was something soft and round in his features. He looked like a beat puppy¡ªthat was the best way I could put it.


    ¡°Come on, man.¡± I tapped him with the metal pipe. ¡°It ain¡¯t worth it. Just go to the corner.¡±


    ¡°I thought¡­ it was interesting,¡± the vagrant muttered, half delirious in the pain. ¡°I saw the floorboards being pried up by an invisible man. Why would the Ghost come back to his own crime scene?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s for me to know and you to forget. Come on.¡±


    ¡°Must¡¯ve something pretty good in that box.¡± The homeless guy choked and gasped. ¡°Listen, you seem like a reasonable guy. How about you give it to me, and I¡¯ll let you go.¡±


    I burst out chuckling, and I waved the metal pipe at him. ¡°You¡¯re a funny one. Now, please.¡± I pointed the metal pipe at the corner.


    The homeless guy looked up at me, and I saw his eyes filled with rage, like a mad dog. His lips and teeth were red with blood, and he snarled. ¡°No.¡±


    I shook my head at this insane guy and tried to step around him. He grabbed my leg, and I swung the metal pipe on his shoulder as hard as I could. The homeless guy crumpled, but he still held on.


    ¡°Let go man, it isn¡¯t worth it.¡±


    ¡°You think you know¡­ you don¡¯t know¡­¡± The vagrant gasped, spitting out more blood. ¡°I¡¯m done being fucked with. You! CitySec! This whole fucking city! I¡¯m done! Gimme the box or kill me!¡± He yelled too loudly for my comfort, and I hit him again.


    I pummeled the guy with the metal pipe, but he clung on like a madman. He was screaming and hollering as I laid into him. I beat him within an inch of life, and he still held on. Eventually, I had to stop. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to hurt him again. I know I¡¯m not a good person, but even I have my limits.


    The homeless guy breathed raggedly, and I knelt down to him, keeping my ears open for anyone who might¡¯ve heard the racket.


    ¡°I can¡¯t take it anymore. I-I can¡¯t¡ª¡± The man sobbed at my feet. ¡°It¡¯s not fair. It¡¯s not¡­¡± He clung onto me as if I was his only hope, as if I was an angel and hadn¡¯t beaten him bloody.


    Look, I don¡¯t know why I do the crazy things I do. But I know rage when I see it. I know that black pit of despair that just swallows you up from the inside. I know a broken man when I see one. And while I was planning on using the enzyme on myself, I knew someone else deserved that shot¡ªto take all that hatred out.


    Or maybe that was me rationalizing it. As I said, I don¡¯t know why I do the things I do. But I couldn¡¯t look at this man¡ªthis broken pile of skin and bones¡ªand not see myself in him. I didn¡¯t know anything about him, but I had been on the other side of that ass whooping. I had reality punch me in the gut and leave me crawling in a gutter.


    And when you look up, there¡¯s nothing like that hate that burns you inside.


    I found myself setting the metal box down and dialing the combination. There was a hiss as multiple latches unlocked. The top flipped open, revealing a single blue syringe padded by white foam. I glanced up, knowing I was about to sign this poor guy¡¯s death warrant. But hey, at least it would be one helluva way to go out.


    Without another thought, I jammed it into his neck and pushed the plunger. The vagrant¡¯s legs kicked as the enzyme went in him.


    ¡°Listen to me very carefully, in that dose is a sedative and a paralytic to boot. Don¡¯t try to fight it. As for what¡¯s gonna happen next, well¡­ I don¡¯t know if you want this. You can blame me all you want. You can try to come after me too, and there¡¯s nothing I could do to stop you. But from now on, you¡¯re on the clock.¡±


    The vagrant tried to speak, but the enzyme was kicking in. He could only open and shut his mouth.


    ¡°Most you got is maybe a week left to live, and you don¡¯t want to waste that time chasing a ghost. The good news is that you¡¯re going to be able to do whatever you want. You may think I¡¯m yanking your chain, but it¡¯s true. Now, I¡¯m not one to offer advice often, but I¡¯m going to give you a little suggestion before you depart for dreamland.¡±


    I looked him in the eye. ¡°Remember the Democratic Union, and all they did to fuck you over. You keep that in mind.¡±


    The homeless guy sputtered out some dribble, but the light was fading from his eyes fast. He slumped over and his breathing slowed. I stood up and brushed myself off.


    Today had been a really bad day, but at least someone was going to wake up tomorrow with a better one.

 Chapter Six

    Adam Mason


    I woke up in a crowded jail cell with an agonizing headache. It was dark and there was piss and feces all over the floor. They didn¡¯t bother to clean their drunk tanks anymore. Why should they? It would just be a waste of budget. I pushed myself upright against the wall with my feet. I tried to ignore the foul smell as much as I could, even though I was covered in it.


    Rubbing my face with my hands, I accidentally pulled on my cuffs and snapped them apart. They couldn¡¯t even be bothered to give me a pair of decent shackles. I rested my head on the concrete wall, waiting for the pain to stop so I could think again.


    It was weird though. I expected my entire body to be hurting. I had taken beatings like that before, and I knew how it felt afterwards. But I didn¡¯t feel the jolts of shaking agony with every movement. In fact, all that really hurt was my headache. It felt like I had gone three days without any water.


    I moaned as I tried to will the pounding migraine to go away. And in between the head splitting thrums of pain, I remembered bits and pieces of last night.


    Why had I been so stupid? Yeah, you should¡¯ve gone to the corner like the Ghost had asked. Being put in timeout for a few minutes didn¡¯t seem nearly as humiliating now. I don¡¯t even know why I antagonized him. Something in me just boiled over. I had tried so hard, and all I got for it was getting my ass handed to me¡ªagain.


    Now, I was under arrest. My chances of shooting it up were now properly ruined. It would be off to a forced labor camp, or worse, enlistment.


    I swear, if they handed me a gun, I was just going to blow my head off. I thought the fast-food joint was rock bottom, but here I was, finding new lows to sink every day. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my blurred vision. My mouth was so dry. I needed some water, and I knew I wasn¡¯t going to get it anytime soon.


    Looking this way and that, I saw there were two sides of the cell. There was some chatter among the more mentally stable side of the prisoners. These were the criminals and low-lifes who were stupid enough to get caught. They huddled together like a pack of dogs marking out their territory. The other half was relegated to the other side, filled with muttering schizophrenics and blown out junkies.


    At this point, I honestly didn¡¯t know which I belonged to.


    More flashes of last night came to me in piecemeal. Fucker had injected something in my neck. I lifted my hand to find the wound, but I couldn¡¯t find anywhere that hurt more than the rest. What had he been talking about? Something about¡­ I groaned again as the migraine worsened. I couldn¡¯t recall any of it.


    All I knew was that whatever he did was hurting me bad, and I wanted it to stop. I was scared that he might¡¯ve given me one of those newfangled OB drugs. ArmsTek apparently makes them. One shot chemically alters your body for life. Turns you into a permanent addict.


    They were talking about using it to minimize the risk of abnormals, but it wasn¡¯t hard to read between the lines. The Democratic Union was always looking for new ways of enforcing compliance,


    I sighed. If it was, there was nothing I could do about it. But wasn¡¯t I thinking of killing myself a day ago? Why did that scare me if I was planning on biting the bullet anyway? And besides, why would the Ghost waste something like that on me? None of it made any sense, and I realized there was nothing I could do but wait.


    Fuck, I hoped that needle at least had been clean.


    ¡­


    It wasn¡¯t long before a CitySec officer opened the door to the cell. He looked at me and jammed his thumb toward the hallway. I shambled up and walked over to the officer. I think the headache was getting a little better, though I still felt nauseous.


    ¡°What happened to your cuffs?¡± The man asked.


    I weakly shrugged. ¡°They broke.¡±


    The officer snorted, but he didn¡¯t press me on it. He led me down a long hallway made of cheap cinder blocks. The lighting was flickering overhead, and we passed by cells that were somehow worse than the one I had been in. He led me to a room with a lone metal table with two chairs on either end. Sitting on the opposite side was another man, dressed with the cheap suit of a bureaucrat.


    He was balding badly, and just from first glance, I knew he was a slimy weasel. I had met guys like him before, people who worked their way to the highest position a low priority could hope for in the Democratic Union: preying on other low priorities. That¡¯s what interrogators were for, putting their boot down on the detestable.


    I was taken to the other seat and shoved down in it. I was still dizzy, and it took a moment for my eyes to refocus.


    The man had a small blue folder in front of him. He didn¡¯t open it. ¡°You¡¯re charged with trespassing on a crime scene and public intoxication.¡±


    I stared at him for a minute, just trying to think. I was still processing everything that had happened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, how is it public intoxication if it was on a crime scene?¡± I said dazedly.


    Before anyone yells at me for being a smart-ass, I just want to say I was not in the right frame of mind when I asked that question.


    But you know, there wasn¡¯t any point in disputing the charges. There was no technicality I could use, no appeal I could make, not beyond the interrogator¡¯s whims anyway. The charge may as well have been nailed to my chest. Still, I was kind of annoyed that it wasn¡¯t even accurate to what I did. Trespass? Sure. Getting high? I was beaten like a dog than I had a fucking needle shoved in my neck! That was not my fault!


    The small man glared at me. He had a pencil-thin mustache which was really close to his lip. Really pissed me off for some reason.


    ¡°You have two options, Mr. Mason. You can take this to court as is your right as a citizen of the Democratic Union. If you do so, I will press the maximum charges. Or you can waive that right, and you¡¯ll be given a lighter sentence of eight years hard labor.¡±


    The options might have been death and slightly longer death for all the good it did to me. And while I wanted to off myself, neither of those was appealing in the slightest. If I got out of this, I was seriously considering taking the suicide clerk¡¯s advice and jumping into the river.


    ¡°Listen.¡± I slid my chair back so he wouldn¡¯t have to smell my soiled clothes. ¡°This was all a big misunderstanding. Can¡¯t you cut a guy a break here? I don¡¯t have any money. I just lost the place I lived. I don¡¯t have anything. Please, I¡¯m begging you, let me walk out of those doors, and I won¡¯t bother anyone again. I swear.¡±


    I really pleaded with the man. I¡¯m not one to grovel, but if he asked me to get on my hands and knees, I would¡¯ve done so in a heartbeat. I just needed a break, just one measly break in this miserable life of mine.


    ¡°These are the consequences of your actions, Mr. Mason. Perhaps you should¡¯ve thought of that before breaking the law.¡± He didn¡¯t even bother hiding the snark from his voice. He reached into his briefcase and brought out a single sheet of paper. ¡°Now, I need you to sign this confessing that you are indeed guilty, and you can start serving your eight years.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on!¡± I yelled at him. ¡°Eight years! For what!? I didn¡¯t hurt anyone! I didn¡¯t steal anything!¡±


    Okay, that last part was kind of bullshit. I did kind of trespass to steal something. And you know what, maybe I was a bad person. Maybe I absolutely deserved everything that shat on my entire life. Maybe I was the kind of guy who deserved to go to prison. I don¡¯t know anymore.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    But I did know that was not the reason I was in here. I¡¯ve seen high priorities get away with fucking murder.


    And the look this guy gave me told me, yes, this was not about what I had done. Rather, it was the unthinkable crime of making his life a little more tedious, and behind his bored expression, I could tell he was privately grinning from ear to ear. These guys didn¡¯t do what they did to survive. They liked it. They took pleasure in putting people down. Maybe that was the only type of person who could do this sordid job.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this. I¡¯ll do anything. Anything.¡±


    The interrogator clicked a pen and tapped the document. ¡°Make this difficult, and I¡¯ll bump it up.¡±


    ¡°Please¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ten years it is.¡±


    ¡°Just hold on¡ª¡±


    ¡°Twelve.¡±


    ¡°Let me just say¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fifteen.¡±


    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake!¡± I slammed my hands on the table. ¡°Shut up! Just shut up!¡±


    The interrogator fell backwards in his chair to the floor. He scrambled back with an abject look of terror on his face. I was confused, and I looked down. The sturdy metal table now had two very large dents in it. I held up my hands in front of me as if they had become magic. In a daze, I reached for the cuffs on my wrist. I peeled them off as if they were paper.


    I was standing there shell-shocked when I registered that the interrogator was screaming into his radio.


    ¡°We have an abnormal! There¡¯s an abnormal in this room! Get backup! Get backup in here fucking now!¡±


    Still stunned, I walked over to the interrogator and swiped his radio away. I crushed it with my bare hand, letting the scrap fall to the ground.


    I had super powers. Huh.


    It¡¯s honestly like becoming a kid again. I remember on the playground we¡¯d all pretend that we could fly or lift heavy objects or shape shift. And when you grow up, you realize you can¡¯t do those things. You¡¯ll never be able to do those things. And while other people lead amazing lives, you got the short end of the stick. You lead a miserable life in a miserable world surrounded by people equally miserable to you, and all the while, you look up in the sky, seeing other people doing the things you can only fantasize about in your wildest dreams.


    A switch went off in my head. I can¡¯t remember the last time I was giddy about anything, but I giggled in that interrogation room. I cackled maniacally and laughed and laughed and laughed. I¡¯m sure I frightened the interrogator to death, seeing the homeless man develop super strength and then giggling like a madman. Well, he could stay scared. I could kill with my bare hands.


    A CitySec officer burst through the door and shot me. He shot me square in the chest three times.


    I barely felt it. Glancing down, I reached up to my soaked shirt and peeled the bullets off my skin one by one. They didn¡¯t even leave welts. It took me another moment to come to my senses of the situation.


    I looked at the officer very seriously. ¡°Now, I know you¡¯re just doing your job, and that¡¯s why I don¡¯t mind that you just tried to put three holes in me. But I¡¯m going to tell you right now, if you try to shoot me again, I will rip your arms off.¡±


    The officer shakily dropped his pistol and ran hollering down the hall. I knew that I had a very short timeframe to take advantage of the chaos. I walked over to the interrogator, who was huddling over in a corner, praying to whatever god he knew.


    I knelt over him, grinning. ¡°Give me one reason why I should let you live.¡±


    ¡°Please¡ª¡±


    I ran my arm through his chest. He gasped and sputtered and moaned, and then he was dead. I¡¯m not going to lie. That felt good. Even so, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to look him in the eye when I killed him. I¡¯m not a killer. Well, I¡¯m not someone who enjoys killing. I stood up, blood dripping down my arm, suddenly regretting that I killed him.


    That was when three more men with riot gear appeared in the room. I suppose that was all guys they could find in short notice. All of them had rifles, and all three pointed directly at me.


    Now, I didn¡¯t go from homeless guy to the rage murder machine in an instant. At that point, I snapped back to myself. I threw up my hands, just wanting to talk this out. But between the fact that I was standing over the corpse of their interrogator, and that my right arm was dripping red with blood, I guess they thought the better solution was to unload on me.


    For a brief second, I was absolutely terrified. I braced myself, waiting for the bullets to cut through me like butter. My heart seized in my chest, and I waited to fall over dead. Instead, I remained standing there, completely unhurt. I looked up, equally surprised as the three men. I still hadn¡¯t gotten used to being bullet proof yet.


    Even though they had treated me rather poorly, I honestly didn¡¯t feel like killing anyone else today. My head was still aching, and I really wanted some water. I wandered past the terrified men without giving them a second glance. Meandering down the hallway, I went by all the cells. I decided to have some fun, and I stuck my hand out, ripping the bars off as I walked along. Those cognizant enough went running every which way. The alarms were blaring in the halls now, or maybe they had been all along. I don¡¯t know.


    I entered a different part of the precinct. The floors turned to tile and the whole area generally became a lot nicer. I entered a room full of cubicles. Some people were still rushing about. They all dropped everything and turned tail once they saw me. I didn¡¯t even look their way. My eyes were locked on the water fountain in the corner.


    It was some nasty tap water, just what you would expect from a poorly funded department, but man, it was still the best drink of my life. That water tasted like freedom, and I gulped it down. Several men entered and began shooting at me. I continued lapping down the water for several more seconds as I vaguely felt bullets hitting me.


    I finished, and I straightened up. Resting my head back, I groaned in relief. My headache faded a little, and everything just felt better. Looking forward to the men who were busy reloading, I wiped the water off my mouth with my arm.


    ¡°Run,¡± I ordered them.


    They all looked up in absolute horror.


    ¡°Run!¡± I yelled at the top of my lungs.


    They all booked it, leaving me in the empty office room. I glanced around, thinking about what to do next. I shrugged my shoulders.


    I was going to have a little fun before I left.


    I went up to the nearest office chair and gently kicked it. The seat went flying up into the ceiling where it crashed into a fluorescent lamp with a shower of sparks and glass. Dust and debris rained down, and the broken remains of the chair fell back to the floor. Giggling again, I picked up a computer monitor and chucked it at the wall a little harder. The monitor punched a hole in the wall, exploding into a thousand tiny pieces into the next room.


    I began wrecking that office like a kid playing with his toys in a sandbox. The world had now become my very own playpen, where I could do whatever I liked. I ripped the water fountain off the wall and splashed myself with water from the busted pipe. I punched my arm through the wall multiple times, each one feeling more cathartic than the last. I stomped my foot and made a hole in the floor.


    Even then, I was holding back most of my newfound strength. I felt that I could rip apart this very building if I wanted to. Nothing could touch me. I was invincible!


    And as I was looking around at the destruction I caused, my eyes went wide as I suddenly realized who was likely on their way right now. As much as I felt I could take on the world, the real guns would be rolling in soon. I had to make my escape and make it fast.


    I barreled out of the office room and ran as fast as I could for the nearest exit. I went so fast that I couldn¡¯t turn, and I slammed through the wall. Again, I hardly felt anything as I accidentally kept going, wall after wall. I decided to run a little faster. Dust and debris coated me, but I didn¡¯t care. Why should I have to listen to hallways! I didn¡¯t have to obey any of their rules anymore!


    Finally, I saw a room with a window, and I threw myself through the brickwork. Except, it was only a little too late for me to realize I was on the fourth story. I threw my arms up as I braced for the fall.


    But I didn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t fall. I hung in the air as the dust was swept away by the wind. Below me was the street where people were screaming and running. It was chaos. A few of them stopped and pointed at the person hanging there in the sky. I saw a few more raise their phones to take videos of me. I didn¡¯t care.


    I laughed as I tried flying. It came as naturally to me as walking. It was like I had been born with this. I did a somersault in the air. I flew around from building to building, going faster or slower. It took several more minutes for reality to kick in again, and I bolted in the air. I thought about landing, but I was still covered in dust and blood. It wouldn¡¯t be hard to pick me out of a crowd.


    Maybe it was time for that dip in the East River after all. I pivoted towards the river and rocketed towards it. Getting more confident, I tried going faster and faster. The city turned into a blur before me. I saw the frozen river in the grey and brown landscape and plunged towards it. I knew the water was nasty and disgusting, but I was used to that.


    I shot through the ice. The water parted before me like it was nothing, and despite the murk, I could actually see the river bed quite clearly. And yes, it was as nasty as you would think. But there was something else. Standing at the bottom of the river, I saw a world that I had never seen before. I was someplace I had never been before.


    I saw fish swimming above me, like other people saw clouds in the sky.


    It was surreal. It was like I crossed over into somewhere else, someplace I was never allowed to go to before.


    Walking along the bottom¡ªskipping really¡ªI didn¡¯t know what to feel. I had felt like I had been saved. But I didn¡¯t know for what purpose or reason. I didn¡¯t know what I was supposed to do.


    I stopped in my tracks as I finally realized I didn¡¯t feel the need to breathe. I didn¡¯t know how long I could hold my breath. But it seemed there was no end to the surprises.


    Maybe I would try to see how long later, but now didn¡¯t feel the appropriate time. I needed time to adjust, time to sit down and think. With kicks of my legs, I traveled downriver for a few miles before punching out of the ice again and landing on the bank.


    Resting on the gravel, it seemed I had lost the attention of the masses for now. I decided to lie low for a few hours and clear my head.


    And after that¡­ well, after that, the city was mine.

 Chapter Seven

    Daniel Peterson


    I was aware of someone shaking me before I woke up. It was annoying, and I could already feel the nasty hangover. I tried to pull the sheets over me, but they were violently ripped from my hands. Bright lights suddenly came on, and I rolled over, trying to bury my face in the pillow. My head hurt bad, and I just wanted to sleep.


    ¡°You have to get up.¡± I heard Atomic Girl¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Tell¡­ uh, Walter, I¡¯ll be down in¡­ an hour.¡± My voice came muffled from the pillow. ¡°Give me just a few more minutes.¡±


    ¡°Walter called an emergency meeting. The others have already left the hotel. You need to get up. Now.¡±


    ¡°Screw the Ghost. I don¡¯t fucking care. I¡¯m sure the Blue Justice can handle him.¡± I lifted my head and blinked my eyes. There was more than a little resentment dripping from my voice.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the Ghost. There¡¯s been a class five attack on the city.¡±


    That finally got my attention. I tried to sit up, only to feel a sharp pain behind my eyes. I crawled up on the bed, sitting against the headboard as I collected myself. I saw a blurry Atomic Girl come into focus in my bedroom. She was in full costume.


    Sarah wore a green and black spandex uniform. It was skin tight, and honestly a little too revealing. On her chest was a black symbol of an atom, and her blond hair was pulled back with a green headband. She looked cute when she was angry. I liked the way she scrunched up her button nose.


    ¡°You serious? There really is a class five?¡± I asked, focusing again.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I groaned and swung my legs off the bedside. I made to stand up, but my feet gave out, and Sarah rushed to catch me. I saw there were four or five empty liquor bottles on the floor, and a considerable amount of vomit. Holding my head in my hands, I really wanted the pounding to stop.


    ¡°Daniel.¡±


    ¡°I know!¡± I held up my hand. ¡°I know. Just give me a minute.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t be late. The car is waiting for us to take us back to StarCorp.¡±


    ¡°Well, Hic,¡± I burped a little. ¡°That¡¯s the neat part of teleportation.¡±


    It so happened that I was still in full costume since last night. And as luck would have it, my uniform was miraculously spotless. Not that I could recall anything, mind you. I just knew the smell of vomit wasn¡¯t coming from me. Say what you will about my constitution, my aim was impeccable. After all, a superhero can¡¯t get caught with throw up on himself, otherwise he might look undignified.


    I waved my arm, trying to get some feeling back in it. I think I slept on it funny.


    ¡°Daniel!¡±


    I ignored her, and I placed my hand on Atomic Girl¡¯s shoulder. Still holding my eyes closed, I took my usual route from the hotel to the Hero¡¯s Room. Our workplace was situated a few blocks away, so it was a bit out of range for a single jump. Quickly taking short stops at a few rooftops, we were back in the Defenders¡¯ Tower. A blink later, and we were in the Hero¡¯s Room before anyone had even gotten there.


    Atomic Girl glanced around, shocked that we had arrived so quickly. ¡°How many times¡­?¡±


    ¡°How long it took me to figure out the best route? Shorter than you would think.¡± I blinked my heavy eyes, and I left her there.


    Suddenly, I was in Cheryl¡¯s empty office, and I started a cup of coffee. Little was it known that Cheryl had purchased a ten thousand credit coffee maker when she went on vacation to the Bahamas. While I was waiting, I teleported over to the bathroom to do my business and splash my face with water. Returning to my full cup, I teleported three floors down to the lunchroom to grab a bagel. Back up in the Hero¡¯s Room again, still no one had arrived.


    Atomic Girl had taken a seat at our mighty conference table with her arms crossed. She watched as I yanked out a chair with my foot and collapsed into the seat. Throwing my legs on the glass table, I enjoyed a very delicious coffee and bagel.


    ¡°I know you hate it here, but people are getting hurt,¡± she said. ¡°Can you take this a little seriously?¡±


    ¡°If there¡¯s a class five running around.¡± I spoke with mouth full of bagel. ¡°There¡¯s absolute jack you or I can do about it. Only one who might be able to put up that kind of firepower is the Blue Justice. We¡¯re effectively on the bench for this one.¡±


    ¡°We can at least try to save lives.¡±


    ¡°And when Walter puts me on civilian duty, I¡¯ll go and do my job like everyone else. Until then, I don¡¯t see you rushing out to save the people. Getting a bagel and coffee is no different than when Walter makes us pose for photoshoots.¡±


    Sarah sighed. ¡°I know. You¡¯re right. But we have an obligation to make this situation as less worse as possible. And¡­ it makes me feel guilty.¡±


    Guilt is exactly what you should feel. At least, that was what I wanted to tell her. But I just didn¡¯t have the heart to do it. Sarah wasn¡¯t a bad person. She was caught up in the exact same situation I was. The difference was she tried to play along to see if she could make things better. I didn¡¯t agree with it, but it wasn¡¯t the worst thing.


    I took my legs off the conference table and wiped the crumbs off the glass. Straightening my purple costume, I tried to make myself a little more presentable.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said.


    I suppressed rolling my eyes. I finished up my bagel, and just as I was halfway through my coffee, the rest of the Urban Defenders walked in. The Blue Justice didn¡¯t even look our way as he took his seat at the second of the table. Yellow Bolt followed close behind, though he waved to us as he sat down farther down. The final member of the team, The Ranger, was the youngest out of all of us.


    He came out of the stupid idea that normals could be superheroes too. It was a tale as old as the Democratic Union, but no matter how many times people got splattered, they couldn¡¯t help but chuck more guys into dangerous positions they shouldn¡¯t have been in to begin with. The Ranger¡ªCarl¡ªwas a seventeen-year-old. They plucked him out of enlistment because he was good looking. Nevermind his abysmal physical scores¡­ or his shoddy marksmanship¡­ or his lack of confidence.


    And the worst part was he knew it. He barely said a word during meetings, and thankfully, Walter never assigned him to do any actual grunt work. He was a prop for the media page, and that was it. I felt bad for him in so many ways. It was one thing to be a celebrity. It was quite another to be the useless one among celebrities.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    We were all seated in silence, unsure of what to say to one another. I looked over to The Blue Justice. He seemed like he was thinking up of a rousing speech in his head, but just as he opened his mouth, Walter walked in.


    We were all looking down on him from our position at the table, but he somehow made each and every one of us squirm in our seats¡ªexcept for The Blue Justice.


    ¡°At ten thirty today, there was an incident on twenty-seventh street.¡± Walter climbed the steps and took his seat at the head of the table. ¡°A homeless man suddenly demonstrated class five super powers and broke out. He is currently at large, and all attempts to track him down have failed.¡± Walter clicked a remote, and a projection appeared before us. It was a video recording of a newscast.


    A woman narrated in front of a green screen of the city street. ¡°As you can see, the damage to Precinct 11 is catastrophic. The criminal known as Adam Mason was arrested for trespassing and public intoxication. Upon being read his rights, the individual flew into a violent rage and murdered his lawyer in cold blood. His rampage has so far claimed over a dozen lives and leaving more injured. Social services have confirmed records of Adam Mason, but it appears this individual was never on the Registry. We¡¯ve reached out to the ASA for¡ª¡±


    Walter shut off the newscast. The conference room was dead silent. I glanced from Walter to the Urban Defenders. For the first time in my life, I saw the Blue Justice visibly unnerved. I couldn¡¯t blame him, seeing as he was the only one on the team capable of standing toe to toe with that. It was going to be on him to bring super hobo to justice.


    ¡°So how does this affect our media campaign on the Ghost?¡± I asked, genuinely curious about Walter¡¯s game plan.


    ¡°Affect!?¡± Walter laughed bitterly. ¡°It killed it stone dead. No one is going to care about the Ghost now that we have ultraman on our hands¡ªand no, that is not what the media are going to be naming him.¡±


    ¡°But isn¡¯t this a good thing?¡± Yellow Bolt asked. ¡°This is way more dramatic than some class two super villain.¡±


    Walter looked at Yellow Bolt as if he was an idiot. ¡°The Ghost was a non-threat. He was a bone to toss to our bored audience. This is a class five. Do you think the higher-ups are going to let us bag him? We¡¯re going to get fucking steamrolled by a B-Rank team, or worse. If this catches national attention¡­¡±


    I saw the numbers playing in Walter¡¯s head in realtime, the millions of lost credits in advertising revenue being gobbled up by some bigger name. It was his worst nightmare. And on the other end of the stick, The Blue Justice visibly eased up.


    ¡°That¡¯s only if they get to him first,¡± I suggested, teasing our leader. ¡°If we track this Adam Mason down fast, we can nip this in the bud and get all the credit.¡±


    ¡°If I knew where he was, that¡¯s where you would be,¡± Walter snapped. ¡°City is being ridiculous with its surveillance system. Billions of credits in tax money and they can¡¯t track down one stupid hobo!¡± He slammed his fist on the table.


    ¡°Is there anything in his background? Maybe something that can clue us in on what he¡¯s planning?¡± Atomic Girl asked.


    I know some people can glare daggers, but Walter genuinely looked like he was going to strangle Atomic Girl and throw her out the window for good measure.


    The problem was none of us were supposed to be asking questions. There was no real decision making or investigation that was supposed to be done in this room. That was for Walter¡¯s staff. We were supposed to obey orders and look pretty.


    And you know what? I was perfectly fine with this arrangement. Let them try to sort this mess out. I hoped they wouldn¡¯t ever find this Adam Mason, whoever he was. I certainly didn¡¯t want to fight him.


    ¡°What do you need us to do?¡± The Blue Justice asked,hoping to calm Walter down.


    ¡°You, the Ranger, and Yellow Bolt are going to be giving interviews. We need to get our faces in this situation as much as possible. If we can get in front of this early, it¡¯ll make it harder for anyone to sideline us. This is our city, and any of the vultures who want this story need to remember that.¡±


    ¡°How about me and Atomic Girl?¡± I asked, groaning inwardly that I was probably getting put on field duty again.


    ¡°You two are staying at the Tower. We¡¯re keeping all our pieces close. The last thing I need is one of you getting killed and making the team look incompetent. I can¡¯t replace any of you on short notice.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. Thanks for the concern, Walter. But deep down, I was glad I could just go back to sleep. I really didn¡¯t want to do anything today, especially not with a raging lunatic on the loose. I did feel a little bad for the CitySec grunts who would be on the front lines while we were lounging around, but hey, that was life in City 57. This was what superheroes did, relax and look pretty. And besides, anyone who signs up to be a CitySec officer is just asking to be killed nowadays.


    The rest of the meeting was relatively short. Cheryl came in and handed scripts out for those who were doing interviews. Walter gave out some more verbal lashing, especially to me, and then he walked off to wherever he was going next. The others filed out while Atomic Girl and I stayed in the empty conference room.


    ¡°I just wish we could do something,¡± she quietly said.


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°Do you think¡ª¡±


    I raised my finger. ¡°Before you finish that thought.¡± I teleported over to her, leaving my watch in my chair. A few seconds later, we were on the rooftop of the Defenders¡¯ Tower. It wasn¡¯t much more than a flat stretch of gravel, but at least we didn¡¯t have to worry about being overheard.


    ¡°The answer is no,¡± I said. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying this, and I know it¡¯s rich coming from me, but please don¡¯t do anything stupid.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯d you bring me up here if the answer is no?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re going to argue with me, anyway.¡±


    Atomic Girl threw up her arms. ¡°Listen! I¡¯m not asking you to be a superhero or the Nighthawk or whatever. I¡¯m just saying that this is no way to live!¡±


    I could feel the frustration in her voice.


    ¡°I know. Believe me, I know. But there are certain lines even I don¡¯t cross. One of those is screwing around when Walter¡¯s mad.¡±


    Atomic Girl snorted. ¡°You can tell the difference?¡±


    We stared at each other in silence for a minute. I broke down first and soon we were both giggling like maniacs on the rooftop. We looked over City 57, the rotting corpse of a city it was. I wondered if anyone got to live a ¡°good¡± life anymore. Was there someone¡ªanyone¡ªout there who was happy? Maybe happy was the wrong word. Was there anyone left who felt like they were doing the right thing? Old people say the world changed when the bombs fell¡ªthat it became crueler. I don¡¯t know. Maybe the bombs fell because people were always that cruel to begin with.


    ¡°Do you ever think about just running away?¡± Atomic Girl asked.


    ¡°All the time.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Nowhere to go.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s gotta be somewhere.¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°Maybe, but if I got there, and that is a big if, who¡¯s to say I won¡¯t have to run again? I don¡¯t think cutting and running is the answer. At least, it¡¯s not for me. There are too many things I care about.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    I turned to her. ¡°Like Walter¡¯s good charm.¡±


    Atomic Girl laughed again. That was one of the only things that made me happy anymore¡ªhearing her laugh. But she turned to me and looked expectantly. ¡°I¡¯m serious. Do you honestly think there¡¯s anything worth sticking around for?¡±


    I shook my head, sighing. Here¡¯s the thing. I knew the right answer. It was something I desperately wanted to say, but it couldn¡¯t be here, and it couldn¡¯t be now. I don¡¯t know if I would ever get the chance to say it, but I knew it wouldn¡¯t be right unless I had a future I could fight for. Until then, I couldn¡¯t promise a damn thing.


    ¡°I think¡­ a chance to live our lives the right way. I don¡¯t know how. I don¡¯t know when. But I think that¡¯s worth sticking around for.¡±


    I remembered what Seattle Vance had told me in the armored truck. Learn to say no. I couldn¡¯t help but think he was about ten years too late. I pretended to be the rebel, but I lost that real fight in me a long time ago. I was just fucking around, waiting for who knows what.


    Atomic Girl seemed a little disappointed in that answer, and to tell you the truth, so was I. But I couldn¡¯t bring myself to lie to her like that. I had lied so many times to so many people. I just couldn¡¯t do it to her.


    ¡°How long do you think we have before we need to head back?¡± She suddenly asked.


    ¡°A few more minutes, I think. Remember, we¡¯re supposed to be doing passionate lovemaking right now.¡±


    Atomic Girl giggled, but her smile slowly faded. ¡°What are we going to do next?¡±


    I didn¡¯t know quite what she was referring to. ¡°With our super hobo? I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen. I just hope nobody gets hurt. I don¡¯t care about our views on social media. It isn¡¯t worth risking one of our lives over. Even The Blue Justice.¡±


    ¡°You think Walter would really do that? He¡¯s always been¡­ vindictive. But do you really think he would go that far?¡±


    I looked over the city pensively. ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡±

 Chapter Eight

    Seattle Vance


    ¡°Fly, Mason. Fly.¡± I raised a glass to Adam while I watched him zoom off on the TV.


    If you asked me whether I felt guilty for what I did, that was a complicated question. Truth is, I¡¯ve known a lot of guys over the years, and we all have our own ways of dealing with it. Some stew. Some let that guilt grow and grow until they¡¯re crushed underneath it. Others like the killin. Not like psychopaths¡ªthose are too easy to understand. I¡¯ve known men who need the blood and the dust and the smell of gunpowder. They need to struggle to feel alive. And it¡¯s peace that breaks them.


    Maybe I¡¯ve been that guy on occasion. But at that moment, watching the tv and thinking of all the blood that was already on my hands, I was the guy who just kept counting the cost¡ªand every time I realized I could live with it.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you gave the enzyme to a hobo.¡± I heard Joshua¡¯s voice behind me.


    My shoulders fell, and I groaned as I braced for another dressing down, but Joshua walked up to the tv and crossed his arms. He watched the news in silence for a while before turning to me. ¡°I contacted the Index like you asked. You got what you wanted¡ªagain. They agreed to meet.¡± He threw me a flip-phone, and I caught it in both hands.


    ¡°What? You¡¯re not going to lecture me on how I made the dumbest choice possible? Where¡¯s the anger?¡± I glanced back at him.


    ¡°Oh no, you¡¯re still a fucking moron, but this¡­¡± Joshua shook his head, for once unable to find words. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever understand you, Seattle. You throw away every second chance in the trash. Do you even know how valuable that enzyme was? Thirty million credits, minimum. And for what? For super hobo?¡±


    It was his quiet resignation that hurt more than tongue-lashing. He probably had a whole speech cooked up for if I had retrieved it, some appeal to the good life. Instead, he had to watch a homeless man do somersaults in front of news cameras. I had even asked him to scramble the city¡¯s surveillance systems, throw CitySec off the trail. Don¡¯t know if Joshua actually went through with it or not.


    ¡°Listen, by the time I¡¯m through, we¡¯ll both be made men. Adam Mason is just an investment.¡±


    I don¡¯t know why I suddenly tried to summon that Seattle. Something about those words felt nasty even as I said them. I shouldn¡¯t have tried to put on the salesman face, not for Joshua.


    Joshua snorted. ¡°You think I care about the money? What you¡¯re trying to steal from the ASA?¡±He tapped on the tv with his finger. ¡°Even if you get what you want, it¡¯s too hot to use it. You think I want top ASA secrets stashed here? Fat chance. If I had any working braincells, I should¡¯ve left you out on your ass for CitySec.¡±


    I was quiet for a long moment. ¡°If it means anything, I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Just tell me, when does this end for you? When does this train wreck stop?¡±


    ¡°When I get my brother back.¡± I told him quite plainly.


    ¡°He¡¯s dead, Seattle. You know it as well as I do.¡±


    I glared past him at the tv. ¡°He ain¡¯t dead. Not yet. Not until I see his corpse in the ground.¡±


    ¡­


    I dunno. I don¡¯t like sharing details. When you let a guy know you, you¡¯re just giving him leverage. But I suppose I have to lay my cards on the table sometime. So here¡¯s the quick run down. I was thirteen. My brother was seventeen.


    And I got him fucking caught.


    Happy? My story is a whole basket case of tragedies, and that one wasn¡¯t the last. But here¡¯s where things get screwy in this fucked up life of mine. I¡¯ve moved heaven and earth to try to find where he is. Years back, I had Joshua look into every database and server to find where Phoenix landed. The ASA may be evil sons of bitches, but damn if they don¡¯t keep meticulous records.


    But for my brother? Nothing. Nadda. Not even an entry that he was arrested. Once he was packed into that black van, it was like he disappeared off the face of the Earth. So after my stint in Cairo¡ªwhich turned out to be a lot longer than I thought¡ªI went back to the trail.


    He had just class one transparency, so I figured maybe the ASA just tossed him into Gen Pop. I ran with the Coyotes for a long while, doing smuggling work at the camps. After two years and not finding a trace of him, I gave up and decided to check out the exclusion zones. It was possible they sold him off for enlistment, used as human fodder to explore the bio-contaminant areas.


    Nothing.


    I fuckin went all the way to Flesh National Park, that¡¯s what we called the growth in District Nineteen. The ground bleeds when you walk on it, and I shoveled decomposing corpses for six months before that fell through. Still can¡¯t be sure if Phoenix wasn¡¯t under all that tissue and bone, but I wanted to think he was a survivor. Even if he was enlisted, he would¡¯ve found his way back to me.


    So that sent me back to square one.


    Now I¡¯m going to be honest. I worked for a lot of people and none of them were saints. Did a lotta stuff I¡¯m not proud of. So let¡¯s skip some of what happened next and get right to the chase.


    The ASA manage abnormal collections for the Democratic Union and a whole lot of other countries. You might think of them as an international coalition, with most of the shots being called out of the bunker-complexes in Iceland.


    Long story that, but nuclear war makes the rich panicky.


    To get to the point, the ASA run the black sites. What are they? What do they do? Who fuckin knows, that¡¯s why they¡¯re called black sites. But I figure that¡¯s one place to check if you¡¯re searching for a vanished somebody. That¡¯s why I wanted to get into the ASA Regional Headquarters here in City 57. In that building is a Skeleton List¡ªa map of the secret supply chains and locations of prisoners spread throughout the Democratic Union. That¡¯s what I wanted to steal. That¡¯s what I¡¯m after.


    I stepped into the alleyway and went visible again. Flipping open the phone Joshua gave me, I peered at the address on the screen, double-checking the time and location. It was dusk, and traffic was sparse in this part of the city. The thing was, if I wanted to get into the ASA headquarters, and more importantly get out, I needed a new team.


    You can think of the Index as the underground, a network of mercenaries with the kind of abnormal abilities needed for jobs like this. And it was high time I paid them a visit.


    Walking out, I acted natural as I strolled down the sidewalk. The meet was happening in a nightclub called Euphoria. I wasn¡¯t exactly keen on appearing in a public place, but the fixer was adamant about it. Luckily, this part of the city looked seedy enough that no one looked twice in your direction. But just to be safe, I shaved and cut my hair beforehand. Got a new change of clothes too. It would take someone with a good eye to pick me out as the Ghost. I walked down that street as if I was anyone else¡ªand I found that was the best disguise of them all. Just a few minutes later, I was standing in front of my destination.


    Euphoria was one of those dens that sprung up in the ruins of the old city, repurposing the decay for decadence. The building itself had formerly been a bank, its high architecture rising high above me in the darkening sky.


    I walked into a front lobby and saw the faded logo of some corporation that no longer existed. It was a giant red circle with three dashes through it, emblazoned on a faded and crumbling wall. Maybe it had meant something once, but now it was target practice for drunks to throw their bottles at. My boots crunched on glass as I walked in. The dark space of the corporate lobby was mostly empty, with only a few circles of camping chairs huddled around fire pits. Only a few people were around, the types who lingered on the periphery and minded their own business. The afternoon light filtered in from busted ceiling windows, and no one turned to look at me as I entered.


    Faintly from further inside, I heard the beat of loud music. It was that annoying synth stuff that never seemed to die out. I inwardly groaned as I walked down a long, fetid hallway and pushed open a set of double doors, only to have my eardrums blasted by the noise.


    The room had once been your run-of-the-mill cubicle floor, but after decades of rot and negligence, the ceiling had collapsed. Looking up, I saw a big hole where a big part of the second and third floors used to be. The owner of the nightclub had cleared out the debris and turned the ground level into a dance floor. The upper floors had been reinforced with suspicious looking steel girders, but I didn¡¯t want to think about that too much.


    There wasn¡¯t a DJ or anything like that. Instead, the sound was blasted from cobbled together speakers spread throughout the area. I wondered how often they went through that equipment, running them so loud. Laser pointers were held by guys on the second floor, waving the green lights like they choreographed it. There were the usual early birds to the party, dancing in the center, though I suspected at least half of them were already high. You didn¡¯t come to a place like Euphoria to have fun. You came here to get wasted on something.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    I skirted the edges of the dance floor and wandered around. I made sure to keep in the dimly lit areas, never sticking in one place too long. My contact with the Index had been deliberately vague on the details. I didn¡¯t even know what he looked like. Half the time, I kept glancing over my shoulder, waiting for someone to mysteriously appear behind me.


    Instead, I felt my phone buzz.


    Third floor. The text read.


    I shrugged and started climbing the stairs. The third floor was filled with booths that were obviously scavenged from different parts of the city. All the furniture was mismatched and erratically placed, though it was infinitely more cozy than the floors below. There were working lightbulbs here too, the soft yellow lights strung precariously along the ceiling. Glancing around, I noticed a surprising number of the seats were filled.


    ¡°Mr. Vance,¡± a voice called out from one of the booths.


    I looked over, and I saw an elderly man somewhere in his sixties. He was sitting comfortably, wearing a loose blazer and slacks. I thought he might¡¯ve had a gun hidden away in there, but I couldn¡¯t tell. Honestly, I was surprised, seeing someone so old here. I walked over and took a seat opposite of him.


    ¡°May I interest you in a scotch?¡± The old man brought out a bottle and two glasses.


    ¡°Helluva place you chose to meet,¡± I said. ¡°You said to call you Mr. Greene, right? Aren¡¯t you worried you¡¯re going to catch some unwanted attention? You stick out like a sore thumb.¡±


    The old man chuckled as he began pouring, anyway. ¡°I happen to own this place. If anyone wants to mess with me, they gotta go through Grogo first.¡±


    I was about to ask who Grogo was when I saw the giant of a man in the corner. I couldn¡¯t believe I missed him earlier. He might¡¯ve been the bouncer of all bouncers, standing at least six and a half feet tall and built like an ox. But just as quickly as I saw him, the lighting grew dimmer, and I lost track of him.


    I took a seat opposite of him in the booth. ¡°So are we going to talk business¡ª¡±


    Mr. Greene pushed one of the whiskey glasses to me, and I had a feeling I didn¡¯t have a choice but to drink. ¡°No need to get so formal,¡± he said. ¡°We can talk business later. Tell me, how has your stay been in City 57? CitySec treating you right?¡± Mr. Greene sipped from his glass, eyeing me with a sudden hostility that caught me off guard.


    I picked up my own glass, and I ran my hand along the smooth wood of the table. The little surface was a nice piece of furniture, made from a dark, varnished wood. It was carved by an expert craftsman, with nice flourishes of flowers and branches at the ends. The booths were equally high-class, padded with a green felt that felt far too rich for this place.


    So he was one of those types¡ªan aristocrat, lord of the scum of City 57.


    I downed the whiskey in one gulp and slammed the glass back on the table. ¡°C.H. Jackson, right? That¡¯s a good bottle. I had a few back in my bootlegging days in City 12. Still not as good as the River Bourbon they¡¯re aging in the Mississippi. It has a richer nose, and it goes down smoother. You should try it sometime.¡±


    Mr. Greene chuckled, shaking his head and leaning back. ¡°You¡¯ve got a set of balls on you, coming here and asking for my help.¡±


    I rested my arm on the table. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve pissed off a lot of people in my time, and my memory¡¯s a bit fuzzy. The fuck I do to you?¡±


    The old man snapped his fingers, and I heard two heavy footfalls behind me. I didn¡¯t look back to see who it was.


    ¡°Seattle Vance, according to my sources, you¡¯ve been in City 57 less than a week. In that time, you¡¯ve singlehandedly caused more chaos in this city than anyone since the fucking nukes fell. You ask what you did? Let¡¯s start with unleashing a rogue class fucking five on my city, that¡¯s what. My people have CitySec all over their asses because they think we¡¯re helping you. Doors are being kicked down all over the city. I¡¯ve had eight separate raids on my businesses. My people are being put behind bars, and you come in here requesting my help?¡±


    Mr. Greene pulled out a black revolver and set it on the table. ¡°Give me one good reason why I shouldn¡¯t blow your brains out and boot your headless corpse over to CitySec.¡±


    It¡¯s funny the kinds of things that don¡¯t make you scared anymore. You face sudden death day after day, a gun to my head was the least dangerous thing I¡¯ve had to deal with this week. I picked up my empty glass, running my fingers around the rim. The little motion helped clear my head, put me in the right frame.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you three,¡± I said after a second. ¡°First is that we both know it¡¯s not going to end with me. CitySec doesn¡¯t keep its promises, and they don¡¯t play fair¡ªthat doesn¡¯t change no matter what city you¡¯re in. Once they declare war, it¡¯ll be till one of you are left standing. Giving me over will only encourage them.¡±


    The old man picked up the revolver and pointed at my head. ¡°You¡¯ve explained why I shouldn¡¯t hand you over. Not why I shouldn¡¯t dump you in the river.¡±


    ¡°Second.¡± I raised my hand, motioning that I was going to pull something from my jacket. A large palm fell on my shoulder, but Mr. Greene nodded to Grogo to let me continue. I slowly pulled out a flash drive and placed it on the table. On it was a detailed map of the ASA regional headquarters as well as the infiltration route. I pushed it over to him. ¡°This job I have is going to solve all your problems.¡±


    ¡°You told me about your planned assault on the ASA Regional Headquarters.¡± Mr. Greene cocked the hammer of the revolver. ¡°How on earth is throwing dynamite on this clusterfuck going to help us?¡±


    ¡°My original employer wanted me to stage a false flag attack, blame it on the New American Extremists. I say why don¡¯t we paint somebody else¡¯s hands red? Why don¡¯t we put the finger at CitySec? The ASA and the internal city force are already at each other¡¯s throats over jurisdiction. All they need is a spark, and we¡¯ll have a proper civil war over this city. Hell, you¡¯ll have the run of the city once this is through.¡±


    Mr. Greene laughed. ¡°CitySec? They¡¯re the ones who raided your hideout. How the fuck are you going to convince the ASA that CitySec was behind the Ghost?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll start with the fact that one of CitySec¡¯s own drones was reprogrammed to specifically find my hideout in the first place, that I managed to magically escape from an armored convoy with nothing but a pair of handcuffs, that after several days of combing the city, CitySec still can¡¯t find their enemy number one. Now I show up knocking at their headquarters with some tastefully acquired gear¡ªprovided by the discrete support of yours truly¡ªwhat does that look like to an ASA analyst?¡±


    ¡°You want the ASA to think CitySec set up the Ghost as a cover to knock out their headquarters? A pasty?¡±


    ¡°And for the muscle, I¡¯ll page Adam Mason, a nobody who somehow acquired super powers. What? Are they really supposed to believe a class five enzyme coincidentally found its way to a hobo who just happened to take a shot at their building?¡±


    I threw that last part in on a lark. I had no earthly idea if I could somehow wrangle Mason, but Mr. Greene didn¡¯t need to know that.


    I saw the old man weigh the idea in his head. Tell you the truth, I knew what I sold him wasn¡¯t the brightest idea in the world, but it was the best I could come up with on short notice.Hey, I didn¡¯t plan to be talking with a gun at my head.


    But something in Mr. Greene¡¯s calculations threw him my way, something that struck me as way too easy, but the old man finally set down the revolver. ¡°You¡¯re a big dreamer, Mr. Vance. I¡¯ll give you that. But what¡¯s in it for you? Why are you going through all this trouble?¡±


    ¡°I need the Skeleton List,¡± I told him quite plainly.


    ¡°Hmph!¡± Mr. Greene grunted out. ¡°You really think something like that exists? And it¡¯s in City 57¡ªof all places? This run-down dump is where the ASA chooses to hide one of their most valuable secrets?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve done my legwork.¡±


    Mr. Greene raised an eyebrow. ¡°Maybe you have. And I suppose that¡¯s one part I don¡¯t have to care about. Say we go along with this little plan of yours, I still want certain assurances. The Index¡¯s part is going to be a quiet, yet intimate role in your operation. None of this traces back to us. No risks taken. That means I choose your team. I run your plan. And just so know, if any of this goes wrong¡ªif so much as a hair is out of place¡ªI know where you live. And I will rain hellfire on your friend too.¡± He let that threat hang in the air.


    ¡°You¡¯re forgetting the third reason why you shouldn¡¯t kill me.¡±


    The old man rolled his eyes. ¡°What?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°I¡¯m the best damn merc in the city, and I always get the job done.¡±


    ¡­


    We stood in front of a vault door in the sub-basement of the nightclub. It wasn¡¯t part of the original architecture, instead being bolted onto the concrete shaft. Grogo turned the combination wheel. The steel groaned as his massive hands twisted the mechanism. I didn¡¯t know whether he had super strength or he was just that freakishly strong. In any case, it seemed the vault was built in more than way to keep other people out.


    Looking behind me, I saw two guards flanking the exit out into the stairs, both holding M4s. Mr. Greene smoked a cigar casually in the hazy yellow light. He tapped his foot patiently as he waited for Grogo to finish opening the door.


    ¡°You know I did some digging on your past¡ªyour real one,¡± Mr. Greene said.


    I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°Anything interesting?¡±


    ¡°Vance, your entire CV is filled with enough mental illness for a Dostoevsky novel. But since I¡¯m helping you with your suicide mission, one thing stands out to me. Collection operations with the ASA?¡±


    I raised an eyebrow, surprised how he dug that secret out. ¡°Yeah, I ran with the Knight Squads for a while.¡±


    Knight Squads. They¡¯re the ASA¡¯s off-the-books personnel. As much as they like the headlines about making the world safe for normals, about making everyone equal again, they sometimes need to use abnormals just like anyone else. And it turns out, invisibility is high in demand when your primary job is state-backed kidnapping.


    That was one thing class twos were good for, all the dirty work in the Democratic Union. See class threes and above are difficult to get for the undercover ops. They¡¯re too noticeable and there¡¯s too few to go around. Class twos though, we¡¯re a dime a dozen. We¡¯re disposable.


    ¡°So what?¡± I asked. ¡°You wanna psychoanalyze me? See if I¡¯m a bad person or not? I can save you the trouble on that one.¡±


    ¡°If I cared about that, you wouldn¡¯t be standing here. I just have one question. You¡¯re a better expert than I. During this op, would it be possible to save anyone?¡±


    I knew what he meant immediately, and for whatever reason, I wanted to tell him the truth. Guess I do have a soft spot from time to time.


    ¡°You want to know if you can save the kids?¡± I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, giving him a doubtful glance. ¡°Those children are going to be behind several thick steel doors and several layers of concrete deep. They keep em in holes, penned in so they don¡¯t have room to use super powers. It¡¯s much cheaper than the tank. But you probably know all that already. Real trouble is the children. You gotta keep in mind that they¡¯re still living weapons, and they tend to go feral.¡±


    Mr. Greene nodded.


    The vault door¡¯s lock made a loud clunk. Grogo panted heavily as he heaved the steel entrance open, revealing a room filled with filing cabinets and safe boxes. There was a table in the center and two chairs. Besides the non-networked computer that looked a century old, I also noticed several rectangular shapes in the dark corners. They were plastic explosives.


    ¡°I worked with the Index before, but I¡¯ve always been surprised how low tech you guys are,¡± I commented.


    Looking inside, I knew this was a special vault. In here was all the personnel and contacts of the Index, kept as a proverbial ledger. Everything was in here, from equipment caches, to financial records, to emergency credit accounts for when you had to ditch town. It was the type of info one needed to run an underground mercenary ring of City 57¡¯s unknown unknowns.


    ¡°The Index cannot afford the risk of a digital database,¡± Mr. Greene explained. A¡±ny leak would be disastrous to our operation and put our clients at grave risk. For their safety and for the safety of the organization, everything must be done as in-person as possible. A file cabinet cannot be hacked, nor can its contents be compromised without someone being there in person.¡± The old man then flashed his revolver. ¡°Which means, you aren¡¯t going to take one step inside while we hash out the details of my plan.¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°So¡­ where do you want to start?¡±

 Chapter Nine

    Adam Mason


    I holed up in an abandoned warehouse for the rest of the day, waiting for things to cool over¡ªwaiting for myself to cool over. I needed time to think, time to process. And so I settled in a forgotten part of the city. The old building was exposed, much of the roof had fallen in. The windows were either broken or so grimy that you couldn¡¯t see through them.


    At one point, this place must¡¯ve been busy, full of boxes and shelves and workers. Now it was an empty space filled with tired rubble. But that¡¯s the thing, it wasn¡¯t tired for me. Everything was so new. I hefted a rusted forklift above my head like a toddler picking up a rock to see what was underneath it. I dug with my hands and scooped a giant hole just to see what was there. Hell, I already won the lottery. Maybe I¡¯d find buried treasure too! I tore a long piece of rebar from the concrete, and I swung it around like I had just pulled fuckin Excalibur from the stone. Crack! I slammed it into a girder, and it practically disintegrated in my hands.


    Honestly, I lost track of the time. I was having too much fun punching holes in walls and testing out my new powers. I still hadn¡¯t discovered a limit to how long I could hold my breath. For all I knew, I didn¡¯t even have to breathe anymore. I gotta tell you, even by the time I realized night fell, I was still giggling like a maniac.


    It was then I realized I wasn¡¯t hungry.


    I dunno. It was like every normal human limitation had been dialed back or turned off. The weirdest thing was that I had to force myself to notice that they were gone. It all just felt so normal. Of course I didn¡¯t need to eat or drink or sleep! That was who I was now¡ªthe guy on top. But it was still crazy to me that some people had felt like this all their lives.


    They were lucky ones. They got to be gods while the rest of us barely scrapped together a living. I don¡¯t think the divide ever really cemented itself in my mind before now. I knew people were rich and famous and powerful, but it never really sank in just how much they lived better. I¡¯m not talking about all the creature comforts, though those came with their own benefits. I¡¯m talking about freedom. I¡¯m talking about the ability to do whatever you want whenever you want to whoever you want.


    Don¡¯t ever kid yourself in things like public servants or philanthropists or whatever bullshit they feed you on the Democracy Channel. Take it from a guy who¡¯s seen the other side. They don¡¯t give a damn because they don¡¯t need to. You work for them so they can lead the lives you always wanted, the life I always wanted. I giggled again. Now I was one of the lucky ones, and now I could do whatever I wanted.


    And just to let you know, I¡¯m not an idiot. I can put two and two together when the occasion arises. I figured out what the Ghost had injected me with. I mean, it¡¯s not exactly a state secret that they siphon the blood of supers from to inject into normals. Temporary super soldiers and all that.


    But what my memory was frustratingly unclear on was how long those lucky normals lasted. I remember hearing on the news that they said years. But I also vaguely recalled that the Ghost told me that I was on the clock.


    Eh, I honestly didn¡¯t believe him. I felt fine. I felt better than fine. I mean, look what I could do! I could fuckin take bullets to the face! If that doesn¡¯t scream a picture of good health, I don¡¯t what does. Sure, some people probably keeled over quicker than others and whatnot. But hell, I didn¡¯t see what the fuss was about.


    Ididn¡¯t see in what world I wasn¡¯t an exception to whatever the Ghost was saying.


    Glancing up in that night sky, I just felt¡­ open. Every day, I used to worry about food. Now I¡¯m not sure I could starve. I used to worry about clean water. Now I can fuckin take strolls at the bottom of the East River.


    I used to worry about my job. Now¡­


    You know what? When I was a kid, I used to make a list of all the shit I wanted to do with my life. It was filled with all the usual childish stuff that you slowly forget over time. Heh, it¡¯s funny. I remember wanting to be an astronaut. Do you know what those even are? I wouldn¡¯t blame ya if you didn¡¯t. Well, apparently the Democratic Union¡ªAmerica¡ªused to send people into space.


    Apparently we even had people walking on the moon.


    Now I don¡¯t believe that for a fucking second, but point is, I had that sort of crazy list. And while some modifications may have been made over the years, it was time to start crossing some shit off.


    I looked down at my hands, clenching them with enough power to crush concrete to dust. A wicked grin spread on my lips as an idea came to me.


    Oh yeah, I knew exactly what I was going to do first.


    ¡­


    In a little under an hour, I was standing in front of that same grimy fast-food restaurant where this whole adventure began.


    You¡¯d be surprised how easily I walked in the open streets. Well, to be fair it was dark and there wasn¡¯t much traffic, but still. I realized everyone expects the insane super hobo to be flying through the air, not the vagrant strolling down the sidewalk. Even with my face all over the billboards, which itself was a strange sensation, no one looked up or raised the alarm.


    But anyways, man, I was downright cackling as I entered the door of the restaurant. There was a short line at this late into the night, but I went straight to the front. The robot had just placed an order on the counter. I swiped it before the man could pick up his meal.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    The guy was young, maybe in his early twenties. He wore the same rags as everyone else who would go to this joint, but his face ticked me off. It was all beady and squintish like. It reminded me of that weasel of an interrogator. Could¡¯ve been his son for all I knew.


    I picked him up by his neck. His anger quickly turned to horror as he realized just who I was.


    ¡°Ask yourself this.¡± I grinned. ¡°Do you really want to mess with me?¡±


    He choked out a noise and shook his head rapidly.


    I threw him to the floor. Not hard enough to hurt him, I wasn¡¯t a monster after all. Everyone else gasped, horrified, and they all started running for the exit. The man yelled and scrambled away with them. Holding my meal in my hands, I turned to the tin can with the crooked mustache.


    ¡°Alert. Alert. You have been recorded causing a public disturbance. Please wait until the police arrive.¡±


    ¡°You always were a stupid robot. You know that?¡± I asked it.


    ¡°Alert. Alert. You have¡ª¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    I reached over the counter and snapped off the mustache. The piece of iron was like putty in my hands. I tossed the scrap of metal behind me. ¡°Tell me, did they program you to run? Or are you just as disposable as the rest of this garbage dump?¡±


    ¡°Alert. Alert¡ª¡±


    I pulled out its microphone mouth and crushed it in my hands. ¡°I¡¯m a nice man. You have three seconds to prove me wrong. One¡­¡± I held out my finger to flick it in the forehead. The tin can rumbled, monotonously trying to say the same thing as it always did. ¡°Two¡­¡± The robot still blankly looked at me, never understanding the danger. ¡°Three.¡±


    Flicking my finger, the oversized tin-can went crashing through the wall and into the kitchen behind it. The automated restaurant exploded with grease and debris and machine parts. An alarm sounded, and I heard the doors lock behind me. I ripped them off their hinges and chucked them in the back as well. A fire caught up and soon the whole place was burning.


    Looking both ways, I heard sirens in the distance. Though with my super hearing, I could tell they were nowhere near my location.


    I was still smiling ear from fuckin ear when I took off into the night, flying around to shop for places to eat. I found this really nice penthouse on the top floor of a skyscraper. All the windows were broken, and the place was thoroughly looted¡ªhonestly, it now looked like a concrete hovel, but it had a nice view of the city. I grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the edge. Sitting down, I opened up my meal.


    Surprise! Surprise! Inside was a cheeseburger and a bag of fries. I regretted not swiping a drink when I had the chance, but it didn¡¯t matter now. I bit into my cheeseburger and tore a piece off. As I overlooked the dark city, I wondered just which cheeseburger had tasted more delicious. Was it the one that cost me everything, or was it the one that cost me nothing?


    Sitting on top of the world, I¡¯m not going to lie; it felt pretty great. But as I continued chewing, the burger didn¡¯t fill me up like it had before. I suppose it couldn¡¯t anymore. I mean, the flavor was all there, don¡¯t get me wrong. All that wonderful, greasy slob that made the tastebuds go crazy was still there. But there was also something visceral that was missing. When I swallowed, I didn¡¯t get any pleasure from it. My stomach wasn¡¯t satiated. It didn¡¯t feel much of anything. Halfway through, I got bored with the burger and tossed it away. I kicked the rest of the bag off the skyscraper.


    I leaned back in my chair and took in the view. It was nice up here. Quiet, but nice. You never got a lot of that in City 57. There was always someone chattering louder than they should or some distant gunfire or some drug addict muttering in the corner. And if it was quiet, it meant you were in a really bad part of town. And that meant you needed to get out of there fast.


    This quiet felt more¡­ peaceful, if you know what I mean. For the first time in my life, I think I realized what that word meant. I was always going from work to dumpster diving to work. And when I wasn¡¯t doing any of those things, I was sleeping with one eye open. I never had the time to stop and think about things.


    But looking on the shadowy skyscrapers of City 57, I just felt sad and alone. I don¡¯t know. I look back on my life, and I don¡¯t even understand what I could¡¯ve done differently. But I still feel like I somehow wasted it. I don¡¯t know how or why, but deep down, there was something I missed all those times when I was begging for my next meal. There was something more to things than surviving, even when you were starving. And just as the sun was beginning to rise over City 57, that feeling awoke me.


    It wasn¡¯t that bullshit you still see on advertisements about ¡°living your life to the fullest¡±. I don¡¯t know who still believed in that these days. A pretty woman got to lounge on a beach, trying to sell you shampoo, meanwhile you¡¯re considering whether the toilet water is safe to drink. A man¡¯s got to have a reason to stick around¡ªa good reason. I just didn¡¯t know I needed one until now.


    I relaxed back in my chair and closed my eyes. Look at Adam Mason! Having a religious epiphany! What will he do next!? Start up a charity for all the good little boys and girls in Gen Pop!?


    I chuckled to myself. Nah, but I¡¯m going to be honest. I didn¡¯t know what to do with this feeling. I wanted something, but I didn¡¯t know what it was or how to get it. When I got my super powers, all I thought about was what I was going to take first. But now, I just wished I had someone to talk to.


    Yeah, maybe I would¡¯ve liked a friend. Wish I had one.


    My ears picked up a humming noise that rose above the general hubbub of the city. As I said before, my senses had been dialed up¡ªbut it was in a very convenient way. It wasn¡¯t that my hearing had increased, loud noises remained the same as they always did. It was that I could just pick apart sounds a lot more. The humming grew louder and louder until it suddenly turned into a roar¡ªa roar that was heading right for me.


    I opened my eyes just in time to see a missile aimed square at my face.


    ¡°Oh shi¡ª¡±


    I didn¡¯t feel the impact or the explosion. All I registered was utter chaos in my senses¡ªnoise and light and a vague stinging sensation as I was flung backward and the world turned to fire around me. I vaguely recall landing on my side and rolling until I slammed against some rubble. I groaned, not out of pain, but out of reflex. I regained my senses, and I got up on one knee.


    After all that, I would say I was mildly miffed.


    I had to take a moment to process what had just happened. My heart was still pounding in my chest. That was the part of me that still hadn¡¯t adjusted to the new Adam Mason. I still thought I could die. I still thought I could be hurt. I picked myself up and dusted myself off, looking through the burning remains of the penthouse as it collapsed around me. It was then I realized I was now completely naked. My clothes had been vaporized in the blast.


    There were not a lot of ways to piss me off anymore. That was one of them.


    I clenched my fists. ¡°Oh, you son of a bitch.¡±


    I exploded out from the building, flying towards the drone that had fired the missile. The remote operator didn¡¯t have a chance to react as I flew through the drone, splitting it in two. Metal sheared apart, the machine exploded and fell to the ground. And now I was naked and flying over the city skyline. At least it would be difficult to see my junk from up so far.


    Glancing around, I saw dozens of other drones converging on my position. They weren¡¯t around around me¡ªlike a good many of them were several miles off. But it was still a fucking lot. The night sky was peppered with them like giant flocks of birds. I gritted my teeth. Fighting City 57¡¯s entire defense network naked hadn¡¯t been on my to-do list, but they were the ones who picked this fight.


    Well, to call it a fight wouldn¡¯t do it justice. All their fancy equipment couldn¡¯t keep up with me.I zipped through drones quickly and easily as one pops bubblewrap. Many opened fire with anti-vehicle rounds that bounced off me harmlessly. More missiles were fired, though I evaded these ones. The people controlling these things must¡¯ve been shitting their pants because the drones started to run away.


    Again, I was faster. And as the sky was thinning, I decided to get creative before the night was up. I took one drone and held it as a baseball bat. Another one launched another missile at me. All right. I took a deep breath. Batter! Batter! Swing!


    Unfortunately, I was terrible at baseball and the drone was a worse bat. It snapped in half, and the missile hit me square in the face again. I was covered in black soot, but the hit didn¡¯t even faze me.


    Looking down on the city, I could see hundreds of little fires from the wreckage. The morning sky had seen its crimson rain, and I wasn¡¯t even getting tired.


    I noticed two drones flying higher than the rest. They had this invisible cloak surrounding them, but my eyes could pick them up easily. They seemed awfully expensive, and more than that, more fun dummies for target practice. I didn¡¯t have a great swing, but my throwing arm had just gotten several thousand times stronger. I flew down and picked up two molten chunks of metal, and soon, two more very expensive piles of debris were added to the rest.


    Touching down on the roof of a nearby skyscraper, I relaxed and enjoyed the show, watching all the smoke rising in the air. Hopefully that would get them off my back for the time being. And if it didn¡¯t, then maybe I would send them a louder message.


    I did remember the Ghost¡¯s words right after he jabbed me, but I honestly didn¡¯t feel like fighting, especially killing anyone else for that matter. I just wanted to be left alone.


    It occurred to me that might be wishful thinking. I was now one of the biggest threats in the nation. Hell, I just destroyed billions of credits in equipment without so much as breaking a sweat. They would be forced to come after me until they took me down¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t ever going to happen.


    I realized that this exact scenario is what they were so terrified of. I was the walking reason why the ASA and Gen Pop existed. There was now someone they couldn¡¯t control. Someone was outside the system, and they were all shitting their pants because of it. Everything they had done¡ªeverything they built¡ªcould fall apart in an instant if someone with the strength and will came around to blow their little house of cards away.


    And maybe the thought that terrified them most was that maybe someone should tear it all down. They had their chance at running things, and they had blown it. If I wanted to set myself up as king of this festering country, who was going to stop me?


    Almost in answer to that question, I heard someone approaching¡ªflying. I waited a few minutes, and a pair of boots landed behind me. There was a strange popping noise, and I sensed three others appeared as well. The only thought that ran through my head was this:


    Ah damn, I wish I had a pair of clothes.

 Chapter Ten

    Daniel Peterson


    It had been code red over at the Defenders¡¯ Tower as every drone in the city had been reduced to burning wreckage over the dark morning sky. Walter was shrieking at us from our watches, but I had no taste to intervene when super hobo was wrecking the entire defense fleet with ease, and from the look on The Blue Justice¡¯s face, he didn¡¯t either.


    I could already imagine the footage being streamed all over the internet. Debris and fiery metal was raining everywhere on the city below. A lot of people were going to get hurt, both from the falling wreckage and from the dry tinderbox that was City 57. I could already see great plumes of smoke from where several shantytowns had caught fire.


    I groaned, picturing the outrage. Where were the Urban Defenders!? Why weren¡¯t they saving people!? Why weren¡¯t they opposing this menace!? I got news for you. The Urban Defenders were shitting their pants alongside everyone else. But to tell you the truth, I¡¯m not even sure we could¡¯ve stopped Adam Mason even if we wanted to. Or rather, if The Blue Justice wanted to.


    He was fucking terrified. I had never seen John so tense before, and that made me more worried than anything.


    As much as I hated his guts, John was still the leader. He was Walter¡¯s poster child. He was the one StarCorp chose. And as much as I was loath to admit it, he was also the one who occasionally wrangled all of us in line.


    I saw him take a deep breath, and he tried to swell up his chest. I could already see him cooking up a speech in his head. If his costume looked as ridiculous as ours, it would¡¯ve been comical. But John was the corporate darling, and the costume designers actually did a good job of making him look the part of a hero. He wore a blue uniform with a white star emblazoned on the chest. The bulky muscles and abs were just padding made to look real, but he looked imposing nonetheless. Out of all us, he was the only one who could pass for a B-Rank.


    ¡°So, do we have a plan?¡± I asked our fearless leader, hoping to be spared the pep talk and get down to business.


    It was hard to make out in the fiery sky, but we saw Mason fly back to one of the skyscrapers. Apparently, the show was over.


    John turned to us and crossed his arms. ¡°The plan is we see how strong he is. Probe for weaknesses. Listen, all of you, we¡¯ve been training for this day for a long time. We¡¯re ready. We¡¯ve been through the simulations against a class five a hundred times. Me and Yellow Bolt are going to open with everything we¡¯ve got. Atomic Girl, you¡¯re on support. Try to restrain our target with forcefields, and if you can¡¯t, try to deflect some of his attacks. Nighthawk¡­¡± The Blue Justice glanced at me with none of his usual snark. He was completely professional¡ªsomething new for both of us. ¡°You¡¯re in the rear. If things go south for any of us, it¡¯ll be up to you to reposition and get us out.¡± He nodded at me with a reassuring smile.


    Oh wow, we really were fucked.


    I guess that plan sounded good on paper if it wasn¡¯t coached straight from Walter. The real plan was to go in completely blind after seeing a single man wipe out all the attack drones in City 57 and pray he was winded by that exercise. If not, then it was going to be on me to get everyone out of there alive¡ªif not in one piece.


    I gotta say, I never thought I was ever going to be put in actual danger working this job. Not once had I ever been put in a situation I couldn¡¯t deal with. The most I had to do was teleport some poor bastard up ten stories and then drop him. Or, if the reporters wanted something particularly gruesome, I would teleport him inside some concrete and let him suffocate. With this guy, I could do neither.


    I was out of my depth, and if it wasn¡¯t for Atomic Girl, I would¡¯ve turned tail and ran at that moment. Nothing back at StarCorp was worth getting an arm rammed through my chest, that¡¯s for sure.


    ¡°All right.¡± The Blue Justice sucked in a deep breath. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± He took off flying towards the skyscraper.


    I placed my hands on Yellow Bolt and Atomic Girl and we teleported from rooftop to rooftop, following the Blue Justice shortly behind. The Ranger¡ªCarl¡ªwasn¡¯t there for obvious reasons. Thank goodness Walter wasn¡¯t an idiot. It was one less life that I had to worry about. But you know, I never thought I¡¯d ever be envious of Carl.


    As we popped in and out of reality across City 57, I would¡¯ve done anything in the world to trade places with him.


    We appeared shortly behind The Blue Justice on a rooftop. Just five feet in front of us, Adam Mason sat on the edge of the building, dangling his legs over the open air. He was covered in black soot from all the drones he destroyed, but he didn¡¯t look any worse for wear after all the damage he did.


    And he was naked.


    ¡°You¡­ uh¡­ forget something there, chief?¡± The Blue Justice asked, more caught off guard than anything else.


    Hobo stood up and turned to us. I kept my gaze eye level.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not in my best. Missiles and all that, y¡¯know?¡± he said.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± The Blue Justice replied, unsure of how to respond to that.


    To be fair, I didn¡¯t know how I would¡¯ve responded either. This was not how I expected our first (and hopefully last) encounter to go down.


    ¡°Listen, if it¡¯s all the same to you, I would rather not have to fight naked. And I¡¯m sure it¡¯s even more awkward for you guys. Why don¡¯t we call a truce, and I can get some pants, and we can do this tomorrow?¡±


    I very much wanted to say yes to that arrangement. In fact, that was the best thing I heard all day. I don¡¯t have to fight the super powered crazy man who could crush my skull with his fist? That was a very good deal.


    ¡°You¡¯re under arrest,¡± The Blue Justice put on his gruff voice while I cringed. ¡°Come with us, and we won¡¯t have to hurt you.¡±


    I don¡¯t know if John suddenly thought he could take Mason because the other guy was naked. I mean, the homeless dude did not look imposing in the slightest. He was several inches shorter than John, and he had less muscle. If you were betting man, it was essentially the clown versus the manlet.


    But that was forgetting the wreckage of an entire defense fleet now strewn across City 57. I braced myself, ready to teleport Atomic Girl out of there if it came to it.


    Mason raised his arms. ¡°Do you really think you can take me? Believe me, I don¡¯t want to hurt any of you.¡±


    ¡°Take the deal, John,¡± I hissed to The Blue Justice.


    This whole thing was a farce, and I didn¡¯t feel like getting killed for it. Let the B-Ranks clean this mess up for all I could care. Fuck Walter and our social media! I didn¡¯t want to die!


    The Blue Justice glanced back at me with utter contempt in his eyes. My eyes widened as I realized my mistake, but it was too late. He lunged forward and punched Mason right in the jaw. I heard a loud crack as Mason was sent flying into the city below.


    John turned to the rest of us. Putting one foot on the edge like he was trying to be cool, he exploded at us. ¡°Get your shit together! All of you! We¡¯re the Urban Defenders, and this is our city! You''re supposed to be fucking heroes! Stop pussyfooting in your boots just because you were asked to do your fucking jobs for once! You¡¯re supposed to put your lives on the line! Stop being crybabies and act like it!¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    That got the others¡¯ attention, but I just crossed my arms and shook my head in disbelief. We weren¡¯t anything. We were¡ª


    I didn¡¯t have time to finish my thought when Mason appeared right behind The Blue Justice with vengeance in his eyes. Before John could even turn around, Mason slapped him down into the roof. Almost faster than my eye could track, John went crashing through the concrete, several walls below, and then exploded into a cloud of dust, falling off the side of the skyscraper.


    Mason rotated his jaw and rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°Okay, so which one of you is going to be next?¡±


    I had my hand on Atomic Girl¡¯s shoulder in a heartbeat. Meanwhile, Yellow Bolt raised his hands and unleashed the full power of a lightning storm on the man. Teleporting us to the roof of another building, I saw gigantic arcs of electricity consume the rooftop we had been on.


    ¡°We have to go back there!¡± Atomic Girl shouted at me. ¡°Rob¡¯s in danger!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s on him!¡± I yelled back. ¡°We¡¯re just going to get ourselves killed! What can¡¯t you see about that!?¡±


    ¡°Because Rob¡¯s my friend! And he¡¯s yours too!¡± Atomic Girl shouted.


    I wanted to claw my own eyes. This whole situation was beyond stupid. And just to make things worse, Walter¡¯s voice screamed at me through the watch.


    ¡°Nighthawk, what the fuck do you think you¡¯re doing!? Get yourself and Atomic Girl back in there, or you¡¯re both getting booted back to Gen Pop!¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t fight him! He¡¯s going to kill us!¡± I snapped back at the watch. ¡°The Blue Justice could be dead already! Give us the fucking order to withdraw!¡±


    ¡°You think I care!? We don¡¯t bring in Mason here and now, our whole operation goes under! Everything is ride or die on this! And if you can¡¯t do your job as superheroes, that¡¯s on you.¡±


    I looked over to Atomic Girl who heard every word of that. Her face was ashen white, but I saw the choice had resolved in her mind. ¡°We can do this,¡± she said. ¡°We just have to work together. We can take him down.¡±


    I wanted to scream at the madness of the situation, but seeing as Walter took retreat off the table, I guess it was ride or die.


    ¡°All right,¡± I said, glancing back to make sure Yellow Bolt was even still alive. Lightning was still crackling, so I guess that was something. ¡°We¡¯re going to make a little revision to the plan. Once I teleport us there, you¡¯re going to keep your distance. Save your energy. This is going to be a war of attrition. Don¡¯t try to restrain Mason. Just keep yourself and Yellow Bolt alive while I find John. You got that?¡±


    Atomic Girl nodded.


    I gritted my teeth. It was all completely insane, but I didn¡¯t have a choice either. I put my hand on Atomic Girl¡¯s shoulder, and we were back on the rooftop. Yellow Bolt was still firing electricity at Mason, but he couldn¡¯t keep it up forever. Meanwhile, our favorite homeless man stood there without a scratch on him.


    Atomic Girl threw up energy discs, ready to use them as shields if Mason got close. I didn¡¯t know if they would even slow him down. I hoped they would. I turned to go look for The Blue Justice, but I hesitated. I kept my grip firmly on her shoulder, waiting to see what Adam would do next.


    ¡°Really?¡± Mason asked, crossing his arms as he stood totally unharmed in the lightning. ¡°Can we stop now? I don¡¯t have anything against you, but if you keep trying to annoy me, I¡¯ll finish this.¡±


    ¡°You know what? How about we talk this out?¡± I begged Yellow Bolt, trying desperately to be the reasonable person in this clusterfuck.


    ¡°You don¡¯t get it, do you Daniel?¡± Yellow Bolt yelled at me, panting for breath. ¡°You think I¡¯m going back to the ASA and Gen Pop? You were born and bred in super camp! Some of us had to claw our way to the top!¡±


    I sighed, so none of us were going to be reasonable. That was fantastic. Continuing to shoot lightning at ultra hobo was obviously going to de-escalate the situation.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m just saying maybe we shouldn¡¯t kill ourselves!¡± I shouted at the idiot.


    ¡°Yeah, well,¡± Yellow Bolt replied, turning back to Mason. ¡°Some lives aren¡¯t worth living.¡± And he increased the voltage.


    ¡°Your lightning friend makes a good point.¡± Mason shrugged. ¡°Some lives aren¡¯t worth living. Tell you what, how about you go get blue man and bring him back here, and we¡¯ll finish this once and for all.¡±


    ¡°Fuck all of you!¡± I teleported away. And as much as hated it, The Blue Justice was the only one who made so much as a bruise on this guy. I could only hope he was still in one piece.


    Well, I found our beloved leader laying on a pile of broken glass in the side of a nearby building. His face was bloodied and purple. There were cuts and scrapes all over him, but he was alive and conscious, which was a lot more than I was expecting. He struggled to sit up.


    ¡°That son of a bitch.¡± He wiped the blood away from his nose. ¡°Just give me a minute, I need¡ª¡± He fell back on the floor.


    I could tell he was out of this fight, or he soon would be if Mason got his hands on him. The guy was in a different league altogether. There was no chance we could beat him¡ªand I was the only one willing to admit that. My heart fell in my chest as I realized that, if something didn¡¯t change, the whole team was going to get killed.


    ¡°Teleport me back.¡± John groaned. ¡°And I¡¯ll get back in the fight.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot. You know that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a superhero.¡± The Blue Justice spat out very red blood. ¡°Can¡¯t back down. Got nothing else.¡±


    ¡°Can you just stop with the act for just¡ª¡± I shut up when I saw the look on John¡¯s face. He was desperate. He was trying his hardest to keep things together, but broken and bloodied as he was, he couldn¡¯t hide that look of fear in his eyes.


    I never really understood John or why he did what he did. To be honest, I never tried to begin with. But I think I began to understand then. Being a superhero was the only good thing we were allowed to be. It was the only good thing we had going for us, especially after all the terrible things we¡¯ve done. And though it was just a social media fad, John needed it to be real. He needed some small part of it to be real, even after all the bullshit photoshoots and the interviews and the autographs. He was just broken as the rest of us, searching for something he could cling to.


    I had hated his guts ever since I met him, but right then and there, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to throw him back in that meat grinder. I didn¡¯t want to see any of them die, not even him. And I realized that I was the only one left who could be the adult in the room.


    I held my hand out, and John took it, stumbling to his feet. He fell onto my shoulder, and I had to support him to keep John upright.


    ¡°Come on,¡± he grunted. ¡°Let¡¯s finish this.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied somberly. ¡°Let¡¯s end it.¡±


    I teleported him halfway into a concrete floor. He wasn¡¯t injured¡ªmass got displaced whenever I teleported. Instead, he was stuck waist deep, too weak to get out.


    ¡°What are you¡ª¡±


    I kneeled down to meet him eye level. ¡°I¡¯m not going to say I ever liked you John, but I think¡­ I think your heart is in the right place. And I respect what you¡¯re trying to do.¡±


    ¡°Get me out!¡± He yelled at me.


    ¡°Listen, fuck you¡­ but I also think you could be a good leader one day. If the Urban Defenders survive this, just put the team first before kissing Walter¡¯s ass. You want to be a superhero? You can at least be one for them.¡±


    His eyes widened. ¡°What are you¡ª?¡±


    I took off my watch. Walter would rather see his C-Rank team die than give us the order to back down, and I wasn¡¯t going to let that happen. I knew he was serious this time, and I think for the first time since I joined the Urban Defenders, so was I. Dropping the watch on the ground, I smashed it with my foot.


    ¡°See ya, John.¡±


    I teleported out. I grabbed Yellow Bolt first and placed him on the bottom floor of the skyscraper. He didn¡¯t have a chance to react before I left him. I grabbed Atomic Girl too and took her away to another rooftop. I kissed her on the cheek.


    ¡°This is probably it for me.¡±


    Taking one last look at her, I smiled. She really was the most beautiful girl in the world.


    Her look turned to panic as she realized what I had done. ¡°Wai¡ª¡±


    I was back on the roof with Adam Mason who looked bemused at this sudden turn of events.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± He asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry my dumbass friends thought they could take you.¡± I took off my purple hawk mask and tossed it away. ¡°And I don¡¯t want them to die. Please don¡¯t kill them.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Adam shrugged, rubbing his chin. ¡°I just wanted to enjoy my night, and I¡¯ve had nothing but trouble. I let your friends go, and who¡¯s to say they won¡¯t be knocking on my door in a few days time?¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t, at least, I don¡¯t think they will. The big guns are going to be rolling in soon. You¡¯ve riled up a lot of people, and they¡¯re all going to be coming for you.¡±


    Mason laughed. ¡°Let em try.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s on you, man. Just please let my friends go. They don¡¯t understand a thing.¡±


    He paused, thinking for a moment. ¡°You know, I heard your boss on the watch. It looks like you¡¯re breaking orders. Going off the reservation and all that.¡±


    I winced at that. I was not going to be looking forward to the near future. I didn¡¯t feel like going back to Gen Pop or whatever future Walter would devise for me.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said.


    ¡°Let me tell you, if there¡¯s anything I learned today, it¡¯s that you¡¯re going to be in a world of hurt.¡±


    I looked at his lack of clothes. ¡°I can see that.¡±


    Mason glanced down. ¡°Yeah, this isn¡¯t my proudest moment. Not exactly the best time to make a pitch, I know. But screw it. Your teleportation powers could come in handy for a clean getaway, and I got the muscle to take care of the rest.¡±


    ¡°You suggesting we team up?¡±


    Mason shrugged. ¡°Got anywhere else better to go?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Nowhere.¡±

 Chapter Eleven

    Seattle Vance


    ¡°So Mason was a little more powerful than I expected,¡± I remarked, flipping through the TV. Every channel was filled with the wreckage that had fallen over the city, news reporters were crawling over the goriest scenes. There was one particular incident that was being passed around. A homeless guy had made his shelter in a used car on the street. He turned it into halfway between a tent, a domicile, and a toilet.


    Anyways, a burning piece of wreckage struck his shabby little shelter, and he got trapped inside. All his buddies gathered around, recording his nasty death on their phones. There were seven or eight different angles as everyone stood uselessly like it was a fucking campfire.


    I flicked to the next channel, disgusted.


    The fires had largely been left to burn out on their own. There were many areas of City 57 that went without emergency services, and sadly, those happened to be the ones that were hit the hardest by Mason¡¯s flying antics. But besides, no one would be bothered to clean up anyway. The whole city was holding its breath, waiting for what Adam would break next. Why go and put out fires when the whole block might be leveled tomorrow?


    Having fought in Cairo, I knew the mood very well. When abnormals get involved, pretty much everyone just sort of¡­ stops. They lay down and take it because they know there¡¯s no point. I mean, what are you supposed to do when Omni-Dude can demolish half the city, and there¡¯s not a damn thing you can do about it? People give up. Suicides skyrocket. People die before they¡¯re even dead.


    I suppose I couldn¡¯t blame them for that. But what pissed me off were the other ones, the people who thought they could profit off the situation. I flicked to a channel where a newsman was red-faced, screaming into the camera as he shouted threats to the new public menace. He was making it look like Mason had launched a personal crusade against the city, already rallying people around the burnt guy as if he was a martyr. And there were a thousand more journalists just like him, each one with their own angle to whip up the frenzy.


    Maybe Mason had a vendetta. If he did, I honestly couldn¡¯t blame him. Seeing the whole of City 57 looking to profit over the people killed in the crossfire made me want to puke.


    I flipped to another channel. This one was showing the CCTV footage of a Maccie¡¯s fast-food restaurant. The fuzzy footage showed Adam walking in and choking out a random customer. Swiping a burger, he then flicked the robot into the kitchen and walked out with a shit eating grin on his face.


    ¡°Enjoy it.¡± I nodded. Truly, I hoped he did. He didn¡¯t have much time left.


    ¡°Fucking hell.¡± I finally heard Joshua¡¯s voice. He had been hunched over his computer monitors, silently scrolling the city and searching for Mason. ¡°You unleashed fucking Captain Eagle 2.0. What was in that enzyme?¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders. I didn¡¯t know if it was something Joker didn¡¯t tell me, or whether that was just the lucky roll of the dice. Enzymes had different effects on different people. You could be assured of the powers it would manifest, but the strength was shaky depending on the compatibility of the individual. Mason might very well be approaching a class six in terms of raw power. However, the stronger he was, the quicker his body was going to burn out. When the deterioration started, he was going to go downhill fast.


    ¡°You think you can find him?¡± I asked. ¡°I need to be able to reach out if I¡¯m going to get him onboard.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, don¡¯t worry about that. Our boy isn¡¯t exactly discreet. But what are you going to say to convince him to attack the ASA?¡±


    I sighed. I¡¯ve told a lotta lies over the years, and it kills the feeling in you after a while. You strangle a part of yourself when you¡¯re dishonest. And what¡¯s worse, you get mixed up in the head. You start believing your own bullshit, and then that dirty lie starts to become the real you. And to tell you the truth, I didn¡¯t know where the real Seattle Vance began and ended anymore.


    But this particular lie felt nasty. It rubbed me the wrong way, like some grit that was stuck in my brain. I¡¯ve done a lotta things to a lotta people, but I¡¯ve never lied to a dying man. And of all my sins, that was the one which felt like I was crossing a line the real Seattle Vance never would.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to paint a big red bullseye on it,¡± I said, feeling guilty as fuck. ¡°Man¡¯s going to be desperate soon. I tell him what he needs is in that building.¡±


    Joshua glanced back at me. ¡°You¡¯re going to lie to super hobo? And what happens when he finds out?¡±


    ¡°Hopefully, I¡¯ll be long gone.¡±


    ¡°You better hope so,¡± Joshua warned. ¡°It took a nuclear war to put Captain Eagle down. You don¡¯t want to be on the business end of this guy.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try to keep that in mind.¡± I joked.


    ¡­


    Everything felt squalid, and it wasn¡¯t just because I knew my plan was as shabby as a cardboard rent-a-box taped over with duct tape. There was a mass in my gut that just didn¡¯t want to go away, and it made me uncomfortable as I walked invisibly down the shantytown streets of City 57.


    Every once in a while, I get ¡°what the fuck are you doing?¡± moments that make me self-reflect. Was I really going to storm the ASA building with a bunch of randos and explosives and just hope I made it out with the flash drive? There were so many ifs, ands, and buts that the scheme felt more like a fever dream than a to-do list. I was the guy who didn¡¯t wear a seat belt because he was betting on getting ejected in the car accident.


    I was sure Mr. Greene only agreed because he knew it was a suicide mission, and he wanted to kill two birds with one stone: killing me and framing CitySec. But that rushed rationale I fed him sounded like Swiss cheese the more and more I considered it. Hey, I¡¯m not exactly great at coming up with master schemes while a gun is pointed at my head.


    But then why did he agree? Why did things go my way?


    Questions. Questions.


    I don¡¯t know how powerful or wide reaching the Index was. I don¡¯t think anyone truly did. The organization was so heavily compartmentalized that no one knew the full scope. I knew they worked internationally, and I knew their services were solid. But remembering that vault filled with locked safe boxes, I got the feeling the organization hadn¡¯t flexed its true muscles yet. And when it did, the whole of the Democratic Union was going to feel it.


    Going visible again in a discreet corner, I stepped out in front of a Mexican restaurant. I say ¡°restaurant¡±, but it was really a garbage heap turned kitchen.


    I¡¯ve been to a lot of slums¡ªthey¡¯re practically everywhere in the Democratic Union. But you get a certain sense of geography after a while. A lot of places up north preferred to use cobbled-together shipping containers. After all, they¡¯re easy to transport, easy to use, easy to forget that you¡¯re living in a glorified fucking scrap heap.


    This place was a maze of one to two story containers, their colors all long faded. They were all welded together to make proper houses and the like. Most didn¡¯t have doors, only tarps thrown over entrances. Dirty faces hardly paid me any attention as they squatted and waited out the winter. Graffiti was everywhere, the only art form that still mattered in the 2090s. You know, I was a kid when the last of the spray cans were finally used up. Since then, apparently a whole market sprung up scavenging paint, scraping them out from the interiors of houses or raiding crumbling factories for chemical leftovers.


    In bright blue coloring, the word Andele! was written on a shipping container. Dog was being cooked inside, though if you¡¯re like me, any burning meat smells delicious. A pale kid was waiting at the entrance on a stool. He was how I knew I found the right place. A low priority in a place like this? It was a flag that this place was under certain ownership.


    He looked up at me with tired blue eyes and nodded. Jumping off the stool, he led me inside and towards the back of the slophouse. There was a discreet storage closet with a false back. The boy pulled on a lever disguised as a shelf, and the wall slid back to reveal a staircase leading down.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The boy took me through a quick series of concrete tunnels that I assumed used to be part of the subway system back when City 57 was New York.


    Most of the network had been destroyed or caved in or otherwise flooded, as no one could afford to maintain it anymore. It became the underground realm of entrepreneurs like Joshua, looking to capitalize on all the ancient infrastructure. And from all appearances, the Index had done a good job for themselves.


    These tunnels were only a little less advanced than Joshua¡¯s set up. Electric lighting was strung along the walls. The floors and walls were all immaculate, recently poured concrete. And I couldn¡¯t help but notice discreet explosives and turrets tucked away in corners.I swear I felt I was walking through one of the bunkers in Iceland rather than the dilapidated ruins of the old world.


    The boy opened one last steel door, and I stepped into a former subway control center refurbished into a private meeting room.


    I don¡¯t know, meeting room isn¡¯t quite the right word to capture it. There was a gun rack stocked full of assault rifles and a minibar. I chuckled to myself and shook my head. In the center of the room was a big oak table with a projection interface which was appreciably more high tech than my encounter with Mr. Greene.


    The three individuals picked for the mission had already arrived. They all had codenames to hide their real identities, but I could tell who was who at first glance.


    Raven was a dark-haired woman with brown eyes and a sharp face. She wore a similarly black jumpsuit that covered her thin frame. I couldn¡¯t tell what age she was, but she appeared to be in her late thirties. Her superpower was a class one telepathy. But from reading the description of her ability, I would¡¯ve preferred to call it mental interrogation. Sure, she could only use it on one person, and it took some time, but she could shred your mind apart until she got the information she needed. Despite having such an¡­ unpleasant superpower, she didn¡¯t seem as dour a person I expected. Just a straight professional.


    August was a younger man with combed white hair. He had a round face that looked somewhat transparent, almost like it had a layer of frost on it. He was wearing an oversized blue hoodie and jeans. His ability was a class two temperature control. Specifically, he could freeze things within a short radius. He was the only one who looked like he was enjoying himself, and he had a grin that might¡¯ve been annoying to some, but I found it rather endearing.


    The last on the list was my personal pick. Dust was a class one phaser, meaning he could make parts of himself intangible along with small objects. He was the youngest out of all of us¡ªmaybe fifteen years old. Wearing a t-shirt and a jacket and some jogging pants, he wasn¡¯t exactly much to look at.


    But, to be fair, I hadn¡¯t been either at that age. Some might rightfully take moral umbrage in putting a kid in danger, but that was the day-to-day of every single person in this room. We all got our starts running dangerous jobs. That was how life was if you wanted to live outside of Gen Pop. You did the things others couldn¡¯t, and you got good at it. The life¡ªand often death¡ªof a survivor was the only kind afforded to people like us.


    All of them looked at me as I entered the room. The pale kid shut the door behind me, and left us in private.


    Mr. Greene elected not to make an appearance. Again, that compartmentalization of the Index. Members often didn¡¯t know who the bossman was, and it struck me at that moment that Mr. Greene himself might not be the bossman. Sure, he talked a big game, but who was I to know if someone else was pulling his strings? Either way, I saw a discreet camera in a dark corner of the ceiling.


    The message was clear though. This was still their operation. I was just the guy who happened to be the face of it.


    ¡°Nice to finally meet you all in person,¡± I said as I stepped up to the oak table. ¡°For this gig, just refer to me as the Ghost.¡± I winked.


    Both August and Dust snickered while Raven crossed her arms.


    ¡°You should¡¯ve already been filled in on the general details, but in case you haven¡¯t, our mission is a frame job on the regional ASA headquarters in City 57. We expect moderate to heavy security, and I¡¯ll be arranging some muscle to provide a distraction. Our job is to get in and make a mess of things. We¡¯ll be planting explosives in the garage and two separate server rooms. Mr. Greene will also be providing us some malware stolen from a CitySec hacker farm. Make sure to smile for the cameras, ladies and gentlemen. As of today, you¡¯re getting new identities as poached CitySec talent.¡±


    That last part was the finishing touch by the Index. They had their hands in a large share of the identification fraud market here. My team were now filed into government databases as on CitySec payroll as low-cost foreign staff¡ªwhich was how CitySec secretly imported most of their mercenaries. By the time we were through, they were going to look as guilty as all sin.


    ¡°What about the second part? The part about stealing a list?¡± Dust asked.


    He had a pensive look on his face. They all did to an extent. No one here was stupid enough to think this was going to be easy. But Dust had trouble concealing it like the others. I could already tell this was his first big job.


    Would rather have not put a kid like him in his position, but he had a unique power that made him invaluable to me. He was my personal emergency button.


    ¡°Objective number two is something called the Skeleton List,¡± I told them. ¡°Consider it a file that has all the names too scary for your average blacklist. I have good reason to believe it¡¯s in the ASA headquarters here in City 57.


    ¡°From the details, we¡¯re only getting paid for the frame job. Why should we care?¡± Raven crossed her arms.


    ¡°If we get that list, I¡¯ll personally pay you all triple,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re talking about some of the most sensitive info in the Democratic Union, and I¡¯ve got more than a few prospective buyers. You¡¯ll never have to work another day in your life again.¡±


    I took a moment to let that sink for them.


    ¡°All right,¡± August perked up. ¡°What¡¯s the specs? I assume we¡¯re not just walking in there.¡±


    ¡°Course not.¡± I booted up the holo projector, and it displayed a map of City 57.


    I confess, I¡¯ve always wondered what all the Old American cities used to look like in their heyday¡ªbefore the bombs. Though few people remember that the nukes actually did very little damage, comparatively speaking. Hundreds of missiles had malfunctioned during the conflict, most of them launching decades after their expiration date. More than a few fell from the sky like metal duds. It was the people who really tore down the old world, stripping it of everything it was worth.


    City 57¡¯s story was not an unusual one. New York was hit with the equivalent of several low-grade dirty bombs instead of an outright nuclear blast. It was the chaos that killed most people, not the radioactive fallout. For City 57, Manhattan was rendered unsafe to live and left to the gangs who remained in the poisonous ruin. After order was restored, civilization became what was formerly Brooklyn and Staten Island. Queens became the dumping ground of the new society, and The Bronx was the dumping grounds of the dumping ground. Outside that was the new America, large stretches of wasteland with various pockets of civilization interconnected by what remained of the highways.


    I zoomed the map on the ASA headquarters, smack right in the middle of the renovated sections of City 57. It was part of the ¡°reconstruction¡± bill that was supposed to bring the Democratic Union back into eminence. Instead, it amounted to a bunch of ugly skyscrapers and not much else.


    ¡°I¡¯ve obtained schematics of the building as well as the layout of the surrounding area. As you might already know, the ASA headquarters was purposefully built over a series of tunnels now used as containment chambers for abnormals.¡±


    ¡°We enter here.¡± I pointed to a building that was currently being used as a homeless encampment. ¡°There¡¯s a maintenance shaft which connects to the lower floors of the headquarters. From there, it¡¯s a matter of getting passcodes to the elevator.¡± I looked over to Raven as she nodded along.


    ¡°After that, we split up. We¡¯ll be dressed as security guards. Dust, you¡¯ll be a janitor. Once we¡¯re safely in the elevator, we¡¯ll then proceed to our positions. August, you and Raven will go to the security room on the thirteenth floor.¡± I zoomed in further to the floor and highlighted the location. ¡°August is going to use his freezing power to break into the room, and Raven, you¡¯ll be interrogating for the know how to work the system. You¡¯re going to turn off the building¡¯s defenses and giving us a bird¡¯s eye angle from the surveillance system.¡±


    ¡°Access to the security room is going to have its own passcodes not known to general personnel. If we break in, that¡¯s going to set off major alarms.¡± August pointed out.


    ¡°And that¡¯s where our muscle comes in. I trust you¡¯ve all heard of our new class five roaming the streets? He¡¯s going to attack the ASA headquarters head on. Once you are in position, I¡¯ll alert him for the go-ahead. You¡¯ll be in complete control of the security room, and by the time anyone thinks to check, we¡¯ll be long gone.¡±


    August nodded.


    ¡°Meanwhile, Dust and I will be planting the explosives. We¡¯ll start with the garage as we¡¯re least likely to run into trouble there. That¡¯ll give you time to take the security room, and you can watch out for us as we proceed to the server rooms. After we finish, me and Dust will proceed here.¡±


    I pointed at the twenty-fifth floor. The blue room on the map was officially labeled as a storage closet. It was a bit bigger than one would expect, but there was nothing suspicious about it. There were no in-depth security systems or anything of the sort. That was probably the point. Those in the need-to-know could walk in, retrieve what information they needed, and leave without anyone noticing. Even their own personnel would be clueless.


    ¡°There is going to be a bullet-proof case disguised as a circuit breaker. Dust is going to reach in, snag the goods, and then we all egress back out the way we came.¡±


    The others all looked reasonably satisfied with the plan. It wasn¡¯t without its risks, but everything this dangerous came with risks, and the payout would be more than worth it. Only Dust still looked somewhat disquieted.


    ¡°What about Adam Mason? You didn¡¯t outline a plan for him, and¡­ shouldn¡¯t he be here? I mean, what happens to him? What¡¯s his exit plan?¡±


    I opened my mouth, surprised at the kid¡¯s perceptiveness. He had a head on his shoulders, that was for sure. I wanted to brush his question off or make a quick lie, but for some reason, my smart mouth decided now was a good time to clam up.


    Maybe it was another line I thought I would never cross, another lie I thought I would never have to tell. It¡¯s just¡­ it made something in me hesitate. I don¡¯t know why lying to this kid came harder to me than beating Mason within an inch of his life. Maybe I just don¡¯t like hurting people when they can¡¯t see it coming. Doesn¡¯t feel right at all. People deserve to know the truth. If you¡¯re going to hurt a man, take away everything he¡¯s ever loved, then you should do it to his face. And you should tell him why you¡¯re doing it.


    I never had that chance, and that¡¯s why I could never let it go. That¡¯s why I was going to get that list. That¡¯s why the ASA was going to pay in blood.


    ¡°He¡¯ll figure his own way out,¡± I finally told him.

 Chapter Twelve

    Adam Mason


    I sat on a leather barstool clutching my thirteenth bottle of medical ethanol. That was the most frustrating thing about all of this. Apparently, it was nigh impossible for me to get drunk anymore. Next time I was going to experiment with something stronger to make me woozy. I don¡¯t know. Maybe I would chug gasoline or bleach or something. I wish I could turn my super powers on and off. But hey, that was the price for being invincible.


    I did have a slight headache, however. Not exactly what I was hoping for from the ethanol, but I was drinking enough to kill a normal man a hundred times over. Ah well, that was a problem for future me to solve. Maybe there was some dose out there that could make me feel like I used to¡ªthose lucky nights when I swiped a bottle of vodka and drank myself silly under the stars.


    Glancing over at my side, I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. Given the way my new friend was shooting shots of whiskey, it seemed I wasn¡¯t the only one who had trouble getting drunk.


    We had escaped with his teleportation. For a regular person, the experience would¡¯ve been nauseating as we blinked in and out of places in milliseconds. We stopped by a clothing store to get my¡­ awkward situation fixed, and then we raided nearby bars (and a hospital) for all the drinks we could carry. Then it was back to teleporting until we found ourselves in a long abandoned bar in a ruined shopping center.


    The place had been grand once. Probably a happening spot for all the rich people back in the day. It had a certain class, you know? The day¡¯s sunshine streamed in from boarded up windows. The red and gold carpet wasn¡¯t completely soggy from all the stagnant pools of water. The booths weren¡¯t completely ratted out. The tables looked fairly sturdy after decades of neglect. Hey, and the bar we sat at? There were a few bottles of tequila on the¡­ whatchamacallit, the damn shelf where they put all the liquor on display.


    I dunno.


    Whole joint was exclusive too. Nobody within several miles. We were right on the edge of civilized territory. Here there be bandits and ruffians, though since it was the two of us, we didn¡¯t exactly need to worry.


    ¡°Never thought I¡¯d be sharing a drink with the Nighthawk,¡± I finally said, trying to pick up the conversation. ¡°Or fighting the Urban Defenders for that matter.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think any of this was going to happen.¡± Daniel poured himself another shot. ¡°It¡¯s been a crazy few days.¡±


    ¡°You can say that again.¡± I sighed, still trying to process everything that happened. ¡°You know you guys technically got this whole ball rolling to begin with? That place you broke into? With The Ghost?¡±


    ¡°Seattle Vance?¡± Daniel asked.


    ¡°Yeah, I saw your news broadcast. Figured that place was good for looting. And well, I was accosted by our mutual friend, was arrested, and woke up with superpowers.¡±


    ¡°You weren¡¯t born with powers?¡± Daniel looked confused.


    I burst out laughing. ¡°Hell no. You think I would be fucking living in City 57 if I were? Nah, that Seattle guy jabbed something into my neck. I know, I know, it¡¯s the¡­ enzyme or whatever. That stuff the Democratic Union uses on regular people to turn them into supes.¡±


    ¡°How the fuck did The Ghost get his hands on something like that?¡± Daniel asked, slurring his words. ¡°Thought those things were supposed to be secure.¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°Less secure than they say.¡±


    ¡°But doesn¡¯t that mean you have a deadline? One day you drop dead?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I have no idea how long I got. You¡¯re the superhero. Aren¡¯t they supposed to keep you in the loop about these things?¡±


    It was Daniel¡¯s to burst out laughing. It took him a few minutes to calm down. I waited with a half-grin on my face, not quite sure what set him off. He looked me and shook his head, taking another shot. ¡°I never got it from a street perspective. What do you think we superheroes do?¡±


    ¡°Fight crime. Be famous. Have awesome sex.¡±


    Daniel giggled and threw his head back with another shot. ¡°Well, you¡¯re right about two of those things. But we¡¯re not free. We¡¯re glorified errand boys in spandex. Day after day, being told what to do where and when, occasionally who to kill. And then we¡¯re paraded out in front of our donors who treat us as entertainment.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t be too bad. You aren¡¯t starving.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what they all say,¡± Daniel muttered under his breath. ¡°That¡¯s what they all fucking say,¡± he said, not without a little hate in his voice.


    I think the whiskey was finally getting to him. He was really slurring words. I envied him for that as I downed my fourteenth bottle of ethanol. I wonder how people lived like this, feeling absolutely nothing all the time. There were natural class fives out there, and if they weren¡¯t braindead in a lab, they would¡¯ve felt this since childhood.


    It was like all my experiences suddenly constricted to how I felt at room temperature. The world lost so much color and texture that I never appreciated before. I felt the wind, yes, but it could never chill or warm me up. I could eat, but I could never feel full. I suppose I could still feel pain, but nothing more than tiny annoying pinpricks on my skin.


    I¡¯m not a religious man by any means, but I had what you might call an epiphany of sorts. People weren¡¯t made to be comfortable like this¡ªor at least they shouldn¡¯t be. Take it from someone who has seen the other side, living a room temperature life is exactly as awful as it sounds.


    Or to put it another way, from what I heard from a junkie, shooting up for the first time feels amazing. But each time you get high, you get used to it. You burn out. You lose the ability to feel anything except the next high. The scale gets so out of whack that everything else feels like room temperature. Maybe even worse. The whole world turns grey. But I suppose an addiction might just be a roundabout mercy. You¡¯re still allowed to feel something, even if it¡¯s only pain.


    And here I was, an addict without an addiction. I think suffering just might be a blessing in disguise. It reminds you what you¡¯ve given up¡­ and what you¡¯ve lost.


    I was stewing in my thoughts for a while until Daniel slammed his fist on the counter. The old me would¡¯ve jumped out of my seat. Instead, it only caught my eye.


    ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡± Daniel yelled. ¡°It¡¯s stupid! All of it¡¯s stupid!¡± He was keeping his words surprisingly straight for how much he had drank.


    ¡°What is?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Walter. The ASA. All of it. This is sick! Why is the world like this!¡± Daniel stumbled up from his barstool and threw it at a cracked mirror on the other side of the counter. It shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor.


    He flattened himself on the counter. ¡°All the lies! All the bullshit! Why did I have to go along with it!? Why did it have to be me!?¡± He banged his fist against the wood.


    I wasn¡¯t sure what to do. I sat there, watching concerned. I knew we weren¡¯t exactly friends, but I didn¡¯t have anyone else, and he didn¡¯t have anyone else. We were both stuck in the same boat.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Daniel turned to me. His eyes were red with tears. ¡°Do you know what I would do for a second chance? Why is that so much to ask? Why is that so much?¡± He broke down.


    I got up and gently put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Hey man, you got out. You¡¯re free. We¡¯re free, the both of us.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± He shook his head. ¡°They made me just like them. They took thirteen damn years from my life! I lied for them! I lied for them!¡± He repeated with growing horror. His voice lowered and trembled. ¡°I killed for them. Why can¡¯t I take it back? Why?¡±


    I didn¡¯t know how to answer that question. Really I didn¡¯t. What was I supposed to say to him? That it¡¯s all going to be okay in the end? You know, my parents used to tell me that bullshit, right up until it wasn¡¯t. And you know, there are some things you don¡¯t bounce back from. There are some things that don¡¯t stop hurting, no matter how much they preach to you about healing.


    But Daniel had a different sort of pain, something I was only beginning to grasp.


    All my life I wanted to be at the top. I wanted to be the one who had girls hanging off his arm. I wanted to be the one who had a pool in the penthouse. I wanted to go to bed every night drunk off my ass.


    But what people can¡¯t seem to wrap their minds around is that you don¡¯t get drunk off your ass every night if you¡¯re actually happy. I still didn¡¯t quite understand Daniel, but I think I was starting to.


    We¡¯d both been cheated out of our lives one way or another. And given what I could do now, I swore in that run-down, dirty bar that someone was going to pay.


    ¡­


    Daniel passed out a short time later, and I tucked him away on the second floor with some blankets I could scrounge up. Given that I still didn¡¯t feel woozy in the slightest, I took to wandering the empty halls of the abandoned shopping center.


    You don¡¯t really see people scavenging the really old ruins anymore. Everything has been picked clean a dozen times over. And if there isn¡¯t radioactive dust in the buildings, there¡¯s probably some dangerous chemicals or toxic gas or what have you. Back in my scrounging days, I stuck to whatever I could get from fast-food dumps and the rat meat they bartered in the encampments.


    Surrounding me were dark halls lined with stores. It would¡¯ve been pitch black had I not been able to see in pitch black. Apparently people holed up here at one time, probably shortly after the bombs fell. Inside shuttered stores, I could see remnants of tents and sleeping bags and surprisingly enough a few campfires. Campfires¡ªin an enclosed space, with questionable air circulation, I guess people were stupid even back then.


    I even saw a few skeletons, tattered cloth hanging off their picked-clean bones. No idea what killed them though, probably other people. I heard most deaths weren¡¯t even from the bombs. Once everyone realized the world was ending, they finally snapped. The only tragedy in all of it was that the world didn¡¯t end, and we had to live in the mess that came after.


    Occasionally, a few rays of sunlight poked in from the roof. They were like little spotlights in a mausoleum to the past. I wandered by faded signs and advertisements for products that hadn¡¯t existed for decades if not a century. There were portions of the mall that had collapsed in on itself. The whole building was rotting. I kicked some rocky debris and sent it flying into the thirty-foot ceiling over me.


    Yeah, it was a damn tragedy that there¡¯s no such thing as a clean slate.


    I played in the food court for a while, throwing chairs and tables around. I know I said everything felt like room temperature, but this still got a thrill out of me. I found one of those dinosaur rides that swing back and forth; the ones you apparently you used to slot a quarter in, and it would swing like all heck.


    I wouldn¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never seen a working one in my entire life.


    It was a pitiful thing. The dinosaur was all cartoonish and the like with a huge grin across its bent face. It had probably been a character from a tv series or video game. I hopped in and tried to make it swing by pushing off the floor with my leg. The rusted hydraulics snapped in half and I fell to the floor face-first.


    Dusting myself off, I continued wandering for a few more hours, picking my way through the wreckage of the old world.


    You know, I¡¯ve never been to a cemetery before. Seen a lot of mass graves though¡ªburied a few people in them. This place felt exactly like that. You just couldn¡¯t put it in the ground fast enough, to make the memories go away. But the funny thing is, what hurt the most wasn¡¯t that the before times were better. It was what the people might think of you now. I¡¯ve always been a man of low self-esteem, and if weren¡¯t for my parents, I would¡¯ve felt right at home dumpster diving with the rest.


    But that didn¡¯t feel right either. Even as I stood in this garbage heap of a mall, I felt that that I should stand with my back fucking stood straight. It wasn¡¯t to live up to legacy or any of that shit. It was to prove these ghosts all wrong. Yeah, here you stood, and here I am¡ªbetter than all of you. And you better remember it.


    As the hours passed by, I noticed that the sun was getting low. Wanting to see the sunset, I flew up to the ceiling and punched through. I flew around, searching for a good perch on the roof. Now, I know people didn¡¯t exactly design these things for sitting on, but finding a nice ledge was surprisingly difficult. The whole mall was this twisted curvy thing that seemed to be made for no other purpose than to be an eyesore.


    As I was looking around, I sensed Daniel nearby. He had already found the perfect spot, where two steel beams converged into a concave surface that made a nice improvised bench. I landed and sat down next to him.


    I couldn¡¯t help but notice that he still had a bottle with him, but he seemed to have sobered up a little, and he wasn¡¯t shooting down like he was before. It was a good location to watch the sunset too. It was one of those afternoon skies when you look and realize you¡¯re living in a painting, and you have been your entire life. You just didn¡¯t realize it until now.


    The sun was setting over the ruined City 57, casting crimson hues over wispy clouds as far as the eye could see.


    I still didn¡¯t know what I wanted, but I knew enjoying the sunset with someone was part of that. I looked over to Daniel.


    ¡°You all right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m better,¡± Daniel muttered. ¡°Sorry about that. The drink got it out of me.¡±


    ¡°It does do that to people.¡±


    ¡°The thing is, I¡¯m deep in the shit, and I don¡¯t even know what to do anymore. There¡¯s people I still care about back there. And there¡¯s someone I still haven¡¯t said goodbye to.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not holding you back. Do whatever you want.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more complicated than that. I don¡¯t know what I would say to him. He stood up for me. He did a lot of things he didn¡¯t have to, all because he wanted to keep me out of Gen Pop. And I threw all his hard work away.¡±


    That did make me a tad more guilty for threatening to kill his friends. But to be fair, they were the ones who picked the fight with me.


    Daniel seemed to realize the implications of what he was saying, and he turned to me. ¡°Would you kill me if I said I regretted leaving?¡±


    It didn¡¯t occur to me that he might be afraid of me suddenly turning on him. The thought honestly hadn¡¯t crossed my mind.


    That¡¯s right. I can kill anyone whenever I please. I could reach out and snap a neck without a second thought.


    That disturbed me probably even more than it did him. I know I killed that interrogator, and I knew I could take on anyone I wanted. I just hadn¡¯t really considered it from the other guy¡¯s perspective. How can you ever truly relax around someone who could murder you on a dime? I don¡¯t think anyone really could.


    I sighed. It was just one more thing separating me from everyone else. If I ever did try to seek out a new life, I knew I couldn¡¯t ever show my powers again. It would eventually break every friendship one way or another.


    I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make a difference to me. I¡¯m just along for wherever this ride takes me.¡±


    Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. That was definitely eating at him, but I knew he could never really be at ease.


    ¡°What are you thinking?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I have to say goodbye. And then I don¡¯t know.¡±


    I was never the type to boss others around, even if I would miss the company. ¡°Whether you want to stick with me or not, that¡¯s on you. All I can say is that it¡¯s been nice having someone to talk to.¡±


    ¡°Nah, I think I¡¯ll stick around.¡± Daniel sucked in a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m just figuring how I want to go out. I don¡¯t want to be on the run forever.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it. That¡¯s how I got by, and just look at me now.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could. I really do.¡± Daniel stood up and stretched his arms. ¡°I¡¯ll be back later tonight. Or not. Depends if they catch me.¡±


    ¡°You need any backup?¡±


    ¡°It would be better if I try to sneak in. But if I don¡¯t come back, you can go ahead and wreck their shit.¡±


    I nodded.


    Daniel suddenly paused with a look of surprise on his face. I looked at him quizzically.


    ¡°It¡¯s quiet,¡± he said. ¡°I can¡¯t hear anything. Nothing at all. I can¡¯t remember the last time it was like this.¡±


    I cracked a smile. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s pretty nice, isn¡¯t it? That¡¯s what freedom is.¡±


    He grinned as well. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Daniel disappeared a moment later. I couldn¡¯t see him, but I could sense him quickly hopping from building to building across the city. About a mile or so out, I couldn¡¯t track him anymore. I was left alone watching the sunset, and it was gorgeous.


    A sharp pain suddenly erupted in my head. I grunted and pressed my hands against my temples. The sensation passed quickly enough, but I knew the headache was lurking somewhere. It had been bothering me for a while now, going on and off all day. But it had never gotten this bad. I rubbed my face and relaxed. It was probably from all the ethanol I had been drinking. Not exactly the brightest idea, I know. I felt a dripping sensation, and I held my hand to my nose. Confused, I looked down at my palm.


    In the center was a single splotch of blood.

 Chapter Thirteen

    Daniel Peterson


    I waited until nightfall. It wasn¡¯t hard to find my way back to the Defenders¡¯ Tower. In fact, I had memorized extensive routes throughout City 57. Most of them I had learned from sneaking out at night to raid for alcohol. But a few of them were for my popular penchant of jumping off buildings. Before I re-entered civilization again, I threw myself off a few skyscrapers for old times¡¯ sake.


    I tell you, it never ever gets old. There¡¯s nothing like that rush. The wind pressing right up against you, it¡¯s fantastic. It¡¯s like speeding down a road in a car, except you don¡¯t have a car, and you¡¯ve got nothing to hold you back. Though this time did feel different. Before, I felt like I was trying to break free, and maybe that was still true. But now I just felt lost and hopeless.


    I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯ve seriously considered letting myself hit the pavement before. A lot of times, actually. However, now it felt like the pavement was going to hit me no matter what I did. The ground was rushing up faster and faster. I would go splat, and that would be the end of me. Everything I dreamed of would fly from my fingers, leaving me alone, just another broken corpse in this city of corpses.


    I opened my eyes, and I was fine. I was standing without a scratch on me in a deserted, ruined street. And yet, I still felt like I was falling anyway.


    Teleporting through the buildings once more, I tried not to think about it. It was hard as I passed through the decay of City 57. There¡¯s nothing for the eyes except more scenes of utter filth and crumbling ruin. Even when I reached the populated parts of the city, it was hardly any better. I stuck to rooftops and high floors, getting snapshots of a dark city smoldering with the soft lights of the slums.


    Occasionally, I stopped just to look at it all. Every single day¡ªback when I was a superhero¡ªwas filled with constant noise of building back better initiatives and new programs to help the poor. But here we were, nearly thirty years after the bombs fell, not much better off than when literal nukes were falling from the sky.


    As someone who once stood on the top of the food chain of this broken world, I couldn¡¯t help but think the problem wasn¡¯t feeding the poor or building new houses (which fell down again in a few years anyway). Problem was that we didn¡¯t believe in anything anymore. I mean, you look at old footage of Captain Eagle, and something just stirs in your soul. He talked about a future, something to look forward to, something to build not just for yourself but for your kids and grandkids too.


    Something that would last.


    I suppose that¡¯s why they dropped a nuke on him. Kicked off a whole damn pointless war. Anything was worth it, so long as that dream was crushed in the dirt.


    I teleported again. I had little difficulty traversing the city. Not so much as a single person noticed my presence, after all, I didn¡¯t want them to. Pretty soon, I was in a building adjacent to the Defenders¡¯ Tower.


    The compound was just like most of the other buildings of this city¡ªanother ugly eyesore that no one wanted. It was twisted into this half-spiral half-rectangle that made it look more like a waste of money than anything else. Usually the place would be swarming with security drones, but I suppose Adam Mason took care of that problem.


    The tower was mostly dark tonight, with only a few lights on at the penthouse suite. Somewhere behind those tinted windows was Walter and the team¡ªif they weren¡¯t out at another event anyway. If there was one thing that made me glad, it was that I didn¡¯t have to deal with Walter¡¯s tantrums anymore. I snickered to myself, imagining his reaction when he figured out what happened. Hell, he probably had some poor secretary begging for another nuke. Wish I could¡¯ve been a fly on that wall. Would¡¯ve paid good money to see a recording of him blowing it.


    But I also felt more than a little guilty. I probably doomed the Urban Defenders with my stunt. I was a walking talking PR Rep¡¯s worst nightmare. A Supe going rogue was the biggest no no in the entire world. It was the nightmare of every country¡¯s leader. The image of Ultra-man or whatever casually assassinating the government made every normal piss their pants. It was why abnormals were cracked down upon so hard.


    Walter wouldn¡¯t just look incompetent¡ªfull-blown criminal investigations would be done. Inquiries would be conducted. He could wind up in prison. And for the team? Well, Gen Pop was a possibility, but they could also be recycled for other superhero teams. I hoped for the second option.


    Either way, I had no stomach to go in and try to see them. They would hate me even though I saved their lives. My heart fell in my chest as I realized that Sarah would probably hate me too. If she got thrown back in Gen Pop, that meant she would be separated from her mother again. Yes, I stopped Adam Mason from tearing us limb from limb, but I also betrayed them.


    So this was what being the adult in the room got you. I didn¡¯t think it would hurt this much. And despite that, I didn¡¯t really blame Mason for any of it. He was caught in this mess as any of us.


    No, I blamed the man who ordered us to what would¡¯ve been our deaths.


    As much as I dearly wanted to pay Walter a friendly visit, that was too much of a risk. I would have to search the compound, and he certainly would have protection with him. Besides, I didn¡¯t want to get entangled in any fighting tonight. Maybe my chance to hash it out with him would come, but it was not tonight.


    I was here for someone else anyway. Also living in the Defenders¡¯ Tower were all the personnel who worked for StarCorp in City 57. You had everyone from secretaries to personal chefs to intelligence analysts to security guards. The list went on and on. You also had a dozen or so fake jobs that went to high priorities as an excuse to give them money. That part didn¡¯t really sting me like it used to. The biggest grifters were the ones in the penthouse suite¡ªwhere I used to be.


    I lowered my gaze down to the lower floors. Of everyone who lived and worked in the Defenders¡¯ Tower, you also had chaperones.


    I knew exactly where Jayne¡¯s quarters were. The lights were off, but I didn¡¯t know what that meant. Did they punish him for my behavior? Did they drag him off to an interrogator? Was he kicked to the curb? I hope not. I didn¡¯t know what I would do if he had been hurt because of me.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Teleporting over to his darkened room, it hurt to be in here, knowing this was probably my last time in this room. It was a rather nice apartment. Single bedroom, single kitchen, a nice living room with all the amenities. It was about as good as someone in City 57 could ask for. Jayne and I spent long nights hanging out. He was the one relationship I was allowed to have that felt normal. And I didn¡¯t have to break Walter¡¯s rules either to do it.


    I reached for the lamp and switched on some light. I would wait here as long as it would take¡ªor until I got caught.


    ¡°Long time no see.¡±


    My heart skipped a beat as I nearly jumped out of my skin. Turning around, I saw Jayne sitting in a recliner. He wore his regular blazer, but his white-collared shirt had the top three buttons undone. He looked ragged, more than he usually did. His hair was messy and his clothes rumpled. Worse, his patented fedora was gone.


    ¡°How¡¯s life on the outside?¡±


    I saw a bottle of scotch by him. He had been drinking here in the dark. I couldn¡¯t tell how much, but he definitely had more than normal.


    ¡°It¡¯s been¡­ interesting,¡± I quietly said, unsure of what to say to him.


    I was hoping for some more prep time. Suddenly, I was wishing I spent more time on the rooftop to steel myself. You have to understand. I couldn¡¯t let this end badly, not like how I screwed up everything else in my life.


    Was he going to be angry? Was he going to hate me too? If I explained to him, would he understand? Or would that just make it worse? There were few things that scared me in the world, that really scared me. The very top of that list was seeing Jayne hate me like all the others. I didn¡¯t look at his expression. I wasn¡¯t ready. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him measuredly stand up and walk over to me.


    I tensed. That was all I could do after all the verbal lashings from Walter. It was damn muscle memory at this point. I told myself again and again that I didn¡¯t care, but it still wears down on you. Day in and day out, always being a failure, even though you never signed up for any of this. Being judged by standards that weren¡¯t your own, humiliated and ridiculed for never measuring up to a lie. It made me want to vomit. It was like every bad memory surfaced back, only to taunt me again and¡ª


    Jayne suddenly embraced me, and he sobbed.


    ¡°I was worried for you, boy.¡±


    I slowly relaxed. I didn¡¯t quite know what to say. Jayne and I were close, but I had never seen him open quite like that before.


    ¡°Yeah, I was pretty worried too.¡±


    ¡­


    Jayne hadn¡¯t been fired or blamed, at least not yet. Walter had been busy dealing with the internal chaos as his team came back with their tails between their legs. Already several B-Rank heroes were en route and would be here by the morning. The plan was to lie low and hope for another chance at Mason. Meanwhile, they were doing their best to hush matters about me switching sides. No one knew about my betrayal except for the team, Walter, and a few key personnel. The current story was that I went MIA during the fight with Mason, suspected of being taken hostage.


    Jayne knew better, though. He always knew better.


    I supposed that wasn¡¯t the worst shitstorm that could¡¯ve happened. Still, the Urban Defenders were on the chopping block as I feared. The public, or the part of the public that still gobbled up super hero drama, were furious that the Urban Defenders had been beaten. They demanded new gladiators for their bloodsport, and if Walter couldn¡¯t give it to them, then it was time to replace the man whose sole job was to entertain them.


    As for the team, Jayne hadn¡¯t talked to any of them. I wished he had gotten a chance to discuss with Sarah, but that was not meant to be. I don¡¯t know what I was hoping. A message to be passed along? I thought about asking Jayne to reach out to her, but that would put him at further risk. If me and Sarah were to meet again, it would probably have to be when the Urban Defenders were finally sent to take me in.


    ¡°So what are you going to do?¡± I asked, still concerned about what might happen to him. We sat in two chairs opposite of each other.


    I knew Jayne was an old man. He wouldn¡¯t survive trying to make a living out on the streets. And the worst part was that there was nothing I could do for him, not without putting a huge target on him. Right now, I might be publicly MIA, but there was no telling when that would turn into ¡°wanted fugitive¡±. And that¡¯s ignoring who Walter would secretly set on my trail.


    ¡°Lay low, probably try to transfer out of the city. Don¡¯t worry about me. I know how to take care of myself. What are you going to do? You¡¯re with that Adam Mason guy, right? Do you have a plan?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m sorry. Walter didn¡¯t give me a choice. He was going to order us to our deaths! I didn¡¯t mean any of it! I just did what I could to save¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± Jayne cut me off with a reassuring voice. I just stared at him with a broken expression on my face. That was the thing I loved most about the man. Unlike to so many people in my life, I never once had to justify myself to Jayne.


    ¡°But you need to start thinking carefully,¡± he said. ¡°You need to get out of City 57 and fast. Go southwest. It¡¯s dangerous outside the cities, but it will also be harder to track you. With your power, you could probably cover several hundred miles a day. Head for the Mexican States and keep running until you reach Panama. The city hates the Democratic Union. They won¡¯t try to extradite you, and they¡¯re more lax about people with super powers. Not great, but it¡¯s the best option you have.¡±


    I had no idea Jayne was so knowledgeable about the world. It was certainly a side he had never hinted at before. ¡°But won¡¯t I have to cross cartel territory?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Jayne admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s still your best bet. Don¡¯t try for a boat. The Democratic Union has its hands in most of the smuggling operations, and that¡¯s how they catch so many runaways. Besides, it¡¯ll only restrict your powers. You need to stay mobile and land-based. Stay off the roads as much as you can. If government convoys aren¡¯t passing through, then it¡¯s the bandits.¡±


    ¡°But if I go to Panama¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Jayne nodded, already knowing what I was going to say.


    I would never see him again, or anyone, for that matter. Running to Panama met severing ties and starting over. No, it wouldn¡¯t just be starting over. It would mean losing everything I still cared about. Maybe that was just Jayne and Sarah, but that was still too hard an ask. Tears welled up in my eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can do that.¡±


    ¡°You have to,¡± Jayne insisted. ¡°They¡¯ll get you. They always do. If not the ASA, then StarCorp.¡±


    ¡°Well, maybe this time I¡¯ve got someone who can fight back. I talked with Mason. He hates the ASA as much as anyone. Maybe, maybe I can stand my ground. If I just¡ª¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand!¡± Jayne pleaded. ¡°Mason is going to drop dead any day now! You have to run while he¡¯s still kicking! He¡¯s your only distraction.¡±


    I looked at Jayne in shock. So, he figured out about the enzyme. And worse, that clock was a lot shorter than we thought.


    I glanced over to the window, knowing Mason was out there somewhere in the city, not realizing he was a dead man walking.


    ¡°I have to go tell him,¡± I said, horrified. ¡°He doesn¡¯t know¡­¡±


    ¡°Do that,¡± Jayne agreed. ¡°And then, I beg you, run.¡±


    I looked back to Jayne, and I think he knew exactly why I just couldn¡¯t. In fact, I told him so before on several occasions. If I ever ran away, I was terrified I wouldn¡¯t ever stop. I didn¡¯t want to lead that kind of life. I wasn¡¯t ready to, and I don¡¯t think I ever would be. I knew I did not want to spend my remaining days on this planet looking over my shoulder. If I was going to die, I would much rather go out spitting in the ASA¡¯s face than wallowing in some bombed-out shelter.


    ¡°I can¡¯t protect you.¡± Jayne spoke with a broken voice. I had never seen such guilt on his face before. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ but I can¡¯t protect you from this, not while the ASA is hunting you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± I told him. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Jayne wiped away his tears. ¡°If you¡¯re going to stay, whatever you do, keep your head down.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± I promised. And even though I really meant it, for some reason, it felt like a lie anyway.

 Chapter Fourteen

    Seattle Vance


    I never was one for slow days. There were still further preparations to be made, acquiring the right uniforms, conducting surveillance checks on our route plan, and outfitting the gear. None of which was particularly exciting, but it was necessary to ensure the heist went off without a hitch. For our supplies, we had the very helpful assistance of the Index, which never failed to impress. As for scouting out potential unforeseen problems, I had Joshua running hacked drones over the location. So far, everything looked sunny.


    During all of this, Raven surprisingly reached out and invited me to the firing range. Yes, apparently the Index did have an underground range, though it was little more than an abandoned subway tunnel with some electric lighting strung up. The targets were scavenged sheet metal with paint for the bullseye. They did rig this handy cart along the subway tracks to change the distance of the targets. It was a neat system with a remote programmed to send it back and forward.


    As I walked down the steps of the tunnel, I expected to see the same professional Raven I saw in the meeting room. Instead, I found her grinning as she practiced with an M4. She was a good shot too, not perfect, but I bet she could put a few rounds in a 400 yard target easy.


    She saw me approaching out of the corner of her eye and put the M4 down on a nearby fold-up table.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I shot an M4,¡± I said.


    Usually, rifles were too big and cumbersome to be useful in the cities. If a drone spotted you with one, you would have CitySec on you in minutes. I mostly had to stick to small arms for my work. Outside the cities, however, it was all fair game. Everything was on the table out there, up to and often including, armored vehicles.


    ¡°It¡¯s a favorite of mine. It¡¯s one of the last true ties to old America. Even more than a half century later, we¡¯re still using the same basic design.¡± Raven said, taking an empty magazine and loading rounds with her thumb. ¡°True, we can¡¯t make anything better anymore, but I think there¡¯s some charm in it.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for an aficionado for history.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not. But my grandfather served in the old country. I was told it had been a proud family tradition before the collapse¡ªbefore bombs fell. Holding the M4 feels like I¡¯m continuing something, even if it¡¯s just a gun.¡±


    ¡°My parents used to be old America nuts. I remember our little apartment was stuffed with flags and coins and everything you could think of.¡± I walked over to the range and picked up an M4, feeling its weight in my hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know when the realization hit. I think it was when I was eight. It was right after I got my superpowers. I recall I was sitting in the living room while my mother was trying to put up an old American flag. I think it was in the memory of some holiday about independence or whatnot. Anyway, she was putting it up, and the cloth ripped nearly in two. And she was left standing there on the stool with nothing but the ripped flag in her hands. I realized at the moment that it was all a sad pantomime. I wish my parents moved on, instead of wasting their lives believing in something that everyone was embarrassed by.¡±


    ¡°You think people should just forget the past?¡±


    ¡°Forget it. Bury it. Kill it. It doesn¡¯t really make a difference to me.¡± I took a full magazine and loaded it into the M4. ¡°What matters is living in the here and now. It astounds me that people born after the bombs can have nostalgia for something they never had. And one way or another, it always ends up killing them.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re wrong, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯re right either.¡± Raven crossed her arms. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem right that after all the Democratic Union has taken from us, that they get our past too.¡±


    ¡°They can take whatever they like because they¡¯re in charge.¡± I pulled the charging handle and aimed down range. I fired three shots in quick succession. Sparks flew off the target, and looking up, I saw all three had hit dead center.


    I grinned to myself. It seemed like my skills hadn¡¯t completely rusted away. Setting the M4 down, I turned to Raven. ¡°I assume you invited me here to discuss more than old America.¡±


    She eyed me with a serious expression. ¡°You¡¯re right. You know, Mr. Greene passed us your record? Saw some nasty stuff on there. I just wanna to know what kind of man I¡¯m storming the ASA with.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, I crossed my arms. ¡°You wanna be more specific? There¡¯s a lot of stuff on there after all.¡±


    ¡°Knight Squads? Kidnapping kids for the ASA?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Ah, so you¡¯re a sentimentalist. I know you¡¯ve killed people, Raven. Probably in some nasty ways with your power. But you¡¯re going to draw a magic line at some dirty work for the ASA?¡± I let that sink in for a moment. ¡°Besides, the one thing the ASA gets right is that abnormals are dangerous. Their methods might be awful, but that¡¯s a small price to pay when little Jimmy can accidentally disembowel his parents with laser eyes. That¡¯s the other side of this equation. The awful world we traded for this awful world.¡±


    ¡°If you believe that, why don¡¯t you turn yourself in then?¡±


    I threw up my hands. ¡°Because Gen Pop sucks.¡± I joked.


    I was fucking with her, of course. I don¡¯t like moral busybodies, especially if they run with people like the Index. If Raven was going to interrogate me, then I might as well have some fun with it. If she wanted to judge me, well, I was going to be the worst possible fucking person in the room. It wasn¡¯t like she was going to walk out of here thinking I was a saint either way.


    ¡°Are you having second thoughts on this mission?¡± I asked. ¡°Does it bother you that I¡¯m a bad person? Someone with your power, I find it difficult to think you haven¡¯t worked for worse.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Raven turned to me and gave a sad smile. ¡°You know, that¡¯s what they always ask. Even if they don¡¯t say it out loud, the question is always in their eyes. I¡¯m not like the other abnormals. I was one of the unlucky ones, born with an ¡®evil¡¯ power. And so I¡¯m tainted. They think I enjoy what I can do.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡± I asked, knowingly.


    She looked at me straight in the eye. ¡°What¡¯s the difference between having a super power and carrying a loaded weapon? It¡¯s funny. People generally don¡¯t think you enjoy killing people just because you have a pistol on your belt.¡±


    ¡°You would think so, but if the world worked like that, abnormals wouldn¡¯t be despised like they are.¡±


    ¡°What are you trying to imply?¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders innocently. ¡°Only that when it comes to life and death, you can¡¯t wait to find out if the person carrying is a good guy or a bad guy. All you can do is reach for the bigger gun.¡±


    Raven furrowed her brows, trying to parse what I said. Yeah, let her chew on that one.


    ¡°Listen,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m a busy man, and I¡¯ve got places to be. If you want to level any moral accusations at me, be my guest. But personally, I don¡¯t give a damn so long as you do the job I hired you to do. So tell me now, do you have a specific problem working with me, or am I right that you¡¯ve worked for worse?¡±


    A look of guilt crossed her face. I knew she was beaten then. Raven shook her head. ¡°No, no problem.¡± She lifted the M4 back up and aimed down range.


    ¡°It was good talking to you, Raven.¡± I said.


    She fired and nailed the target between the eyes. It left a smoking hole where the brains should be.


    I waved my hand and turned towards the exit. I had a feeling Raven preferred to be alone, and I didn¡¯t want to stay. However, I paused just as I was about to leave. I turned to her once again.


    ¡°Out of curiosity, what¡¯s the worst thing you¡¯ve ever done?¡±


    Her eye glanced at me. ¡°Why do you want to know?¡±


    I grinned softly at her. ¡°I want to know what kind of person you are.¡±


    She turned her gaze back down the range. ¡°I was careless, and someone close to me got caught.¡± She fired again.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said after a second. ¡°That¡¯s mine too.¡±


    ¡°Seattle?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    She took the magazine out and reloaded. ¡°You¡¯re one of the best damn liars I¡¯ve ever met. But I think that was finally the one honest thing you¡¯ve said.¡±


    I cracked a smile. ¡°Got me there.¡±


    ¡­


    It was noon as I was strolling through City 57¡ªinvisible of course. I wasn¡¯t an idiot. But I did want to stretch my legs. It seemed I was spending all my time in cramped apartments or secret hideouts, and I wanted to explore the city itself.


    I¡¯ve been to quite a few places in the Democratic Union, mostly sticking to coastal areas. My hometown was City 33, formerly known as Atlanta. It¡¯s strange, all the older people speak with that classic southern drawl, but none of the young ones do. There were still regional accents and such, but nothing like what I saw watching old American tv shows and movies. Take for example, the word ¡°oil¡±. The old people pronounced it as ¡°ole¡± whereas everyone below twenty pronounces it as ¡°eeyol¡±.


    Funny way of speaking, I know. But it was what it was. And when all the old people were gone, that¡¯s the way that word will be from that point forward. People spoke one way for decades and now there¡¯s a new way of speaking. And that way of speaking will be replaced by another way of speaking. It¡¯s sometimes subtle, but the ways of the world change.


    Maybe that was the only hope for our species. In some distant, far-off future, people will change, and they¡¯ll change in a way that matters. Listen, I¡¯m not a betting man¡ªnot when sober anyway. But it strikes me that if the world can tear itself down, that meant it was built at one point. And who¡¯s to say it can¡¯t be built again?


    In a roundabout way, you can mark that down as my actual thoughts on the problem of abnormals. Though I wasn¡¯t completely lying when I told Raven such and such.


    My phone quietly buzzed in my pocket, and I turned a corner into a deserted alleyway. Finding a nice secluded spot between some smelly trash and a brick wall, I flicked open my phone and saw it was a call from Mr. Greene¡¯s number. Answering it, I put the phone to my ear.


    ¡°Mr. Greene! I didn¡¯t think we would be talking again.¡±


    ¡°Neither did I, Mr. Vance,¡± his voice responded coolly. ¡°But a¡­ situation has come up. One that requires your expertise.¡±


    I furrowed my brow. ¡°You¡¯re offering me a job? I think you should know I already have my hands full. Besides, don¡¯t you have a full clientele who can do it for you?¡±


    ¡°This is a rather delicate matter. Extraordinarily delicate, in fact. This job cannot be tied back to the Index in any way. That limits my options, and as a matter of coincidence, it relates to your own operation. Consider it a bonus, if you will.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°Daniel Peterson¡ªthe superhero once known as Nighthawk¡ªhas gone rogue.¡±


    ¡°Oh shit.¡± I laughed, amused. I recalled the young boy in the back of the armored truck. He wasn¡¯t a bad one by any means. I actually rather liked him, from the little I ascertained from our encounter. It didn¡¯t surprise me that he would pop off, but the last thing I expected was that it would be now.


    ¡°Yes, he has sided with Adam Mason. Whatever plans you have for the man likely involve him as well. I would rather that they didn¡¯t, but we¡¯ve crossed the threshold of no return now.¡±


    ¡°So what would you have me do? Nab him for the Index? I still don¡¯t see why this needs me.¡±


    ¡°Superheroes going rogue are a very dangerous matter for the Democratic Union. They can¡¯t be handled publicly. There are going to be eyes on Peterson. Eyes I can¡¯t afford tracing it back to us.¡±


    ¡°So you can¡¯t do the job because if any of it runs back to you¡ª¡±


    ¡°It puts the Index of City 57 at risk. I¡¯m breaking several major rules by even having this conversation with you. However, Daniel Peterson is a class three with a very useful power. I can¡¯t pass him up.¡±


    ¡°But you can¡¯t just take him. They¡¯re going to hunt Peterson down until he¡¯s dead. If he disappears, they¡¯re going to turn over every stone in the city until they find who¡¯s responsible.¡±


    ¡°Precisely. Until him or his dead body is found, there is no hiding in City 57¡ªor the Democratic Union for that matter.¡±


    ¡°Still not sure how this concerns me. I nab him, and it will be no different if you didn¡¯t a hire a middle man.¡±


    ¡°That is why I have hired a class two shape-changer to morph a dead body into a likeness of Peterson. ASA won¡¯t know the difference and neither will anyone else. I want you to catch him and make the switch during your heist of the ASA regional headquarters. He¡¯ll doubtlessly be making an appearance.¡±


    ¡°Catching a teleporter is going to be tricky. Have you offered him to join the Index? His cooperation would make this a lot simpler.¡±


    There was a pause on the phone. ¡°I can¡¯t tell him anything until the Democratic Union thinks he¡¯s dead. I have hundreds of other people I have to take responsibility for. It¡¯s too risky otherwise.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Hard way it is, then. Yeah, I might be able to make it work. No certainty though. And I don¡¯t want any smoke if I fail to nab him.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be a hundred million credits to your name if you do.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Want him that bad, eh?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say you have a blank-check for Peterson. Whatever resources you need, I¡¯ll do my best to provide.¡±


    The phone-call clicked off, and I was left in that secluded alleyway. I pocketed my phone and glanced up at the blue sky, filtering through the steel and stone and trash. I chuckled at all of it.


    ¡°Wish someone wanted me that badly,¡± I muttered to myself as I went invisible again. Nighthawk had a damn powerful guardian angel looking after him. If only the rest of us could be so lucky.

 Chapter Fifteen

    Adam Mason


    For a long time, I knew I wanted to die. Most days, I didn¡¯t know what really kept me from throwing myself into the East River. Maybe it was the little things that kept me from going insane¡ªlike occasionally having a cheeseburger. But no, that wasn¡¯t quite it. I knew I was waiting for something, holding out hope, I guess. I think I was waiting for when things finally got better. I don¡¯t know, maybe I would catch a lucky break or something. But I was also waiting for when the world was going to get better. It had to at some point. Everything can¡¯t get worse and worse forever. Can it?


    Even when I was crawling through the mud, I wanted to see the light at the end of the tunnel. When all the suffering and heartbreak and bitterness finally came to an end, maybe then I would get to see what it was all for. Sure, we lost everything, but it still had to be for something, right? We lost our lives, but someday the world was going to fix itself, right?


    I hoped so.


    But now I knew I wasn¡¯t going to see that world. I thought I was different from those washed-up bodies in the East River. You could say that deep down, I thought I was special. The world was going to make itself clear to me and me alone. And for a time, I believed that lie. I really believed that lie after I got my powers.


    But no, the world doesn¡¯t have to justify itself to anyone. It exists regardless of what you say or think or do about it. The world doesn¡¯t owe you shit. You can whine about that, sure. You can complain and groan and grit your teeth, but that won¡¯t change anything. You are no different from those bodies in the East River and don¡¯t you ever forget that.


    I could feel it now. There was a weakness in my bones that hadn¡¯t been there. There was a vague discomfort in my head, not quite what you would call a headache, but just before the onset of one. Daniel said I was dying, and it was a good thing he did too. The symptoms were just starting, and if he hadn¡¯t told me, I didn¡¯t know how long I would¡¯ve spent in denial. At least this way, I still had some time left.


    I looked up at the sky. The day had started nice, but the evening was getting overcast now. Storm was coming in.


    I had been mulling on the rooftop of an abandoned building for a few hours. It was strange. I spent so much time on rooftops now. I never really looked at the city. I was always peering up at the sky, kind of vaguely accepting the brown and grey landscape existed as well. But now, as I gazed over the dirt and the trash and the ruin, I realized that I was going to die here. I don¡¯t mean necessarily in City 57, but I mean I was going to become a part of all of this. I was going to join this festering world, just another decaying thing amongst all the others. For some reason, that made me sick to my stomach.


    I wanted to be taken and swallowed by the sky. It might¡¯ve been empty up there, but at least it was clean. At least it was free. The thought of my rotting corpse being part of this ugly world made my skin crawl. Maybe before I die, I would throw myself into space. Yeah, that might be the best way to go out. It was quiet up there, and after everything, I just wanted silence.


    Daniel appeared beside me. I could always tell because the air displaced created a slight breeze. Old me wouldn¡¯t have noticed it, but I could sense nearly everything in a several mile radius now.


    ¡°Wanted to check in, see how you¡¯re doing,¡± he said, sitting next to me.


    ¡°Fine enough, I guess,¡± I mumbled. ¡°What are you supposed to do when someone tells you that you¡¯re dying?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t even know where to begin¡­ It seems we both got shit hands.¡± Daniel peered over the city, occasionally glancing my way.


    I picked up a piece of debris and casually tossed it off the side of the building. ¡°I keep wondering whether I should regret it¡ªall of this, I mean. Would it have been better if I never got injected? Would it have been better to keep on living as I was?¡± I threw my head back so I could only see the sky. I didn¡¯t want to look at City 57 anymore. ¡°Maybe I should regret it, but man, these have been the best few days of my life. I can¡¯t decide which was better. What do you think?¡±


    Daniel considered the question. ¡°I don¡¯t think it matters what we think about it. Won¡¯t change anything, anyway. All you can do is spend whatever time you have left¡­ and make the most of it.¡±


    ¡°Hm, you¡¯re right about that.¡± I chuckled. ¡°Still, I can¡¯t help but think it¡¯s all pointless. What does it matter what I do? It will be all the same soon.¡±


    ¡°Nah, I think it matters. A few days aren¡¯t that big a difference to a few years. We all gotta die at some point. Not everyone gets to see and do the things we have. At least there¡¯s that, right?¡± Daniel sounded like he was trying to justify it to himself more than me.


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true. I just wish I could do something lasting, make my life matter. You know, I¡¯ve realized you start thinking strange thoughts right before you die. Do you know what I¡¯ve been wanting for a while now?¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Daniel looked at me. ¡°What?¡±


    I stared up at that grey, overcast sky. ¡°If I could push a button and fix the world, I would. I know things aren¡¯t that easy. But I keep thinking, since I¡¯m a dead man anyway, it doesn¡¯t really matter what price I have to pay. Even if I had to suffer for every wrong thing people have ever done, I would do it in a heartbeat. At least then, my life would mean something.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that is strange. If only people thought like that all the time,¡± Daniel muttered, ¡°maybe the world wouldn¡¯t be so bad.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± I relaxed and rested my back on the concrete. ¡°I just wish I knew what to do.¡±


    Almost in answer to that question, I heard a soft buzzing sound about a mile off. From previous experience, I knew it was a drone immediately. Apparently, I hadn¡¯t done a thorough enough job destroying those in the city. I sat up and looked over towards it. It was just a tiny speck from a normal perspective¡ªif a regular person could see it at all¡ªbut I could focus in on the details. Things didn¡¯t get blurry at a distance. If anything, all I saw was more clarity.


    It seemed to be a custom setup, not one of those city drones. And it wasn¡¯t trying to hide either. It was coming right towards us. Given that it wasn¡¯t much bigger than a small bike, I knew it wasn¡¯t packing any serious firepower. What was most interesting, however, was that there was a cellphone attached to the top. It seemed like someone wanted a chat.


    ¡°Heads up.¡± I elbowed Daniel and pointed to where the drone was coming from. ¡°Looks like we got company. A drone with a cellphone is coming.¡±


    Daniel furrowed his brow in confusion. ¡°Why? The ASA don¡¯t negotiate.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s from the ASA. Listen, you should teleport out of here, but stay close. Find someplace hidden where you can keep tabs on things. They can¡¯t harm me, but they can definitely still get you.¡±


    Daniel nodded and suddenly disappeared. I could detect him in a nearby building, hiding behind some grime-covered windows. I stood up and crossed my arms, waiting for the drone to approach. It was all on its lonesome. Nothing else moved in the sky, at least not related to us.


    A few minutes later, and it was hovering right beside me. The phone was kept in a plastic case anchored with steel bolts to the drone. Suddenly, the phone started buzzing, lighting up with an error message instead of a number. Shrugging my shoulders, I opened the case and answered the call.


    ¡°Adam Mason! It¡¯s been a while!¡± The voice of the Ghost spoke from the other side.


    I can¡¯t say I was altogether surprised. I knew we had some unfinished business, but I was still quite shocked that he found us. He must¡¯ve had good connections.


    ¡°Ghost,¡± I replied curtly. ¡°Last time I saw you, I had a needle full of super serum stabbed into my neck. What do you want now?¡± I knelt down to look into the drone¡¯s camera. I knew someone was watching on the other end.


    ¡°Yeah, you looked like you were having a bad day. Thought you might appreciate a little boost.¡±


    ¡°We all made mistakes. How about we chat about this in person? Catch up on old times?¡± I said, with not a little sarcasm in my voice.


    I heard a burst of laughter on the other side of the phone. ¡°As much as I would like that, I have a feeling you would kill me.¡±


    ¡°I might.¡± I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°Depending on my mood. And I did just receive some very bad news.¡± I placed my hand on the plastic container atop the drone and crushed it with my bare hand.


    ¡°You sore about that? But I do have some good news. I do have a way of extending your deadline, buying you more time if you will. I¡¯m thinking we can help each other out.¡±


    ¡°You want me to attack the ASA?¡± I asked, still recalling our previous conversation. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I stopped being an errand boy when you gave me superpowers. How about I find you and rip it out of your dead corpse?¡±


    ¡°And I said before, we can definitely go down that road. There is not a thing in this world that I could do to stop you. But you are going to have a bitch of a time trying to find me, especially with the B-Ranks who have recently arrived in town. And if those don¡¯t scare you, I¡¯ll give you a tip that others are on your trail too. You don¡¯t have free rein of the city anymore. We can either work together, or you waste time trying to find me and drop dead in the next few days.¡±


    He didn¡¯t say it smugly or mockingly or anything of the sort. He laid it out as it all was without a hint of emotion. And the problem was, I knew he was right. This time the Democratic Union had brought in the big guns. I could probably take them, sure, but I would be wasting valuable time. And I still would have no idea where to look for the Ghost. He could be outside of the city for all I knew.


    ¡°I want proof,¡± I finally said, turning to look at the city. I knew he was far off, but something must have tipped him to my location. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard of any cure. If there was one, people wouldn¡¯t drop dead from the enzyme.¡±


    ¡°Did I say it was a cure?¡± Ghost asked. ¡°No, you¡¯re on the clock, and there¡¯s not a damn thing anyone can do about it.¡±


    Those words hurt a lot more than I expected. ¡°Then what¡ª¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a serum that¡¯ll give your body a boost. Slow down the deterioration. It¡¯ll buy you a few months. And since your body won¡¯t hold out much longer, I think a few months is a very good deal.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know whether he was lying, but I honestly didn¡¯t see any other choice but to trust him. A chance at a few months more of life? Yeah, I¡¯ll take that deal any day.


    ¡°All right, I accept. But if you even think about double-crossing me, remember, I can do this.¡± I walked over to the drone and kicked it with my foot.


    There was a very loud crack as the machine disintegrated apart into a thousand pieces, scattering and hitting a nearby building with the speed of bullets. Glass windows shattered as a thousand miniature puffs of dirt and smoke exploded out of the side of the skyscraper. It was as if someone had shot a cannon full of flak into the building.


    ¡°If I don¡¯t get my hands on that serum, that drone is going to be your skull. Is that clear?¡±


    ¡°Crystal,¡± Ghost responded. He didn¡¯t seem annoyed that I turned his drone into bits of small debris, but I could tell even he jumped a little when he heard the explosion on the other side of the phone.


    ¡°So what¡¯s next?¡±


    ¡°Hole up and wait for tomorrow. I¡¯ll contact you for the when and where. Until then, don¡¯t drop dead.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about me,¡± I told him. ¡°I¡¯m ready to take on this whole city.¡±

 Chapter Sixteen

    Daniel Peterson


    It was a damp, cloudy night as I teleported between the ruined buildings of City 57. Adam had told me everything about his chat with Ghost, otherwise known as Seattle Vance. I¡¯m not going to lie. I was still sore from our encounter in the back of the armored truck. He got one up on me, and I was damned if I was going to let that happen again.


    But there was very little I could do about that. My only way to prepare for tomorrow was to do some snooping on the B-Ranks that recently arrived in the city. At least I could give Adam a heads-up on what he¡¯d be facing. But as I searched for a good spot, my mind wandered back to what exactly Vance¡¯s plan was.


    What was he doing attacking the ASA? I had seen my fair share of terrorists, and he didn¡¯t strike me as anything of the sort. Of course, Walter ran the story because it would make for good publicity. But I knew from first glance that Ghost was an operator, a professional even. Those sorts of men weren¡¯t in the business of stupidity. There was something else going on, but I didn¡¯t know what.


    Don¡¯t get me wrong, I was more than happy at the prospect of fighting back against the ASA, even if it was useless in the grand scheme of things. What I did not like, however, was getting played. And Seattle definitely had his own game going on. Whatever the case, I found a good spot on a nearby rooftop. It was right under a gigantic billboard that was continually broadcasting the announcement of the B-Ranks arriving in City 57. The gigantic visage of Walter seemed to be able to see me, even though I knew it was impossible. Still, I couldn¡¯t help but shudder at his face.


    It was clear why he wanted to make the announcement. He needed to be the face of whatever shitshow this was¡ªcouldn¡¯t be sidelined as easily.


    ¡°Citizens of The Democratic Union! The Alpha Trio has arrived to bring an end to the menace threatening City 57! Rest assured, the villain known as The Vagabond will soon be dealt with. Already his attempt to take over the city has been thwarted, and he is on the run. He and his abnormal supremacist allies will soon be crushed and delivered to justice.¡± He tried to deliver the speech seriously, but it just came off as hammy.


    Vagabond? Abnormal supremacist? I guessed I missed the newest media narrative. So, they had finally gotten around to naming Mason, and not only that, linking him with extremists to boot. Vagabond wasn¡¯t much of a villain''s name, but I guess all the good ones had been used up already. But really, what was the point of all this? Must we continue with this charade? Pretending Adam was trying to take over the city for the sake of abnormals was equally as ridiculous as thinking tunnel mutants were scheming against the Democratic Union.


    The whole thing of abnormal supremacy was a farce. I knew because I was in the damn backdoor rooms where the actual discussions were being had. Most of the people in Gen Pop were class ones and twos¡ªmeaning they couldn¡¯t do any real damage if they wanted to. You had people who could turn the color green being treated the same as Omni-dude who could take a missile to the face. And the abnormals that were that powerful were all swept up by StarCorp, in which case, most wouldn¡¯t give a damn about ¡°rising up¡±.


    The absolute minority, the ones that were both a genuine threat and wanted to overthrow the system, well, the entire system was structured so they couldn¡¯t organize. And powers didn¡¯t emerge in most people until just before puberty, so most of those were children who barely knew any better. Ninety-nine percent of cases were isolated and sniped out of existence before they even had a chance to fight back. It was so effective, the Democratic Union had to lie and spin cases like Mason to justify it all.


    Even after nuclear fire and the collapse of America, the most unstable the country had ever been, there was no abnormal takeover. Mostly because the class fours and fives, the ones with the actual power, by and large didn¡¯t want things to change. They were already at the top. I supposed that was the saddest thing of all. When the nukes fell, we didn¡¯t get to have a new world, just a hollow repeat of the old one.


    I was lost in thought when the broadcast caught my attention again.


    ¡°¡ªand avenge our fallen comrade, Daniel Peterson, a hero to the end. He sacrificed his life for the sake of his team, The Urban Defenders. His loss will not be forgotten.¡±


    Staring at the screen for a long moment, I couldn¡¯t help but burst out laughing. Walter looked like a stick had been shoved up his ass when he got to that part. He couldn¡¯t even vocalize it properly. It came off as if he wanted to spit on my grave, but was forced to say something nice beforehand¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t that far from the truth.


    But why was he saying I was dead? I knew there would be some form of cover up, but now it looked like Walter was covering himself from his superiors. So was this it? Damage control and pray they or the ASA got to me before I made another public appearance? A bad move, but he probably had none left on the board.


    I threw my head back and laughed some more. There was beautiful poetic justice in that. The man who hated me most had to sing my praises to the grave. Maybe the world wasn¡¯t as uncaring as I thought. Maybe bad men were punished after all.


    But as the broadcast turned to The Alpha Trio, my amusement died down. I knew who they were, of course. They were fairly famous B-Rankers. I didn¡¯t even need to look at the news broadcast, which spared no detail on their powers and achievements.


    I knew it all well enough.


    Cosmic Warrior. Class four gravity manipulation. Iron Shield. Class four metal augmentation. Lance Bane. Class five pyromancy. These were the guys who had been my immediate superiors for my entire life. These were the guys I wouldn¡¯t stand a chance fighting.


    While C-Ranks were stationed around the Democratic Union for day-to-day grunt work, B-Ranks operated nationwide. They handled the more serious threats wherever and whenever they appeared. And A-Ranks? A-Ranks went out for foreign publicity. They were the walking talking harbingers of destruction that kept the global order.


    As I looked up at that shiny blue billboard, I suddenly felt overwhelmed. I suppose I got to lord my superiority over the normals and the class ones and twos. But I only got half-lucky. I was the uncomfortable middle child, not quite lesser, yet still unmistakably inferior. What could I ever do against them? I guess I had my brains, but what they don¡¯t tell you is that brains don¡¯t count for everything. Sometimes you are so outclassed it doesn¡¯t matter what you do. And that is a hard pill to swallow.


    But what was even worse was that they got to be my betters in every way. I always had to be the one to measure up to them. Whenever Walter scolded or yelled or lost his shit at us, the B-Ranks were who he was comparing us to. They were the successful ones, the popular ones. Maybe not as popular as the A-Ranks, but still in a league of their own. And we were the ones who got all the shit simply because we weren¡¯t born lucky enough.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    I picked myself up and looked at the overcast sky. I was disappointed I couldn¡¯t see stars. The only light I could see came from the blue billboard and the sickly city.


    All my life, I had waited for a light that would lead me out of this hell. It was a shame I never got a chance to see it.


    But as I looked up into the sky, I noticed completely by accident, a speck flying along the city skyline. I couldn¡¯t see exactly who it was, but I knew it was The Blue Justice¡ªJohn. I knew because I had spent countless hours watching him fly in envy. I knew how he glided through the air, the way he made slow pivots, how he liked gentle curves over moving in a straight line. He often took night shifts, trailing over the city.


    He did it to ¡°fight crime¡± and Walter allowed it because it helped The Urban Defenders¡¯ image. I always thought it was an ego thing, but then again, people sometimes surprise you. John was the last person I wanted to talk to after my sudden separation from The Urban Defenders, but I didn¡¯t know what was going to happen tomorrow. Here was my only chance to talk to someone from the old team.


    It was a bad idea. I knew it, but I also couldn¡¯t resist. I had to know whether they all hated me. At least that way, I could get some closure, and I could say to myself this was all just a long time coming. Even among those who were the closest thing I ever had to friends, I was never really welcome.


    I tailed the Blue Justice along the city, hopping from rooftop to rooftop. It wasn¡¯t hard to keep up. He wasn¡¯t trying to go fast, instead surveying the landscape below him. I kept out of sight, though. Some part of me was still too scared to go up and wave for his attention. Suddenly, I saw John pivot down and fly into the city¡ªinto some dark alleyway. I quickly followed and teleported to an old fire escape. Perching over the situation, it was difficult to see, but I could spot a man and a woman in an altercation. John landed between them and broke it up.


    It was apparently some mugging or whatnot. The thug dropped his knife and tried to run away, but John was faster. Punching him in the gut, the man doubled over while John brought out some zip-ties. The woman disappeared by the time John looked over his shoulder. She didn¡¯t even say so much as a thank you.


    John didn¡¯t seem to care. He was preparing to take the thug to CitySec, and I realized my window of opportunity was drawing to a close. My mouth became very dry. My heart was racing. This was a terrible idea, and if he decided to take me in, I wasn¡¯t sure I was going to be able to get away. But who knows what was going to happen tomorrow, and I needed a proper goodbye.


    I teleported to the other side of the alley. John didn¡¯t have the same dialed up senses as Adam Mason, but even he could spot the dark figure suddenly appearing down the alley. He looked up, completely still for a moment, before standing and taking a few steps toward me.


    I braced myself for what would come next, ready to teleport away if need be. I kept glancing at his watch, knowing that there would be others listening in. John followed my gaze, and he lifted his hand, then looked back at me. It was too far out to read the expression on his face. I couldn¡¯t be too close, otherwise he might catch me before my reflexes had a chance to act. We stood silent for that tense moment, me regretting every second of it. I gritted my teeth. I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I have to be so stupid?


    Why did I ever think John would want to talk to me? We spent our entire time in The Urban Defenders hating each other¡¯s guts. I should¡¯ve left well enough alone! It was ridiculous to think¡ª


    John slowly took off his watch and held it in his hand. I took a step back. I didn¡¯t know what he was doing, but I was a hair-breadth away from taking off and running. If he caught me off guard even by a split second¡ª


    John crushed the watch in his hand. He opened his palm and let the little bits of metal fall to the ground.


    ¡°Daniel,¡± he said evenly from across the alley.


    I gulped. ¡°John.¡±


    He took another step towards me. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we would be seeing each other again.¡±


    I still didn¡¯t trust him. He could¡¯ve just destroyed the watch to make me lower my guard. I wouldn¡¯t put it past him. After all, he knows I could give him a run for his money. What better way to make me think he was on my side?


    ¡°Wanted to check in. See how you guys were doing,¡± I finally said, still wary.


    John crossed his arms. ¡°How do you think?¡±


    I winced at that accusation. I lowered my head. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t exactly leave us in a good spot, you know. Tails between our legs and all that. And I had to be the one to tell Walter that you¡­ left.¡±


    ¡°What was his reaction?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Pissed,¡± John replied exasperated. ¡°What did you think it was going to be?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at that. It was funny. I looked to the ground, trying to figure out what to say next. Glancing back, I suppose I was going to come out and say out. ¡°Listen, I just want to say¡ª¡±


    ¡°You were right,¡± John cut me off, a look of guilt on his face. He looked away himself. ¡°About back with Mason. About everything.¡±


    My eyes widened. I opened my mouth, but I couldn¡¯t say anything. I hadn¡¯t the slightest idea how to respond to that. I stammered in shock. John saw the confusion in my eyes. He explained.


    ¡°All that I tried to be for this city, all I tried to make us be, and they¡¯re throwing us away like trash. You should¡¯ve been there earlier today; it was the arrival celebration for the B-Ranks. They made jokes about us, you know? We were laughed at for getting our asses handed to us. Never mind we stuck our necks out for them.¡± John sighed and rubbed his forehead. ¡°You were right, like always. I just didn¡¯t want to admit it.¡±


    John had never seemed more broken in his entire life.


    During my time in The Urban Defenders, I had wanted nothing more than for him to admit to me it was all a sham. I wanted nothing more than to see him grovel at my feet, and here he was, doing exactly that. I had fantasized this moment for years. But now it wasn¡¯t a victory. Now, it was all just bitter.


    Too little had been said too late. Maybe there was never a chance we would¡¯ve been friends, but I wished things had turned out different. All those years of seething animosity. All of it was just wasted time, and now, time had run out.


    ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t want any of this to happen.¡± I tried to ease him as best as I could.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± John shook his head. ¡°It was dying by Mason or being thrown back in Gen Pop. Either way, The Urban Defenders are through. We¡¯re being kept around for clean-up duty, but as soon as the dust settles, it¡¯s back to City 26.¡±


    So my worst fears had been realized. It was back to the quarantine zone, back to scraping together whatever living one could in the ruins of a city even more far gone than 57.


    ¡°How are the others?¡± I asked, trying to change the topic.


    John looked back at me. ¡°As well as can be. Sarah misses you, by the way.¡±


    My heart nearly ripped in two hearing that. I don¡¯t have any other way to put it. I was a living bundle of regrets, all things half said and half done. I thought I couldn¡¯t wait to be rid of The Urban Defenders. And now I realized it had ended all too soon.


    I felt a raindrop fall on my head, and I gazed up. Looks like the storm finally arrived. One by one, I felt more and more dampness on my face. Though I couldn¡¯t tell if it was the rain or my eyes.


    ¡°So what now?¡± John asked.


    I wiped my face. I may not have been part of The Urban Defenders anymore, but they were still the closest thing I had to friends. I had to warn them. ¡°Tell the team shit¡¯s going to go down tomorrow. Don¡¯t know when or where, but it¡¯s happening tomorrow. And¡­ I¡¯m going to be there.¡±


    John nodded, understanding what I meant. If it came to blows, then they had no choice but to take me down. Otherwise, it was going to be a whole lot worse than Gen Pop waiting for them.


    ¡°Send my regards to Sarah.¡± I waved my hand and started to walk away, preparing to teleport out.


    ¡°Wait!¡± John called out.


    I stopped and turned my head.


    He seemed uncomfortable. To tell you the truth, I still wasn¡¯t comfortable either. But he looked at me with a kindness I never thought I would ever see on his face. ¡°Good luck.¡±


    I smiled in the pattering rain. ¡°You too.¡±

 Chapter Seventeen

    Seattle Vance


    I took a long draw of the cigarette in that dilapidated office atrium. Outside, the rain drizzled quietly on the empty street. The dim sky cast grey shadows throughout the ruined building. The only spark of color was the soft orange embers I held from my fingers.


    It wasn¡¯t bad yet, but it was going to be. The sullen patter was only the beginning. The anger of the storm was approaching, and it would strike soon. I hoped to have the flash drive in hand before then.


    The others were already in the tunnels, searching for the maintenance shaft into the ASA headquarters. The homeless, thankfully, hadn¡¯t been an issue. They retreated to the upper floors for fear of flooding. That left us with much of the run of the place. While the others searched, I elected to be the one to stay behind and keep watch.


    It wasn¡¯t for any practical reason. But I refused to do any job before I had my last cigarette. It was a ritual I needed to do¡ªkinda like a last meal. Back in Cairo, I saw men get disintegrated inside the blink of an eye.


    That was just the way the world worked now. There was no warning or heads up. Sometimes you were gone so instantly it was almost like the reaper taking you in your sleep. You never get used to it, but being scared stiff wasn¡¯t an option either. When you went against Supes¡ªwhich we might be doing¡ªnanoseconds mattered. Usually, nanoseconds were all you were going to get.


    From this point onward, I was a dead man walking. Any million things could and probably would go wrong, but they were guaranteed to get worse if I hesitated. If I was too busy shaking in my boots, that was just going to get everyone killed.


    I found the only way I could shut that side of me off was by telling myself I was already dead. There was nothing to fear and nothing to lose except failing the mission.


    But I couldn¡¯t do that without one last puff of smoke. One last guilty pleasure, I suppose. A funeral service for a dead man walking.


    I didn¡¯t hear Dust as he approached, but I turned my head as I noticed his presence. I think that spooked him a little. It was clear he kept himself quiet on purpose, smart, given his age. He drew back down the dark hallway.


    ¡°We found it.¡±


    My time was up.


    I cracked a smile. ¡°You nervous?¡±


    Dust thought for a moment and then grinned back. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Me too.¡± I put out the cigarette on a nearby wall and flicked the stub away. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing to be a little nervous. It¡¯s a tool. It helps keep you alert. Just don¡¯t let it cloud your head, then it becomes a weakness.¡±


    Dust was wearing an ASA janitor uniform. It was almost comical on someone that young. But maybe that was my parents talking. They had living memories of a world where one could afford to have a childhood, and they tried to pass something of that onto me. But today was a different world.


    We didn¡¯t get to be the people they got to be.


    I grabbed my M4 where I had leaned it up against the wall. ¡°That thing I asked you to do. Can you do it?¡±


    Dust nodded. Taking his hand, he reached for and then into his abdomen. His hand phased through clothing and flesh and then it came out with the smallest of flip phones. He put it back inside a second later.


    I smiled. I ran with a few phasers back in my childhood. The ones I knew were a bit more powerful, but what every phaser eventually learned was that they were their own best hiding place. They made the best thieves because no one thought or wanted to open them up.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand why I have to keep it hidden like this,¡± Dust asked. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I just place the call when trouble hits?¡±


    ¡°If trouble hits.¡± I slung the M4 over my shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re not going to get that chance. You go up against a class three, the only question is whether he wants to take you alive. That phone is for what comes after, when the ball is in our court. That is when people like us can turn the tables.¡±


    I followed Dust down the dark hallway and down several sets of stairs into the basement. We turned on our flashlights as we passed by forgotten rooms filled with dust and debris. The concrete walls were cracked and splitting open. The water trickled everywhere, and there were pools of fetid filth. We covered our noses as we walked back.


    We finally came to a long, dingy hallway. Raven and August were standing over an open ventilation duct. It had been part of the old infrastructure before it was renovated and renovated again, a holdover that no one had bothered to remove.


    ¡°It¡¯s about twenty feet down and then a left,¡± Raven said as we approached. ¡°Then we¡¯re in.¡±


    I crouched down over the square opening. It only had room for a single person at a time. ¡°I sure hope none of you are claustrophobic.¡±


    August shrugged. ¡°Only on the way back.¡±


    I went prone and crawled in. I turned off my flashlight. It would¡¯ve been a bitch to hold it, and I knew I probably didn¡¯t want to see what I was wriggling through, anyway. And after this, the next step on our little heist were the containment chambers.


    Of course, I knew what to expect. They were little more than pits big enough to squeeze three or four kids. Covered with a thick slab of metal, the point was to give them no room to use their powers. Keep them underfed and exhausted¡ªto the brink of death¡ªso they don¡¯t have the energy to fight back. Most couldn¡¯t anyway. The kids thrown in the pits were largely class ones and twos and maybe a three here and there. Fours and fives got the deprivation tank, which would be on a lower floor.


    I wondered if any of them ever escaped and found this little passage to freedom. Probably not, as the ASA would¡¯ve patched this hole in their security. Still, I wanted to believe. I wanted those kids to have some hope. Even in the pits, if you¡¯re just clever and resourceful enough, there¡¯s always a way out.


    It was tragic I couldn¡¯t afford to be that way out today.


    I took a left and got to the end. There was a flimsy grate looking over a small storage closet. It was filled with boxes and janitorial equipment. I banged the thin metal off and dropped down. I did my best to clean myself off as the others dropped down with me. It was tight, but we all managed to get through fine.


    Raven silently opened the door, and I followed her out into a LED lit corridor. It was a sterile, white hallway¡ªsomething you would see at a hospital. Everything looked and smelled scrubbed with chemicals.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    We knew from the blueprints that we were currently in one of the auxiliary hallways that branched off from the main tunnel network. The whole thing was a spider¡¯s nest that burrowed downward, with the most powerful being kept at the bottom. We walked down the hallway as if we were supposed to be there, which was far more difficult than one might think.


    The place was surprisingly empty, but we found our mark easily enough. He was patrolling one of the containment chambers, a long room with a low ceiling. I tried to ignore the slabs of metal as I approached and tapped him on the shoulder.


    I was surprised how skinny he was. He looked like an impish man more than anything else. I remembered them being a lot larger, but maybe that kid me talking. He turned around.


    I smiled. ¡°Hey.¡±


    Before he had a moment to react further, Raven placed her hands on his head. A blue light glowed from her hands and the man went limp, dropping his gun to the ground. I had scanned for cameras before we entered the room, but I checked again. There were none. I guess nobody wanted to risk footage of this particular room getting out.


    I took a glance out in the corridor to make sure no one was coming our way before turning back to the room. Again, besides the slabs of metal, it didn¡¯t seem particularly malicious. It looked like an enlarged hospital room. There were cabinets and refrigerators full of drugs against one wall. There were tables with paperwork and forms. The LED lighting made it all look sickly and sterile¡ªbut not evil.


    It was a room. That was the only impression made on my mind. If not for my memories, I would¡¯ve thought nothing of it. I walked over to one of the slabs of metal and put my hand on it. It was heavy and large enough that it muffled any sound from below.


    I was always disturbed at how silent it all was. One of the most terrible places in the world, and it was so quiet you could pass by without ever noticing.


    I waited as Raven gathered the info she needed. It wasn¡¯t long.


    ¡°When will he wake up?¡± I lightly kicked his unconscious body.


    ¡°A few hours, but I don¡¯t want anyone finding him. What do we do?¡± She asked.


    I glanced over to the pits. There was one with the metal slab uncovered, empty, to be used for later. We shoved him in and covered the hole.


    We met up with Dust and August. They were carrying duffle bags filled with the explosives. I took the one from August as we proceeded to take the elevator. The doors closed on us as Raven punched in the garage.


    ¡°So I guess this is it?¡± August said. ¡°We¡¯re not going to see each other until the mission is completed?¡±


    ¡°I guess so,¡± I said.


    ¡°Any last words then?¡± August joked.


    I grinned at him. ¡°Nothing can possibly go wrong.¡±


    The doors opened to a large parking garage and me and Dust filed out. August waved us goodbye as we began strolling over to several columns and hiding the explosives near the floor. The parking garage wasn¡¯t anything to look at either. The only abnormal thing about it was how many armored trucks there were. But there were also a lot of normal cars, like¡­ for regular people.


    I glanced around as I set a brick of C4 on the ground and tucked it into a discreet corner. I expected we would have to play it easy, acting like we were just doing our jobs for some people walking around¡­ but there was no one. Whole place was empty. It just gave me the creeps, the only sound was the faint patter of the storm outside. Our footsteps echoed in the large space as we silently did our work, uninterrupted by so much as a single passerby.


    It was so easy that we were done much earlier than I expected. We were walking back to the elevator in just under ten minutes. I knew the plan was to wait for Raven and August, but there wasn¡¯t much point standing around and looking suspicious.


    I punched in for the elevator. Dust glanced at me, but he didn¡¯t say a word. We would ride it up to our next floor and find a good spot to hide in until Raven and August were finished. As the doors opened again to an office hallway, I had to stifle a groan.


    I don¡¯t know what I was constantly wanting from this place, maybe something like an evil lair with hooks and chains hanging from the ceiling. But it wasn¡¯t that. It was an office building just like the rest. We passed by banal people and banal rooms as we looked for a quiet room to wait for the signal. I paused as we went by a printer.


    It wasn¡¯t one of those fancy printers with a sleek design. It was one of those older, bulky printers from ancient times. It was one of those machines you found so often in the Democratic Union¡ªsome clumsy device weathered with age and disrepair. It was so old and so ill-maintained that it looked held together with nothing but spit, rubber bands, and duct-tape. Some guy in a white shirt and tie was struggling to get a form printed out.


    So this is it. This is the heart of all evil.


    I knew every single ASA regional headquarters looked something like this as well, a network of trite offices scattered throughout the country. And the most depressing was, it didn¡¯t matter if Adam Mason ended up destroying this place. It didn¡¯t matter if he leveled this building to the ground because there were thousands of other places exactly like this still standing.


    And this one would be rebuilt anyway.


    My parents weren¡¯t old American sympathizers like I told Raven, but even if they were, nothing could¡¯ve done would¡¯ve made a damn difference. I know what I said earlier about people changing, but this place had set me in a bad mood. Bad memories. That man struggling with a printer was part of a corpse of a system so unmovable that it outlasted the end of the world. And the more it decayed and festered, the more it seemed things couldn¡¯t keep going on like this, the more it just kept chugging on.


    People like Raven think they can hold on to something¡ªanything. But the truth was, this world was dead, and it was probably going to drag everyone down with it.


    We found a darkened conference room to wait for the signal. The rain was pattering against the windows. Looking out, the world was a blurry, wet mess. To be honest, I never liked the rain. No matter how hard a storm raged, it was never enough to wash the world away. I never saw the point, then.


    ¡°This has been too easy.¡± Dust broke the silence as he sat in one of the chairs, grinning nervously.


    He had the energy of a child doing something forbidden¡ªwhich he was. I knew the look in his eye. He was worried about getting caught, but not actually believing he would. He fidgeted in his chair, impatient to get on with it. This was dangerous, and for that reason, it was exciting for him.


    I smiled and shook my head. ¡°Don¡¯t jinx us, kid. We¡¯ve got a long ways to go before this is done.¡±


    Lightning rumbled in the sky. I could swear I saw movement in the other buildings, probably more homeless looking for shelter. But I imagined they were soldiers, all ready to spring at us. The empty garage had been eerie, and I suppose I have come to always expect ambushes.


    When I was fifteen, I ran with a few bootleggers through Sector 5, up in the mountains of what was formerly West Virginia. People always said those mountains were haunted. Never saw any evidence of that, but there were plenty of bandits and rad-mutants. Anyways, we were in a convoy heading down some backroads when we were ambushed. Never even saw the damn muzzle flashes as everyone I knew was cut down. By some miracle, I wasn¡¯t hit. I opened the door and crawled on my hands and knees into a nearby ditch as I saw silhouettes clear the trucks. Most heart pounding fifteen minutes of my life.


    And then they left. And then I was alone with ten corpses.


    That¡¯s why I don¡¯t like working with people close to me. They always get caught in the crossfire. I glanced at Dust.


    ¡°You think we¡¯ll get to see The Vagabond fight?¡± Dust he asked, tearing me away from my thoughts.


    I grunted. ¡°Hope not.¡±


    ¡°Does he really hate the ASA like they say? That he¡¯s going to come tear it all down?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say for sure.¡±


    ¡°How do you know him by the way? Were you two friends?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°No.¡±


    Before Dust could ask another question, I shot him an annoyed glance that shut him up. But his questions had stirred something in me. Something that I didn¡¯t want to think about.


    There were so many faces¡ªghosts really¡ªthat flashed before my eyes, but for some reason, the one that stood out was Adam¡¯s. That one had I thought I would feel the least about. Wrong time and place and all that. I can¡¯t say I regretted it then, but I did regret it now.


    I didn¡¯t know why it hurt so much now. He didn¡¯t mean anything to me, unlike some of the others. But strangely, maybe it was that lack of connection that made it so important. I didn¡¯t know the man, and I never would. But his life certainly meant something to him. It didn¡¯t matter that I handed him superpowers. I still murdered him. Did he have any family? Any friends?


    Would anyone miss him when he was gone? Or would he just be forgotten? Was he just one more tragic story to be half-remembered in this half-remembered city?


    I didn¡¯t know, and it disturbed me that I didn¡¯t. I should¡¯ve known. I should¡¯ve had the decency to ask. Instead, I had crossed another line I couldn¡¯t take back.


    Looking out into the rain, I suddenly felt angry. The rain should¡¯ve washed all this away, and it was a downright crime that it didn¡¯t.


    The walkie talkie buzzed with Raven¡¯s voice. I picked up and answered it, even though I knew what it meant.


    Adam Mason¡¯s time was up.

 Chapter Eighteen

    Adam Mason


    We waited in a dark, blown-out construction site. It was one of those buildings that were abandoned half-finished when the bombs fell. All around us was concrete, steel beams, and plastic sheeting. And all of it seemed to be covered in a thick layer of dirt. One wall was left to the open air, rain puddling where the wind blew it in. Up above wasn¡¯t faring much better, water trickling down from where it had eroded the ceiling.


    Daniel paced in the dimly lit ruin, impatient to get on with it. He was always impatient. It was one of the things I liked about him. I leaned against a girder, watching the rain fall over City 57. I was surprised how calm I was, despite my headache. The pounding in my head was a new constant, a reminder that I was dying, and yet, I was strangely unperturbed by it.


    I suppose there was no point in worrying or crying or panicking. It wouldn¡¯t help things. It would just be wasting time¡ªtime that I was alive. Every second mattered now, and I didn¡¯t want to spend it in fear. And even if I walked away with the serum to extend my life, sooner or later I would be right back where I started.


    Glancing down, I saw a sun-bleached hardhat left lying on the floor. I wondered who it had belonged to. There were other things scattered about as well, tools, wheelbarrows, electrical equipment. All of it left behind after the bombs fell.


    When the construction workers fled, I wonder if anyone knew it was for the last time. They probably knew they themselves would never be coming back. But did they know that this was what would happen to all their hard-earned work? Did they know the ruin this place would become decades later? Maybe. Did they know what their city would become?


    I don¡¯t think anyone imagined no one would come back. It¡¯s a hard thing to wrap your head around. It¡¯s easy to think about the end of the world, not so with what happens after. That all of it would just be left here¡ªnot destroyed or reduced to glass in nuclear fire. It¡¯s just that no one came to rebuild, and no one came to tear it down.


    Nothing happened. And nothing would continue to happen until the elements had finally reduced City 57 to dust.


    All we were left with was an unfinished world slowly being eroded back down to grave. I suppose there¡¯s a lesson in that. Do what needs doing now, because you might never get the chance.


    Blood dripped again, splattered from my nose onto the wet concrete. It was happening slowly, but more and more as time went on. I held out my hand and caught a few drops. They felt strangely warm in my palm.


    So what was left that needed doing? Was there anything I could do that would make a difference? Was there anything I even wanted to do?


    Before I had time to consider the question further, the phone buzzed in my pocket. I clenched my fist, feeling my life literally bleed out from me, and I answered it.


    Seattle¡¯s voice came in clear. ¡°ASA regional headquarters. Do what you do best.¡±


    I shut the phone off. In the darkness, I glanced at Daniel Peterson. He had stopped pacing.


    Breathing in deeply, I tried to brace myself for what was to come. ¡°Do you have any regrets?¡± I asked Daniel, cracking a smile.


    ¡°Too many to count,¡± he responded. ¡°¡­but this isn¡¯t one of them.¡±


    ¡°Hm,¡± I snorted, smiling at him.


    I wish in moments like these I knew what to say. It felt as if something profound ought to reveal itself, like speaking your last words on your deathbed. But I was terrible with words. Instead, I silently nodded and turned towards the building¡¯s edge. Peering out over the ruined city, broken skyscrapers worn away from decades of neglect, streets filled with refuge and garbage and husks of old cars, I wondered if any of it meant anything. Maybe I might hear a secret answer carried on the wind. But none came. Only the relentless downpour of the rain.


    Ah well, no point in wasting time.


    I exploded from the rooftop into flight. The impact left a crater where I once stood, and I hurtled through the air towards the ASA headquarters. Daniel followed me as best as he could, but even his teleportation couldn¡¯t keep up with my speed.


    Wasn¡¯t trying to ditch him, but I wanted to see what my superpowers could really do one last time before I went into the thick of it. For once since becoming ultra hobo, I wanted to flex my muscles and see what my limits were. I pushed myself further and further on. The wind became a cacophony in my ear. I could actually feel the rain again, tiny pinpricks of cold against my skin. I flew faster than a bullet, the air offering little resistance as I sped up still.


    And then there was an explosion. It took me off guard, causing my heart to a skip a beat¡ªthe first time that had happened in a long while. I didn¡¯t stop, but I stopped pushing faster as I felt a force and noise ripple out from me.


    It echoed across the city as the loudest of thunderclap. I saw windows break in the skyscrapers next to me. It took me a minute to realize what it was. It was one of those things my parents used to try to teach me about the old world. The parents of my generation often did that, recounting the miracles you hardly believed to be true. It was like landing on the moon, diving to the deepest depths of the ocean, going faster than the speed of sound, I never really cared about any of it.


    But here I was. I had broken the sound barrier. And I had done it without breaking so much as a sweat.


    I was still flying impossibly fast over the city, so much so that I realized I had overshot my target by miles. I slowed down to a standstill. My heart was still beating a little quicker in my chest, a rush of sensation that was more precious to me than that last crummy cheeseburger I had before becoming what I was now. .


    As I turned back to the ASA headquarters, I found myself wishing I had more time. I wished, just once, I had the opportunity to show the world what I was really capable of. Who knows? Maybe I would still have that chance.


    ¡­


    I landed just outside the building. Daniel was waiting for me, and he grimaced as I landed.


    ¡°Could you have made our entrance any more discreet?¡± he asked sarcastically.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°Wasn¡¯t thinking. Besides, it wouldn¡¯t have been long for them to get to us, anyway.¡±


    I glanced around. The city was ringing out in alarms. The ASA building in particular was blasting noise. But despite that, from down on the street, everything seemed oddly peaceful. I knew the Alpha Trio were already on their way, and things were about to get ugly. But for some reason, it felt like they also wouldn¡¯t, that everything would just carry on as it was. I suppose it was the quiet before combat, I guess.


    We were both drenched. Daniel and I were wearing stolen secondhand clothes, and we were already both soaked through¡ªthough mine had taken more of a beating with the sonic boom. We waited there, standing in the middle of the street like two random fuck-ups with their thumbs up their asses, hanging around for whatever was supposed to happen.


    A minute passed.


    I could detect people in the ASA regional headquarters. Not enough to pick out individual identities, but I could sense about a hundred or so people in the building. I even sensed tiny children, trapped in pits in the basement.


    Many of the people in the ASA headquarters were rushing towards the stairs or the lower levels. There was a tunnel which led out of the building and stretched out for a distance until I lost track of it. I presumed it was for situations almost exactly like the one right now. Someone dangerous with superpowers had gotten loose.


    There were other people in other buildings, obscured by the shadows. Some ran¡ªmany did¡ªbut others stayed to watch. They were curious of how things were going to play out. I don¡¯t know if Daniel sensed it, but I suddenly felt like I was being put on a stage, a spectacle for people¡¯s entertainment. Some of those people were recording us with their phones, streaming our appearance to the internet.


    And there were others. They were strange, couldn¡¯t quite make them out. Like static or something.


    Eh, I figured it was the rain. That, or it was another symptom of me literally dying.


    Well, if they wanted a show, I wasn¡¯t one to disappoint. I strolled over to a nearby car and boredly picked it up. Weighing the object in my hands, the metal tore in my fingers. You know, I was wondering earlier just how much damage I had caused to this city.


    I smiled. Time to cause a little more.


    Flinging the car at the ASA headquarters, the building exploded in glass shards and wrecked steel. The alarm went really loud now. The structure shrieked as I carved a great wound up its side. No one was injured, however. Even with the ASA, I didn¡¯t want to be a killer.


    I didn¡¯t like the thought of taking so many people¡¯s lives, especially since I would be meeting them again so very soon. So close to the end, I realized death becomes an enemy in a way. It¡¯s not just some inevitable thing you put off until you can¡¯t anymore. It¡¯s to be fought back against, with every breath you have in your body. I didn¡¯t want to die today. And strangely enough, I didn¡¯t want anyone else to die either.


    I wish the world were simple, that we could¡¯ve moved on with our lives without fighting and just made peace. If we could go our separate ways and live the lives we wanted. But even as I thought that, I laughed at myself. I¡¯ve had a lot of bizarre thoughts over the past few days, but that was the most ridiculous one of them all. No. As I stood in the downpour, I realized that just wasn¡¯t how things were, no matter how much you truly wished it to be. There was no peace, not in this life anyway.


    But I realized there was a chance here, in all this bloodshed and violence. Something better could come out of this twisted situation we found ourselves in. And in this tragic life I had lived, it would be an even bigger tragedy if I didn¡¯t take it.


    Turning to Daniel, I said to him. ¡°You know, the thought occurs, you¡¯re not going to last long in this fight.¡±


    He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°So?¡±


    It was his apathy that really got to me. I was the man dying, and yet it was Daniel who was the one who had already given up everything. Despite everything, City 57 had broken him first. That only made my resolve stronger. I didn¡¯t come here to kill people. I knew I would, but that wasn¡¯t the reason I wanted to be here. If it was at all possible, I wanted to save someone¡ªanyone. And then maybe my eventual death would¡¯ve been worth it.


    ¡°There¡¯s children in the ASA building. I know you know too.¡± I nodded down below my feet. ¡°Go get them out of here.¡±


    Daniel looked surprised at my suggestion. ¡°What? Just leave you alone against the Alpha Trio?¡±


    I grimaced. I had no idea whether I could take them. I don¡¯t think anyone did. But if I couldn¡¯t, it wasn¡¯t likely Daniel was going to tip those odds back in my favor. The fact was, he was simply outclassed here. And as far as I saw it, he shouldn¡¯t just throw himself into the meat grinder.


    ¡°Listen.¡± I put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°We have no idea how this is going to play out. But all in all, it¡¯s the same if I die here or a few months from now. But if I am going to die, I don¡¯t want you to die with me. And I want to go out making a difference.¡±


    ¡°What difference?¡± Daniel spat with surprising spite. ¡°I want to fight, and I wanna die. I want to get this shitshow over with.¡±


    I was utterly shocked for a moment, and then surprising even myself, I slapped him. Not too hard, but it was enough to send him off his feet. I dragged him back up, and I leaned in close. I could barely believe the words coming out my mouth, but this time my tongue wasn¡¯t tied.


    ¡°Fuck dying. You hear me!? We¡¯ve both got screwed over in this life, but I¡¯ll be damned if we don¡¯t go out tearing the ASA a new one! And if we can¡¯t do that, we can at least go out doing some good along the way!¡± I breathed heavily, my heart racing in my chest.


    Daniel seemed a little shocked at my change in mood. To be honest, so was I. A new fire had lit in me, and I wasn¡¯t going to fucking give up at this final juncture.


    He nodded and disappeared, leaving me alone in the street. Just in time too, a spotlight suddenly shone down from above. The bright flare would¡¯ve blinded the old me, but it was no different from looking into a worn out flashlight. Several helicopters kept their distance, their noise obscured in the increasing downpour.


    Three figures detached. I say detached, because I wasn¡¯t quite sure what the right words were for it. I saw light contort and contract in a beam of impossible angles. It was like staring into a fractured mirror house. Even my amped up senses couldn¡¯t quite make out what I was staring at.


    And then the three were standing in the street right in front of me.


    Cosmic Warrior.


    Iron shield.


    And in the middle, Lance Bain.


    The three looked like hyped up versions of the Urban Defenders, even in their costumes. Cosmic Warrior was a darker skinned man in his forties with a black goatee. He wore purple translucent armor with little specks of light suspended in the plating. Underneath this was black garments which too were speckled with strange lights. Nothing my eyes couldn¡¯t handle, but he looked like an ethereal knight of the stars come down to do battle. He even had a knight¡¯s visor and a sword.


    Iron Shield, surprisingly unfaithful to his name, had no such shield. But then I realized that wasn¡¯t the gimmick. It was his whole body that was supposed to be the shield. He was a hulk of a man covered in metal like a second skin. And it might¡¯ve literally been a second skin for all I could tell. In places it writhed and pulsed almost like water. In others, it seemed firmer and more sturdy than the toughest steel. As he stood, a crest of metal formed into an impressive chest plate emblazoned with a symbol of three circles inside a triangle¡ªtheir logo, I should take it.


    Lance Bain was the smallest and less impressive of the three. He wore a simple red jumpsuit. Must¡¯ve been flame-retardant too. Anything else would burn up with his powers. With a shock of red hair and a bristly crimson 5 o¡¯clock shadow, he seemed to be the most veteran of the three, even though he looked to be the youngest in his thirties.


    ¡°So what now?¡± I asked, stepping towards them. I¡¯m the supervillain in this scenario, right? Do you need me to do anything for the cameras, give some speech about how I¡¯m evil and destroying the world? Or are we just going to get down to the fighting?¡±


    Lance nodded his head, sizing me up. ¡°Don¡¯t take this personally,¡± he said, bracing himself for combat.


    I chuckled at that. It was so obvious it was written on their faces. They didn¡¯t want to be here anymore than I did. I recognized Lance¡¯s face then. It was Daniel¡¯s, only a little older and more than a little weary. It made me wonder how far it went. Were there any true believers in the Democratic Union left? I assumed someone at the top must¡¯ve cared. But every time, it seemed like this theory was proven more and more wrong.


    But unlike Daniel, I could tell this was the man who compromised at the critical moment, the man who gave up and did his lot. There was no talking it out this time around. There was fighting and seeing who came out on the other end.


    And I struck first.

 Chapter Nineteen

    Daniel Peterson


    My senses guided my way to the basement. I appeared in a long concrete hall lined with metal slabs. I had no idea how many kids there were here, but getting them out wasn¡¯t the problem. It was getting them to a safe range.


    Never mind that Adam Mason would be having the fight of his life up there¡ªI knew ASA reinforcements would arrive as soon as Mason was put down. Not just them, but CitySec too. Hell, every armed grunt with a gun was probably being sent to the regional headquarters to close in and contain the damage. That meant I would have to travel quite a distance to make sure the kids had a good chance to escape.


    Grasping with both hands, I yanked the slab aside to take a look, and my heart sank in my chest. Five faces covered themselves from what must¡¯ve been blinding light from above. Three boys and two girls. They wore rags, and they were so skinny they might¡¯ve been human sticks. The pit was so small that only two at a time had room to sleep. The rest had to remain standing.


    They were covered in filth, and concrete was crusted with layers of human detritus. The ASA hadn¡¯t even bothered to hose it down.


    I doubted they had the strength to flee, even if I got them to safety. And yet, despite the squalor, the three young boys who could¡¯ve been no older than nine, stood to guard for the girls against the stranger who had opened the gate.


    Just seeing that small act made me realize Mason was right. This had been the right call all along. Looking over the rest of the pits, I made a decision. I could try to save a few with longer distance jumps, or I could try to save many. Sure, most of them would probably be snatched up again once things settled.


    But if I had been one of those kids, and I had known I had been passed over for a chance of freedom because of bad luck¡­


    There was no time to explain to them. Taking two at a time, I teleported quickly across tunnels and empty rooms and even a sewer until we were in a flooding alleyway. The five children stumbled, disoriented by the quick transition. It had all been over in a few seconds, and from how they moved, I knew their limbs must¡¯ve been impossibly stiff from weeks of being trapped in such a cramped space.


    The oldest among the group¡ªa boy¡ªstood to face me, to see what my intentions were. His expression was hard. His matted hair and dirty face stared defiantly at me, waiting to see what new trap had been sprung on them. The young kid had been forced to grow up very fast. He knew there was no such thing as a good turn¡ªexcept for maybe just this once¡ªthere was.


    I nodded towards the outside street. The rain was pouring down. ¡°Run as fast as you can.¡± I told him, disappearing a second later.


    Pit by pit, I rescued those children. I tried to ignore the fighting as best as I could, and it was all too tempting to watch and see how Adam was doing. But if I did that, it would be wasting the precious little time he had given me. As I was taking two into a nearby building, a great burst of flame shattered through the wall right in front of us. The roar of fire singed my arms, and I grabbed the poor children again before they got caught in the flame. Teleporting them to the hollowed-out ruins of a cafe that was knee-deep in water, I dropped them off and went back to the ASA building.


    Did it feel good? Was this an act of righteous rebellion against the Democratic Union? I won¡¯t deny it. It felt good finally sticking it to the world. But there was also just more tragedy. Some of those kids I saved were too far gone. They could barely move, let alone flee for their lives. Some were broken. They sat huddled as infants, not responding even as I desperately tried to make them run.


    And some were just feral.


    One child I rescued grew claws and tried to rake my eyes out in screeching hatred. There were others like him too, both boys and girls who would spend the rest of their lives as barely better than animals.


    But it was important to me that they got the same chance. A chance at freedom that I never had.Maybe those feral kids could one day climb out of the terrible circumstances they found themselves in. Maybe not. Probably not. But they deserved the chance, anyway.


    And for those like the first child I rescued, the one who stood defiantly, they were the ones who kept me coming back. The ones who hadn¡¯t been broken, the ones who remained steadfast, they especially deserved that chance.


    And I was damned if I was going to leave any of them behind.


    I don¡¯t know how long it took. Maybe it was ten minutes. Maybe it was an hour. Maybe more. As I dropped another child off, I teleported to a building overlooking the ASA regional headquarters. Glancing down from a window, I saw the carnage that had been wrought.


    There were heaps of molten metal still steaming in the rain. There were great craters in the street¡¯s asphalt where the water poured into puddles of grimy water. I took that to be Lance Bain and Cosmic Warrior¡¯s work, using fire and contorting gravity to try to kill Mason. But amongst the devastation and ruin, I saw a lone body.


    It appeared Iron Shield had been the first to fall. The metal spilled out from him like a pool of widening blood. His head had been chopped off, probably by the strike of an arm. I didn¡¯t know what to think of the corpse. Should I be happy? He had come here to kill or arrest us, or worse. Should I be sad? His was probably a similar tragedy to my own, except he had a lot more perks.


    But to tell the truth, I didn¡¯t feel much of anything. I didn¡¯t have it in my heart anymore to mourn everyone who dies along my path. I don¡¯t think I can.


    Iron Shield had died and was left in the rain. I didn¡¯t know him. I didn¡¯t know his story. All I knew was that it would be up to his comrades to carry on this forgotten corpse¡¯s memory. And when they died, it would be up to someone else to remember them.


    And when it was my turn, I sincerely hoped the Urban Defenders would remember me.


    I looked into the blackened and thundering sky. I saw towers of fire and beams of contorted light as three figures fought in brutal combat. I was too far out to guess who was winning and who was losing. For all I knew, Adam Mason was on his last legs, and he would soon be brought down. And then again, for all I knew, he was the one who would come out on top. I wish I knew the answer, but until then, I had no choice but to fulfill his request.


    Teleporting away, I entered the last pit. The grate blocked out all light, but I could sense two forms huddled in the darkness. One boy and one girl stiffened at the new arrival. They hugged each other and tried to draw away from me. I took them and I put them in a distant alley.


    They slowly uncurled from one another, taking in their surroundings.


    ¡°Run as fast as you can,¡± I told them as I turned to teleport away.


    ¡°Wait!¡± The boy cried out suddenly.


    I glanced back at him.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked, quicker on the uptake than most. He figured out I had been there to set them free.


    I was about to ignore him, but something made me pause. I chuckled and lifted my head to the pouring sky, feeling the rain fall on my face before looking back to him. Of everything I had done in my entire life, this was the one moment I felt I could be proud of. This was the one moment I got to be a superhero¡ªa real one. Hell, so why not?


    ¡°Just call me Nighthawk.¡± I smiled at him and disappeared in the blink of an eye.


    Back to the basement, I was running one more check through all the levels to make sure I had gotten everyone on the upper levels. I knew the sensory deprivation tanks were a bitch, but thankfully they weren¡¯t locked from the outside.


    And thanks to my rather familiar experience with them, I also knew the control scheme to initiate an emergency release. Hatches near the bottom of the tanks burst open, streaming water out into the holding floor. Wires and tubes retracted, the lids hissed open, and soon, there were dozens of people floating face down in pools of fetid, freezing water.


    Many were kids, but there were also a few adults. Grown-ups didn¡¯t typically get the pits. They were transferred out to Gen Pop, or otherwise executed. Too hard to control, too much of a risk. I sighed and got back to work. Teleporting in the water with them, I got each of them out, trying to go farther afield.


    It took frustratingly long minutes even as I tried to take two at a time. Ripping the masks off, I found one or two that weren¡¯t breathing. I got them out anyway. Didn¡¯t feel right to leave them there like that.


    Once this holding room was done, I moved onto the next, and once I was done with them, I moved onto the next floor.


    The people in the deprivation tanks¡ªI didn¡¯t even know if they had a chance. All of them were pretty much unconscious¡ªall of them looked half dead. It was all I could do to put them in discreet locations and hoped they would wake up in time.


    If they didn¡¯t, well, I knew I wasn¡¯t going to be able to save everyone from this mess.


    And by the time I went back to the lowest level, I was honestly dizzy. I stumbled against a nearby wall, trying to keep myself upright. I remember when I was a kid, and I just gotten my powers. I could teleport up to a dozen times a day before getting exhausted. And as the years passed and my powers grew, it wasn¡¯t really a problem anymore. I knew my limit was up there¡ªsomewhere. But hell, I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I had been forced to jump this many times in a month, let alone a week.


    How many times had I jumped? Hundreds at least.


    I was so out of it that I barely noticed the noise of footsteps in the hall. I teleported out of the way just as they were rounding a corner.


    It was weird, now that I thought about it. It was so much of an adrenaline rush that I realized I honestly hadn¡¯t seen many guards. One or two I guess, but they were easy to get around. I suppose the rest had evacuated? I mean, they were normals after all. No point in standing your ground.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    But what were these guys doing then? There hadn¡¯t been any prisoners on this floor¡ªI was checking twice just to make sure I hadn¡¯t missed something.


    Glancing around the corner, I watched stealthily behind them as they went down the hallway. They wore black uniforms similar to riot gear, but there was no identification or markings you would normally see with soldiers of the like. They carried big guns that I recognized as¡ª


    What the fuck?


    I rubbed my eyes.


    Those were sonic cannons. The biggest, the baddest, the most expensive hardware for going up against abnormals. What the hell were they doing down here then!? The fight was on the surface! Were they going after me?


    But as I looked further, the more confused I became. The way they walked, they weren¡¯t searching around for somebody. They were going somewhere. The men marched down the hall in a brisk formation, clearly knowing the layout of this place.


    I hadn¡¯t been expecting this at all.


    Was this some part of Vance¡¯s plan? Were they Vance¡¯s men? I doubted it. Sonic cannons were multi-million dollar equipment, reserved only for the elite of the elite. When we raided his hideout, his guys were using scavenged C4 and old military surplus. The ASA then? They certainly had access to that sort of hardware.


    But not for a place like City 57. They wouldn¡¯t waste that kind of firepower on this radiated slumville.


    As much I still wanted to go back up to the surface to see how Mason was doing¡­ I was exhausted. And frankly, I was curious to see what they were up to.


    They disappeared around another corner down the narrow concrete hallway. I tried to keep up on foot, quietly using my teleportation only when I had to catch up or when I lost them. I followed them for quite a distance, tailing them through several cramped passages until we came upon an innocuous hallway no different than the last.


    I mean, the lower levels were all the same grey concrete with the same LED lighting. Interspersed with pipes and supply closets, there wasn¡¯t exactly much to look at down here.


    The men stopped at one seam running down a concrete wall. I had no idea why they stopped, but it seemed this was their destination. I crouched down and tried to listen in on their conversation.


    It seemed they were talking with themselves and someone else who was phoning them. Couldn¡¯t hear who was on the other end of the line, but I could make out some of the chatter between them.


    ¡°¡­Mason is stronger than expected¡­more time than we thought¡­¡±


    ¡°¡ªwhat about Vance?¡±


    ¡°¡­trap. He won¡¯t make it¡­¡±


    ¡°Joker¡¯s orders. Just get the target.¡±


    One of the soldiers went up to the seam and brought out a plastic security card. Running it along the innocuous surface, a green light beeped in the crack. The concrete paneling rumbled as it fell away and folded to one side, revealing a previously hidden passage that was coated with a dark, glossy material.


    Refined Zurchon.


    I didn¡¯t even know what to think. This was a different world than what I was used to. When you wanted to contain abnormals, you threw them in the pits. When that wasn¡¯t good enough, then it was the tank.


    When that wasn¡¯t good enough¡­


    Normally, with my teleportation, I gain a snapshot of all of my surroundings. I am able to immediately understand everything around me in less than a blink of an eye and move for my best advantage. But Refined Zurchon made me as pathetically normal as Mason had been. Damn thing was even invisible to my super sense.


    The men filed into the secret corridor, leaving the entrance open. I knew what was happening was way over my head, but still, wasn¡¯t I here to die in glorious battle anyway? Hell, if there was a prison cell that needed Refined Zurchon, maybe I could get some actual backup for Mason. And besides, my interest was thoroughly piqued.


    I carefully stepped out of the corner and quietly made my way over to the passage.


    The secret entrance led to a circular hallway. A catwalk was suspended from the ceiling, and above, dark red lights dimly lit the space. The walls were entirely dark, almost like they weren¡¯t even there to begin with. It extended a long way, then started to descend down. The six men were already nearly out of sight.


    I made to follow, but as soon as I took the first step onto the grating of the catwalk, I felt a shiver down my spine. It was like some part of me was being cut off. My instincts kicked in, and I tried to teleport away, except I found I couldn¡¯t.


    My heart started pounding in my chest, and I hesitated to continue. You need to understand. My entire life¡ªexcept in the tank¡ªI had always had a way out. No one really understands what it¡¯s like, but imagine having a button you could press to get you out of whatever trouble you were in. And no matter how fast the other guy tried, as long as you saw him coming, you were always faster.


    Now the button was turned off. It was like suddenly losing an arm or a leg, and wondering what you¡¯ll do now.


    It was terrifying.


    And yet, I still needed to know. Honestly, I don¡¯t know where this overpowering urge came within me. Maybe it was that I thought I was going to die soon anyway, and if I went with unanswered questions, well, for whatever reason, that was more unbearable than anything.


    I pressed on, knowing that in here, this was it. Outside I had a safety net. In here, one mistake would cost me my life. Which was funny because I didn¡¯t give two shits about my life ten seconds ago. But what can I say? There¡¯s nothing like clandestine men and a scary hallway to put the fear of death right back in you.


    Quietly, I tried to walk down the passage. The noise of my feet hitting the grate still seemed absurdly loud. But then I realized it was because this corridor was silent, too silent. There wasn¡¯t the hum of machinery or the flow of air. There was¡­ nothing. And the deafening silence began to hurt my ears.


    Going along a little faster, I reached the point where the catwalk was segmented into stairs leading down. Given that we were in the lower levels of a basement already deep in the earth, it unnerved me just how far down it went. All in all, I would say we were about half a mile under City 57.


    I tiptoed down the stairs as fast as I could, and when I nearly reached the bottom, I came across an opened vault door with way too many security measures to make me comfortable. It was at least two feet of solid steel and with more keypads and finger scanners than I had seen in my entire life. The blocky aperture also provided good cover as I crouched to get a good look at the room beyond.


    The only way to describe it was part laboratory and part viewing room. Three large panes of glass overlooked a concrete chamber beyond, coated with the same black substance as what coated the hallway. In the viewing room were countless computers and control monitors and screens. Most of it showed diagnostic information I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of. In the back corner were several large servers and even what I took to be an independent power generator.


    Two of the six men had remained in the viewing room. They were seated, working the controls with an unnerving familiarity.


    From this vantage point, I couldn¡¯t see what the viewing room was overlooking, and if I wanted to, I would have to get closer.


    Part of me screamed to run away, but again I pressed forward. My feet felt like they were rooted to the ground. My breath loudly grated on my ears, only outpaced by my heart which felt like it was going to explode in my chest. And yet, I pushed forward. I was no more than a few feet away from the two men, but I could see the further room beyond.


    The concrete chamber contained three spheroid capsules placed on mechanical pedestals affixed into the ground. I say capsules because I didn¡¯t know how else to describe them. Pods maybe. Either way, they were big enough to fit several grown men at least. They were covered in bizarre devices and blinking lights that again made no sense to me. The other four men worked on the leftmost sphere, inputting commands into an interface and monitoring the pod.


    On each of them was a pane of frosted glass that frustratingly revealed nothing of the contents. But in the dim red lighting, it didn¡¯t take an idiot to realize it was nothing good.


    ¡°It was just as Joker expected. He was able to trip the kill sequence when Adam Mason attacked. It¡¯ll have looked like a malfunction,¡± one of the men said. ¡°They¡¯ll never guess what really happened.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame we can¡¯t get the other two,¡± the other said.


    The man shook his head. ¡°Better off this way. One is going to be difficult enough as it is.¡±


    There were a few more clicks on the keyboard and suddenly one computer flashed green. One of the guys near the sphere gave a thumbs up, and they all stepped away as the sphere began to whir into motion. Even from the viewing room, I heard the distinct clang of heavy locks releasing and various hydraulics pulling back.


    The sphere clicked and buzzed and hummed as lights began flashing. Then, without warning, the door with the frosted pane of glass retracted. There was a spray of mist¡ªor perhaps steam¡ªstill obscuring what was kept inside.


    One of the men stepped into the sphere, and there was a long pause. I held my breath, not sure what monstrosity he would emerge with.


    Fucking hell man, I mean I¡¯ve the heard the stories of the blacksites. They take abnormals and stitch ¡®em together with implants, lobotomized cyborgs. Or they inject you with genetic retroviruses, trying to turn you into some mutant. Or worse, maybe you were the one in a billion abnormal that was that kind of a sheer monster.


    The man emerged from the pod carrying something. I blinked twice, trying to make it out. What was so terrifying that it needed to be hidden away by such lengths as this? What was so horrifying it was buried below the basement of the ASA regional headquarters? I held my breath as I watched the man stride forth carrying a¡­


    I blinked.


    It was a young boy. Maybe a little older than the kids the ASA had taken, but not by much. There was a sudden flash from the other two pods and a klaxon blared.


    ¡°Warning. Subject termination will commence in one minute!¡±


    ¡°Just in the nick of time,¡± one of the men muttered.


    Another man reached out to help carry the unconscious boy, and they started back for the viewing room.


    That snapped me out of it as I realized they were about to walk in here and find me spying on them. I wanted to run back down the hallway as fast as I could, but there was no way I could make the distance without them noticing and shooting me. I glanced around in a panic, looking for somewhere to hide.


    In the corner with the servers. I ducked behind them just as a door opened to the viewing room, and the men came in.


    ¡°We egress to the rendezvous point,¡± the apparent leader said. ¡°Move out.¡±


    They filed back into the passage without a further word.


    ¡°Warning. Subject termination will commence in thirty seconds!¡±


    When they left the room, I cautiously got back up. I stared at the two remaining pods, humming in the red light. If the first one contained a boy, then what did the other two contain? Children as well? I would¡¯ve risked teleporting into the pods to get them out, but my powers still didn¡¯t work. There was nothing I could do but watch in horror as the humming of machinery grew louder.


    ¡°Warning. Subject termination will commence in ten seconds!¡±


    The noise grew almost unbearably loud, and it seemed the alarms blazed louder still. Parts of the spheres were rotating in their emplacements. Tubes injected themselves into steel ports. Something hissed as there was a clunk as some piece of vague machinery finally locked into place.


    I blinked, and then it happened. There was a bright flash that burned from within the sphere, lighting up the entire room from the frosted glass. It was as if two suns had ignited within the spheres. I had to shield my eyes as whatever was contained within the spheres was eradicated down to the molecule.


    I didn¡¯t know what to feel. I knew I had witnessed some crime here, some horrible atrocity that I couldn¡¯t even comprehend. Something awful had taken place within this room, and now it was being covered up.


    Those words were all too prescient as not a minute later, hidden explosives triggered within the concrete laboratory. The glass panes exploded as I was thrown off my feet. I scrambled for footing as the machinery sparked and blew out around me. The hallway detonated as well, causing cave-ins and blocking my way out. I was trapped within falling debris and rubbles and two miniature balls of magma whose heat I could feel from even here.


    But as the world came apart, so too did that dark material which inhibited my powers. I felt something rush back into me, and my screaming instincts finally kicked in again.


    I blinked my eyes, and I was sitting on my ass in a sterile corridor up above in the ASA basement. I was on a higher floor, and it was dead quiet. It was as if nothing had ever happened at all. And if not for the dust and blood which coated me, I would¡¯ve thought it had all been a dream.


    I wanted to run away and pretend that none of this had ever happened. But I got up and breathed in deeply.


    Whatever this was, whatever I had just witnessed, it was no different from those kids who had been trapped in pits. And from how callously those men acted, it looked like they didn¡¯t have that boy¡¯s best interest in mind either. Exhaling a long breath, I knew what I had to do.


    I teleported three times. I was in a holding cell. I was in a closet. And then a blink later, I was in the middle of those six men. None of them had time to react. They couldn¡¯t get so much as a word out as I appeared and placed my hand on the unconscious boy¡¯s shoulder.


    And then we were gone.

 Chapter Twenty

    Seattle Vance


    ¡°That¡¯s the last of it,¡± Dust said as he attached the final pack of explosives on the server farm. Klaxons blared in the background, but I barely heard them. I guess I was just thinking everything through. I had thought about bolting for the flash drive immediately, of course. As soon as Adam Mason began duking it out with the Alpha Trio. It probably would¡¯ve been the smart play.


    I could¡¯ve easily forced Raven and August to go along with it and gotten out of there with everything I wanted. But then there¡¯s that little voice in the back of my head. And sometimes, every once in a while, that little voice wins out.


    I always finish the damn job.


    That¡¯s who Seattle Vance was. I squared my deal with Mr. Greene, and on top of that, I flipped Joker the proverbial middle finger. You wanted bombs in the ASA building? Well, now they¡¯re here. You sent CitySec after my guys, had me damn near killed, and I still got the fucking job done. That¡¯s the kind of guy you double-crossed, and don¡¯t you ever forget it.


    I suddenly shivered, glancing up, the cold finally setting in. Server room was freezing. Tall black boxes with buttons and wires and little lights surrounded us. I exhaled, watching the wisps of my breath disappear like smoke.


    The job was finally done. What happened next was¡­ personal.


    ¡°Raven.¡± I lifted the walkie talkie. ¡°We got a clear path to the objective?¡±


    The radio was silent for a second. ¡°I think¡ªI¡¯m not sure.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not sure?¡± I tilted my head, annoyed at the question.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking over all the footage on the twenty-fifth floor. Ghost, it¡¯s all looped. I¡¯m not sure the cameras are tied into anything. I¡¯m completely blind.¡±


    Shit.


    I glanced at Dust, who was clearly apprehensive. For him, he could technically walk out. There was nothing keeping the kid here anymore. Job done. He could go to Mr. Greene and get his payday.


    But he knew he could get ten times that if he went with me, and he had a gambling spirit¡ªI could tell. You didn¡¯t work in this business if you didn¡¯t dream of the big leagues. Hell, deep down, I think I still did too.


    I winked at him and raised my M4. ¡°Come on, kid. Let¡¯s knock some heads.¡±


    Dust nervously grinned back. It was one of those innocent smiles that just killed you on the inside because you couldn¡¯t smile like that back. He kicked aside the empty duffle back and locked and loaded his pistol. Heading through the door, I followed him behind, but as we went down the hall, I raised my radio and spoke to Raven under my breath.


    ¡°Send August down, we¡¯re going to need backup.¡±


    ¡­


    We took a risk with the elevators. Despite the chaos outside, I didn¡¯t want to waste time on the stairs. But I tell ya, every bump and loud noise in the elevator car made my heart skip in my chest. I won¡¯t lie to you. I was cussing up and down in my head, thinking how much of stupid idiot I would be if the lift malfunctioned or lost power.


    Seattle Vance, best damn merc in the Democratic Union¡­ gets caught because he was too lazy to take the stairs. There was a joke that wrote itself if there ever was one.


    But the elevator went up, and the doors opened. We stepped out into a dark office hallway, something I was quickly growing tired of. I raised my M4, and I cleared the hall. Everything was silent¡ªand not in a good way. The klaxons weren¡¯t blaring on this level. Could barely hear the patter of the rain too. Dust came up behind me with a pistol, watching my back.


    There was another distant explosion from outside. I admit, part of me wanted to go to the windows and check on the fight between Adam Mason and the Alpha Trio. Nevermind the mission, hell, a part of me wanted to see superhobo beat down the Democratic Union¡¯s costumed men in tights. But all I would be doing is wasting time on a ticking clock, and there was nothing that I could afford to get in my way now.


    ¡°We¡¯re on the floor.¡± I radioed Raven.


    ¡°August needs another minute, wait just a¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, if there¡¯s a trap, it¡¯s best we space it out. No need for us to get caught all at once.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up and listen to me. We¡¯ll radio back every five minutes. If you don¡¯t hear from us, assume the worst.¡± I clicked off my radio to keep it from making more noise. The plan was to have Raven guide us along the path, watching out for hazards and all that. But I didn¡¯t need her. I had memorized the layout of the entire building. I knew this place better than the back of my own hand.


    Keeping Dust behind me, we went down the hall. I quickly cleared rooms as we passed, making sure there weren¡¯t any hidden surprises. Of course, if there were any of the super variety, we probably weren¡¯t going to see them coming anyway. I suppose it was a kind of cope on my part. I wanted to feel like I was in control, like what I did mattered. But the fact was, the world wouldn¡¯t give two shits about how careful I was. When it hit, it would hit hard, and everything would fall like a house of cards.


    It always did.


    My frustration grew with each passing room, each more annoyingly quiet than the last. This whole job¡ªit was like the ASA had abandoned the building before we even got here. There should¡¯ve been hundreds more people than we had seen.


    So what was up?


    It just smelled so wrong, and still, I kept walking. I cleared room after room, turning corner after corner, knowing that if I rushed now, I would just make a mistake I would regret. Even as I was cussing my head out, I kept my eyes down the sight of my gun, and Dust right behind me. I had seen so many friends who couldn¡¯t take the stress of knowingly walking to your own death. As they were hunted by freaks with laser eyes and super speed, they panicked and yelled and rushed out into the open, only for the predictable to happen.


    I suppose that was why I survived while they didn¡¯t. It¡¯s not that I was calm¡ªI was practically shitting my pants. it was that I wanted the kill before they took me down with them. I wanted my life to mean something, even if it was one final fuck you. So the adrenaline and the spray and pray would have to wait.


    And that gave me time to figure out precisely what felt wrong. As I rounded a corner, it clicked in my head. The layout of the twenty-fifth floor was not matching the blueprints I had been given by Joker. There were offices and conference rooms where there shouldn¡¯t be, and where they should be, there weren¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t all off. It vaguely aligned with the map I memorized, but it was all just slightly¡­ wrong. One hallway had four doors where there should¡¯ve been six. I passed by a lounge that should¡¯ve been a restroom.


    It never looked too unfamiliar to lose my way, and yet, it made my gut churn. Back before the raid on my hideout, when we were still working together, had Joker given me bad schematics on accident? Had there been a renovation of the building that I was unaware of? Was this another mystery surprise on floor twenty-five? I shook my head at these possibilities. There was no way to tell, but after Joker succeed CitySec on me, something in my gut wanted to blame him.


    So what the fuck was this? Before he betrayed me, he sent me bad schematics? Why?


    I spotted the door. It was a normal looking closet in the middle of a hallway. Nothing looked suspicious about it all. We approached quietly, doing our best to keep our shoes from making clacking noises on the tile floor. I kept my gun trained on the ends of the corridor, swinging it fromdirection to direction while Dust took cover behind me.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got the lock,¡± he said as he stuck his hand into the doorknob. His fingers phased through the metal, and he fumbled around, trying to feel the outline of the mechanism.


    I barely heard him, still distracted by the layout of this place. Glancing down, I tried to get everything sorted straight in my head. We were at the left-hand side of a T-intersection. Along the wall should¡¯ve been four offices and the door for the closet. I looked down the hallway and counted three. One that was supposed to be next to the closet was absent, an empty spot of wall where it was supposed to be.


    I counted again. One. Two. Three. The numbers didn¡¯t add up with the layout. There was space on the other side of that wall which was missing.


    ¡°Aha.¡± Dust grinned as he phased out a jumble of mechanical components. He eagerly reached to open the door, but my hand snapped on his arm, preventing him from doing so. He looked at me, concerned.


    ¡°Hold on for a minute,¡± I told him as I reached for the walkie talkie and clicked it on. ¡°August, where are you?¡±


    I heard his cocksure voice on the other end. ¡°Just reached your floor. Layout is a bit weird. I¡¯ll¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stay right where you are. You hear gunfire, you come running. Understand?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± The radio crackled.


    ¡°In the meantime, I want you to cover the stairs. I¡¯m sure as shit not getting boxed in.¡± I clicked the radio off before he had a chance to reply.


    Raising the M4, I double-checked to make sure the safety was off. ¡°Dust, I want you to get on the other side of this door. You¡¯re going to reach over and open it, and I¡¯m going to clear whatever is on the other side of this thing. Got it?¡±


    ¡°What do you think is on the other side?¡± he asked, confused.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem, kid. I have no fucking clue.¡±


    Dust grimly nodded and took his position on the other side, holding his hand out on the doorknob. I took cover on the wall and nodded.


    The young kid pulled the door open as hard as he could, and I sprung forward with my weapon pointed down into the closet.


    I was right, and I hated that I was right. Instead of a small space like I was promised, there was a corridor lined with blacker than black material. I knew what it was immediately. Refined Zurchon. Fuck.


    To make matters worse, I saw another door of reinforced glass leading into a small server room that presumably contained the flash drive. Dust wouldn¡¯t be able to use his abilities, and I doubted my weapon had enough firepower to bust through. I walked down and banged my fist on the glass.


    All right. So this was a setback. But it wasn¡¯t the end. Not by a long shot. I needed to regroup with Raven and come up with a different strategy. This was workable. We just needed to put our heads together and¡ª


    ¡°Uh¡­ Ghost?¡± Dust spoke shakily.


    I turned back to the boy only to discover a man holding him hostage, with a pistol aimed squarely at the boy¡¯s head.


    I blinked. How did that happen so fast? Well, as I saw the uniform, I got my answer.


    He had a black and blue combat uniform, the kind they didn¡¯t show you in movies. He wore a kevlar vest full of pouches with magazines, grenades, and everything else you could think of. I couldn¡¯t see his face. He had a helmet with what looked like thermal goggles, to catch invisibles and the like.


    Knight Squad. My former comrades in arms¡ªnot that I personally knew these particular guys.


    ¡°Why the fuck are you here? This wasn¡¯t part of the job,¡± the soldier said.


    Job? What job? I was so thrown off that it took me a second to realize I had raised my weapon. It took me another moment to come up with something to say.


    This was weird, but honestly, it didn¡¯t matter who they thought I was or what I was here to do. I was here to get the flash drive. Nothing else mattered.


    ¡°Let the kid go and back off.¡±


    I grinned manically, trying to keep in control, but just as I did, the door to the server room opened behind me. Time slowed down, and I knew I would hear a pair of boots stepping out. I was outflanked and outgunned. And in that split second before I had a gun to my back, I had a choice to make.


    I had two contingencies, technically three. I could shoot my gun and alert August to our situation. If I killed the guy holding Dust hostage, even better. I could turn around and fire on the other guy behind me. I had no idea how many soldiers were here, but if I holed up in the server room and waited for August¡­ maybe it could work. But I didn¡¯t have a clean shot, and I wasn¡¯t about to risk missing. So¡­ that meant Dust was now a liability.


    Option two. I could wait it out and prayed Raven thought of something. She could contact August and do a plan or something. They¡¯re probably going to want to take us prisoner, which means we have time. But time for them to do¡­ what? Door number two relied on them not cutting and running, which are not odds I liked.


    Downsides of working with strangers I suppose.


    That left door number three and wait for the opportune moment to spring the trap I hid inside Dust. Not the worst plan, but I knew it wouldn¡¯t be enough.


    All these options and schemes flashed through my eyes at once. I knew I had to make a choice in an instant. One nanosecond later and then it would be made for me.


    I blinked.


    Heh. So that¡¯s how it is¡­ I raised my weapon, aiming directly for Dust¡¯s chest. The bullet would pass right through and hit the guy behind him.


    Sorry, kid. I truly am.


    But as my finger pressed on the trigger, I saw Dust¡¯s panicked face.


    Bang!


    ¡­


    I gasped as I spat out blood. Getting punched in the face wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s idea of a good time¡ªleast of all mine. The guy who had been holding Dust hostage had handcuffed me to a chair in one of the nearby offices where he could interrogate me. I knew evac would be on its way as soon as Mason was put down, and then I knew I would be shuffled off to some hellhole where interrogation could commence in earnest.


    But until then, Knight Squads weren¡¯t ones to waste time.


    ¡°Who are you really working for?¡± The man asked, cracking his knuckles. They were coated with a crystal substance which also streaked along with his neck and face. It was like the man could call upon his skin to harden. At least, that¡¯s what I assumed it did. This wasn¡¯t the first time I wished abnormals came with an instruction manual.


    In a blurred haze, I sized him up. The soldier was in his forties. Bald and with a square-jawed face that was many times scarred over, he was a professional through and through. His hands looked like diamonds, and he made sure my face was intimate with them. I knew from the look in his eyes that he was merciless. The perfect soldier for the Knight Squads.


    How many did I see out in the hallway? Nine? No, ten? It was so hard to concentrate, especially after the other guy had slammed his gun into the back of my head.


    ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡± I groaned, praying for August to make his appearance.


    I had been counting the minutes. He should¡¯ve shown up by now. That was the worrying thing. One squad was bad enough, but there were doubtlessly others. Did August get intercepted before he even had a chance to get up here? And even if he didn¡¯t, would it matter? I had no idea what these guys¡¯ superpowers were. They were class twos, surely. But that told me fuck all except they would have an easy time squaring up against the likes of us.


    Did Raven and August cut and run?


    ¡°Who are you working for!?¡± The soldier punched me again so hard my chair nearly toppled over. I couldn¡¯t be sure, but I think I lost a tooth.


    My vision went swimming, and the next thing I saw, the soldier had raised a crystal talon that grew out of his finger. ¡°I don¡¯t have to deliver you in one piece. You know that, right? You have ten seconds, or I start cutting.¡±


    ¡°Who¡­ told you about us?¡± I asked him, hoping to stall for time. ¡°How did you know there was a job? Because¡­ Because I¡¯m starting to think whoever fucked with you might be the same person.¡± My head rolled as I tried to keep my thoughts straight.


    The soldier looked at me quietly, and I knew he didn¡¯t have an answer. I knew because I knew how the Knight Squads worked.


    ASA was about as compartmentalized as the Index. Could you imagine if the faces and the names of the people who ran this hellhole were leaked to the public? Suddenly you have to worry about every abnormal who¡¯s still out there and pissed off that you stole their children. So as it happened, much of the higher administration was incognito. Messages and orders were sent via encrypted channels, especially for a clandestine group like the Knight Squads.


    I think the soldier¡¯s punches might¡¯ve been helping a bit¡ªgetting blood flowing in my head again. Or maybe I was more fucked up than I realized. But I started putting a few pieces together, and something downright frustrating began to take shape in my head.


    I spat out another glob of blood. ¡°What were you told? An attack on the regional headquarters? A frame job? We planned to pin the blame on CitySec, but the thought occurs that you might want that too. CitySec, abnormal supremacists¡ªany excuse to wage a private war on City 57. Is that the story you had? So you evacuated the building beforehand, secured the flash drive, and waited for us to wreck the building¡¯s shit?¡±


    From the expression on the soldier¡¯s face, I knew I was dead on, and I knew there were only two people in the entire world who could¡¯ve fed him that info. While I didn¡¯t trust Mr. Greene as far as I could throw him, I knew for a fact that the Index didn¡¯t have connections that went that far. So, that left only one individual who both knew of my plan and the resources to pull something like this off.


    Joker. That motherfucker.


    He was somehow behind this, manipulating everything. I didn''t know for what purpose or plan, but I swore I was going to kill that man, and I don¡¯t know whether or not I said that out loud. My head was still swimming.


    The soldier got impatient and cocked his fist for another punch, but I cried out before he could strike. ¡°Wait!¡±


    He stopped. ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve both been sold up shit creek,¡± I said, still panting heavily. ¡°I worked with this guy. Don¡¯t know his name. Don¡¯t know his face. Secretive, you know? Went by the alias of Joker. I can¡¯t even tell you his real voice. All I know is that he works for the Checkered Hand.¡±


    I could tell that name meant absolutely nothing to the man.


    ¡°And Daniel Peterson?¡± the soldier asked.


    ¡°What about Daniel Peterson?¡± I wanted to keep the conversation on things I knew about¡ªmostly because I didn¡¯t want to get punched again.


    The guy looked at me as if I was stupid. ¡°How did you manage to get Daniel Peterson to defect from The Urban Defenders? Where is he now!?¡±


    I looked at him as if he suddenly lost twenty IQ points. ¡°I have no fucking idea.¡±


    The soldier punched me in the gut, and I doubled over in pain. It was really rich getting beat up for something I didn¡¯t even do. Honestly, it was fucking frustrating trying to figure out what my interrogator thought was happening so I could properly answer his damn questions.


    ¡°Ask him¡­ yourself,¡± I panted. ¡°The plan was Mason, only he somehow convinced Peterson to go with him. It¡¯s not my fault you can¡¯t keep track of your guys.¡±


    ¡°You really expect me to believe that?¡±


    I looked him in the eye. ¡°You really think I would be sitting in this chair if I had a teleporter working for me?¡±


    That managed to get soldier man to shut up for a bit.


    Before he could ask any more questions, his radio clicked. ¡°Alpha Trio is down. Lance Bain is dead. Squads two through four move to contingency plan.¡±


    For the first time, I saw a look of visible concern cross the soldier¡¯s face.


    ¡°Looks like my guy was tougher than yours,¡± I laughed¡ªit hurt to laugh.


    But seriously, I never really considered the possibility that Adam Mason would walk out of here. But hey, maybe he was just that absurdly strong. Maybe he could take all the punishment the Democratic Union could throw at him and then some. Maybe¡­ just maybe¡­ he was the ultra superhobo.


    I spat out more blood as I laughed.


    Before the soldier could hit me again, there was shouting and then screams from the hallway. I wish I could¡¯ve jumped him while he was distracted, but my hands were zip-tied to the chair, and I was doing everything in my power to keep from drifting off to dreamland. The soldier opened the door and looked out. Quickly closing it behind him, I was left both figuratively and literally in the dark. All I could hear was a sudden rush of muffled noises outside.


    ¡°Contact! Contact!¡±


    ¡°Jansen and Reynolds are down!¡±


    ¡°¡ªwhat the hell? ¡ªis this guy!?¡±


    ¡°Backup! We need¡ª right now!¡±


    I was sitting there absolutely confused. There was no way August was dishing out this punishment. Was he? Had I just underestimated him? I heard the sounds of men screaming and dying out there, and trapped within the room, I didn¡¯t have the faintest clue what was going on outside.


    Gritting my teeth, I struggled against the zip ties. All I knew was that I wanted to be free of this chair by the time whatever was chewing through those men were done. The gunfire was slowly losing its intensity. I didn¡¯t know whether that meant the soldiers were winning or losing.


    I heaved against the restraints, but all it did was topple me over onto the floor. I slammed face-first on the tile, and I looked up as I saw a bloodied Knight Squad soldier run into the room. He crouched and emptied his rifle out into the hallway before reloading.


    I noticed blood was trickling from his ears and nose. He didn¡¯t look to be well, and he looked disoriented. I don¡¯t know. Maybe that was rich coming from me.


    A bulking man in a black uniform stepped into the doorway. His clothes were tattered with burns and bullet holes and even frosted ice. I saw a lot of blood on him, but I couldn¡¯t see any wounds. He wore a black helmet with a visor that completely obscured his face, and he carried a long rifle that made my heart freeze in my chest.


    I mouthed the words. ¡°Oh shi¡ª¡±


    Boom.


    My world was suddenly sent spinning as I was caught on the edge of the blast. So much was a blur, but I saw the colors and shapes of what was going on. Where the soldier once stood, the floor and wall cracked and compressed like it was hit with an invisible shockwave. My ears were ringing just from being in the same room as the directed blast.


    But where I was expecting the Knight Squad soldier to be exploded into blood, he was suddenly on the other side of the bulking man in black. I couldn¡¯t tell for sure, but I think he had moved really fast.


    The soldier lunged at guy in the strange, black uniform. His arms were like lightning, hitting the newcomer¡¯s torso and head at least a hundred times in a few seconds. As I regained my senses, I saw the soldier shove his arm into black uniform¡¯s chest. With great difficulty, he pulled out something red and beating.


    But the other guy didn¡¯t die. The newcomer in the black uniform grabbed the soldier by the neck and placed the sonic cannon right under his head. I saw the ceiling was painted red, and the man in the black uniform dropped a headless body to the ground.


    I groaned and tried to get up, but I couldn¡¯t. I was helpless as this new guy slowly walked up to me and placed the same sonic cannon on my head.


    ¡°Joker sends his regards. Now where the fuck is Daniel Peterson?¡±

 Chapter Twenty One

    Adam Mason


    I struck off Cosmic Warrior¡¯s head with a chop of my arm. The two of us fell onto the wet asphalt, grasping one another. His fingers relaxed, and I panted exhausted as I let go of the man¡¯s corpse. The rain fell like many tiny hammers upon me.


    The fight had not been long, but it had taken so much out of me. To be honest, I was surprised I had made it this far. I had leapt at Iron Shield first only for Cosmic Warrior to fling me to the ground with ten times Earth¡¯s gravity. For any other man, it would¡¯ve been instant death. A normal guy¡¯s bones would¡¯ve snapped, and his flesh would¡¯ve turned to paste.


    But instead, I stood up and looked my enemy right in the eye. Pushing myself off, I left a much deeper impact crater and went for Iron Shield again. He wasn¡¯t the main threat. In fact, he was the weakest among them. But I didn¡¯t want to fight the Alpha Trio. I didn¡¯t want any of this. I wanted to end this battle as quickly as I could. I held the iron man in my grasp, ready to let him go if the others only stood down.


    They didn¡¯t.


    I ran my arm through Iron Shield¡¯s chest, and I ripped out his iron heart. Dropping him on the ground, I didn¡¯t fly away or try to dodge their next attack. I was still hoping that they might second guess themselves, that they might give up. Anyone with sense would¡¯ve surrendered. Anyone with sense would¡¯ve stood down.


    But instead, Lance Bain blasted me with a torrent of fire. I was enveloped with heat that should¡¯ve disintegrated a normal man. You don¡¯t really understand temperature until you¡¯ve been put inside a fireplace¡ªor maybe a furnace. Until then, you can only grasp the idea of pain. It¡¯s never really real until you experience it.


    Not to say I experienced it, but what I understood at that moment was the sheer desperation with which Lance Bain had been trying to kill me. I felt it with the sting upon my skin, the same kind of wince one might feel with alcohol on a wound.


    I rose out of the flame¡ªonce again naked¡ªbut no less impaired. I was really annoyed how my clothes couldn¡¯t keep up with my powers. That¡¯s the side of superheroes they don¡¯t like to tell: how many times you have to fight utterly naked. I guess the media was embarrassed by it. I couldn¡¯t blame them, but it still felt dishonest. There¡¯s an odd penchant to pretend mere fabric could contend with the superhuman.


    We took to the sky. Cosmic Warrior bent gravity and space to his will. I was slammed into buildings and down to the ground and back up into the sky again and again. I tried flying towards him to snap his neck, but each time he teleported away. It wasn¡¯t like Daniel teleportation. It seemed to take great effort on his part.


    Each time he whisked himself away, I saw sweat grow on him. He was panting heavily. And in between the blasts of flame that Lance tried to scorch me with, I saw weakness growing in the purple warrior of the Alpha Trio. As we danced our violent tango in the sky, I knew Cosmic Warrior couldn¡¯t keep up. And while I had more than a grudge to settle with Lance Bain trying to burn me alive, Cosmic Warrior turned out to be the more annoying thorn in my side.


    He raised his arms as I flew towards him, trying to teleport away again. But this time I made a feint. As light contorted to carry him somewhere else, I had already predicted his destination. With a force that defied physics, I suddenly flew myself perpendicular to my previous trajectory, appearing just in front of where Cosmic Warrior appeared.


    He only had a second to gasp before I took hold of his neck and decapitated him. Blood coated my arms, and I hoped it was the last blood I had to spill this day.


    I landed on the street, hoping against hope that it was over. Lance Bain, ultimate pyromancer that he was, landed just a few dozen feet away. Jets of flame flickered under his hands as he took stock of me once again.


    ¡°Just walk away, man,¡± I told him, more tired than anything else.


    I didn¡¯t want to kill anyone. I never ever wanted to kill anyone. I just wanted to be left alone and given a few months to live my life. But for some reason, the world just wouldn¡¯t let that be in the cards. It wasn¡¯t fair that I had to kill these two already. But here I was. And there he stood.


    ¡°You know I can¡¯t do that,¡± Lance replied as he paced in the downpour of rain. ¡°Don¡¯t have a choice.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s wrong,¡± I told him. ¡°You always had a choice. Every day, every minute, every second of your life, you had a choice. And today, you made the one that got your buddies killed. So walk away now before I kill you too.¡±


    I didn¡¯t say it with any malice in my heart. It was just the cold, hard truth. Lance Bain looked over to the corpses of his teammates. I didn¡¯t know how close he was to them, but I could see the grief on his face.


    Coming here, I didn¡¯t intend to be a murderer. And strangely enough, I felt sorry for the man who had just tried to kill me. At that moment, I would¡¯ve done anything to make him walk away. It was funny. I had all the power in the world, and yet the one thing I wanted¡ªto spare this man¡¯s life¡ªwas out of my control.


    Maybe I could break his legs. Maybe I could break every bone in his body. But I couldn¡¯t break his desire to kill me. And while I could try to take this slowly, more reinforcements would be arriving. I didn¡¯t have the time to make this a test of wills.


    I was never much of a religious man. I don¡¯t think I ever liked the idea of God. Not that I ever had a good reason to. I¡¯m a spiteful guy, and I¡¯ll own up to that. But at that moment, given my power, I could only imagine then what he must feel. All the power in the world, and all you desperately want to do is let the other guy off the hook. I would¡¯ve done anything¡ªsaid anything¡ªto make him stop.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    But in the end, it was all up on him to make that choice.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to take orders from the Democratic Union. Listen man, take it from me. It sucks, but it¡¯s better on this side of the line. You really want to live the rest of your life like this?¡±


    Lance Bain looked at me. I could see him weighing the decision in his head. No doubt part of that was that he knew I could and would kill him. But that¡¯s the thing with people. They don¡¯t think they can die, not really. They always think they¡¯re somehow going to get out of it, especially people who¡¯ve lived on a silver platter their entire lives. Lance Bain saw I was weak and tired and that my heart wasn¡¯t in it.


    I could see it in his eyes that he thought he had a chance of beating me. And then he could go back to a hero¡¯s welcome¡ªback to all the comforts of his old life. And that was the only calculation in his head, really. He wanted the Supe¡¯s life more than anything, and even though he didn¡¯t know it then, today he was going to die for it.


    I saw him make his choice.


    ¡°You son of a bitch,¡± I groaned as I muttered under my breath.


    Lance raised his hands, but I was faster. My hands were grasping his head, and before he had a moment to cry out, I snapped his neck.


    I caught his body and gently laid it on the ground. I wish I had a spot to bury him, but a city street wasn¡¯t exactly the best place for a grave. Instead, all I could do for him was place his arms over his chest and make him look dignified.


    Stepping from the body, I once again had time to take in my surroundings. It was still pouring rain. The damage of the fight was mostly contained in the street and the surrounding buildings. Huge chunks and gashes and scorch marks littered the area, but it wasn¡¯t too bad, all things considered. This place never looked great to begin with.


    I noticed a lot more activity in the buildings than earlier. There were the usual people streaming on their phones, but I noticed the weird static again. They were much closer now, watching in the windows instead of hidden deep away in the buildings. I could make out features¡ªguys in black and blue military uniforms.


    They were in pockets of three and four all around me. And it looked like they were setting some tube-like contraptions near the windows. They were very large, requiring trick-pods to be set into the floor. They looked unwieldy, and I didn¡¯t know really what they were trying to do.


    Looking directly at one, I called out to the soldiers. ¡°Hey! You know you tried killing me with missiles, right!? I don¡¯t think¡ª¡±


    It wasn¡¯t so much that I registered an impact so much as my entire senses just became pain. It was bad, unbearably so. I think I screamed, but I don¡¯t know. I think I fell down, but I couldn¡¯t be sure. Everything was just suffering, agonizing noise.


    The pain died down a little for a second.


    And then it flared up just as bad as it was before. I didn¡¯t realize such torture was possible, even before I had superpowers. If I had been playing God a few seconds ago, then this was my crucifixion. Blood poured out of my nose and ears, and I think my skin broke into open wounds.


    It became a cycle. The pain lessened for a second, then renewed with more and more intensity. I was dying and dying slowly.


    It was the kind of pain where the mere effort of doing anything seemed impossible. You just wanted to lie down and take it until you were dead. Mere existence seemed too much to bear, and I craved oblivion.


    But there was also a part of me that was laughing.


    You have to understand. I had begun to fear that I would never feel anything ever again. The pain was a reminder that I was alive, and I was still human. And the really funny thing was, after several minutes of suffering incarnate, I got used to it.


    I can only imagine what those military guys must¡¯ve felt when they saw me get up to one knee. The bloodied wreck of a man that I was, I can only imagine what I looked like. Through hazy red vision, I grinned at them.


    They really did pick the wrong fight.


    I put all my force behind what I did next. And I¡¯m not talking about halfway or three quarters or any of that bullshit. I mean, I put all of my strength behind it. I couldn¡¯t help myself. I didn¡¯t have the control to do otherwise. It seemed I finally got my wish of seeing my limits, but the trouble was I didn¡¯t ¡°see¡± much of it.


    Through the static noise, I was vaguely aware of a huge explosion of force. Then all I saw was building, and I think more blood, though it was really hard to tell. I saw air and then building then air and then a little more building. None of it hurt. At least, I don¡¯t think it did so any more than the incredible pain I was already in.


    I was vaguely aware that I landed. And for a long time, longer than even I understood, I was stuck in this delirium of half-consciousness and more pain. But unlike before, I was slowly getting back to my senses. Strength would¡¯ve been the wrong word. I knew I had been hurt bad, really bad. It was all I could just to stay conscious.


    As I looked up into the dark sky, I saw a flash of lightning. I weakly lifted myself up in the air¡ªI didn¡¯t have the strength to move my body. I tilted myself vertically, and it still took several minutes to comprehend what I saw.


    It was like someone had taken a huge gash to the city. Buildings were sagging, half collapsed, or outright reduced to unrecognizable rubble. The damage extended at least a mile, where it looked like someone had bombed out a portion of City 57.


    It took me a few more moments to realize what that meant.


    ¡°Shit.¡± I groaned as I realized just how many people I probably killed.


    I¡¯m not going to lie. It broke my heart that I had just caused a lot more pain and suffering to others than I ever intended. Just looking at the absolute devastation made me suddenly wonder if the Democratic Union had it right on superpowers. If one person could cause all this¡­


    But in the grand scheme of things, they were the ones who picked this fight. I may not have been a good guy, but they certainly weren¡¯t either. And if there was the blood of a city on my hands, then there was also the blood of a nation on theirs.


    I flew¡ªfloated¡ªback to see if I could save anyone. Going back to the ASA headquarters, I saw the street was an unrecognizable crater, and the building I hit was just rubble. The surrounding buildings had heavy damage and most had outright collapsed. The ASA headquarters took serious damage itself, many of its offices and hallways were exposed to the open air. But thankfully, it was still standing.


    With my improved senses, I detected someone buried underneath several feet of rubble. I set myself down next to it, and I struggled as I began lifting rocks. It took several awful minutes, but I finally lifted a piece of concrete, and I saw it was one of the black and blue guys. He had protected himself with a force field, and he looked terrified when he saw bloody me standing over him.


    I offered him a hand. ¡°Up on your feet, soldier. I don¡¯t want to kill you.¡±


    He pushed himself up and began running away as fast as he could. I was left standing there alone in the desolation and ruin. I looked tiredly as the soldier ran out of sight. Sighing, I just let myself stand in that awful rain. At least one man today had the good sense to run.


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of damage! Do you think you got it all out of your system!?¡±


    I turned, and I saw up above Seattle Vance standing on a floor of the ASA building. And behind him, I saw a man in a strange uniform holding a big ass gun to his back.

 Chapter Twenty Two

    Daniel Peterson


    I cradled the strange kid in my arms as I sat in an office room. We were at the top floor of the ASA regional headquarters. It wasn¡¯t the safest place to be, but everywhere looked worse.


    I had been camping in one of the nearby buildings, trying to figure out what to do, when I heard an explosion, and the entire world turned into flying rubble. I let my instincts take over, and I was teleporting so fast that I couldn¡¯t even keep up with it. Then a blink later, I was near the roof of the ASA watching the rest of the city collapse around me.


    There was a huge dust cloud, and the noise of everything falling apart hurt my ears. I could only look in horror at the devastation. I could never really picture a nuclear bomb going off, but I guess this was close enough. I waited for the rumbling to stop, and after things settled, I was alone with the kid in the dark office floor.


    The kid wasn¡¯t in good shape. I knew that much, at least. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit, not unlike what prisoners would wear. Except instead of a muscular tattooed criminal, this kid seemed to be one hamburger short of dropping dead. But even that didn¡¯t concern me as much as the bizarre implants that were fastened along his body.


    I didn¡¯t know how much cybernetic technology had advanced in the Democratic Union, and I didn¡¯t really want to know. But this kid was something else. There were what I presumed to be feeding tubes all over his stomach. And there were deep metal sockets in his arms and the back of his shaved head.


    He was alive and breathing, but how much more than that was anyone¡¯s guess. And I had no clue what made this pasty kid so special that he had been locked up in some sort of ultra secret laboratory.


    And then again, maybe I didn¡¯t want to know.


    The class system went one through five. Though it would be astronomically rare, I suppose there could also be class sixes and above. There wasn¡¯t anything that theoretically stopped it, at least not that I knew of. It was possible¡ªthough extremely unlikely¡ªthere could be a person born out there who could destroy a country or maybe even the whole planet if he wanted to.


    Maybe the kid I held in my arms was a monster who could somehow destroy the whole world. Maybe the best bet was to find a gun and put a bullet in his brain for everyone else¡¯s safety. I won¡¯t lie. I thought about it. It was one of those gruesome thoughts that wriggled into your head because it felt like a sin to even think them.


    But as I looked down at this kid, I couldn¡¯t see anything other than a ten-year-old. Maybe I was holding the destroyer of the world in my arms. Maybe I wasn¡¯t. And if this kid was that dangerous, did the world really deserve to be saved? The second option was that I let this kid go loose, and if he burned the Democratic Union to the ground, wasn¡¯t that a good thing?


    This country was sick and rotten, and the world was probably even more so. I didn¡¯t know why I was so scared for it. Maybe because even if we burnt it all down, the world wouldn¡¯t get the do-over we all wanted. If there¡¯s anything that living in the Democratic Union taught me, it¡¯s that the end of the world is usually the start of a worse one.


    And then there was the third possibility. If the kid really was that dangerous, how did he get caught in the first place? Did he get caught? How did I know this wasn¡¯t some clone or test-tube baby? Maybe he was some other third thing. Something that wouldn¡¯t change the world at all.


    There was so much I didn¡¯t know, and so much was riding on a decision I was the least qualified to make.


    A minute passed, and no convenient answers appeared.


    I finally sighed, letting the tension out of me. Fuck it. I wasn¡¯t a child killer. Or at the least, I didn¡¯t have the right to make that call. And as I realized, I didn¡¯t believe in saving the world anyway. That is what every fucking person has told me all my life, but it¡¯s not true. You don¡¯t ¡°save¡± the world. The world just moves on, with or without you. And more often than not, it¡¯s you who needs to be saved from the world. From wasting your life on all the bullshit.


    I¡¯ve done awful, horrible things for the millions of people in the Democratic Union. And I made the best decision in my entire life for the sake of one guy.


    Funny how that so often works.


    So I stayed hidden, keeping a lookout for Adam Mason. I hoped he wasn¡¯t dead. I wanted to tell him that I did what he asked. I got everyone out. And no matter what happened, what we did here wasn¡¯t all in vain.


    We did it. We actually fucking did it.


    I exhaled, letting the realization wash over me. We won. We actually won. Even if the ASA and CitySec and all the rest came marching in at this instant, it wouldn¡¯t undo the damage. We had made our stand here, and now it was over.


    I waited in darkness for a while¡ªwaiting for a sign I guess. Every passing second just felt surreal. I didn¡¯t know how to process everything that had happened, didn¡¯t know what to do. I was just in a daze, not the least because I was nearing my teleporting limit. Even as I wanted to pump my arms in the air, I had to fight waves of nausea and dizziness. I think I had a bad nose bleed, but I was so covered in blood and so exhausted that I couldn¡¯t tell.


    My heart rose in my chest when I finally noticed a flying speck in the damaged city scape. I squinted my eyes, and I knew it was Mason. But damned if he didn¡¯t look bad. He was covered in more blood and debris and ash than I was¡ªand that was saying something. He seemed in one piece, but he was battered, and he looked like he had gone through hell and back. From the top floor, I saw the tiny speck of Adam touch down on the concrete and he began digging.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I hesitated to teleport over. I didn¡¯t want to put the kid in the crosshairs of whoever else was coming, but I was also afraid to leave him alone. Too much was quiet now. Too much was still. I guess I was just holding my breath for the next bad thing to happen, and then I got it. I don¡¯t know whether I jinxed myself or not, but I heard the whisper of a voice of Seattle Vance shouting down below.


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of damage! Do you think you got it all out of your system!?¡±


    I could barely hear it. I knew if I wanted to eavesdrop on the conversation, I would have to go many floors down. It was a risk, but I needed to know what was going on. I held the kid tight as I teleported to a better spot in the shadows that overlooked the whole scene.


    Closer up, Adam Mason looked no better standing in the rubble. But he was alive, I guess. So there was that.


    ¡°I really like your fashion choice! It¡¯s very minimalist!¡± Seattle shouted.


    ¡°Just stop with the bullshit! Where¡¯s my serum you promised!?¡± Adam yelled back. ¡°I did exactly what you wanted me to!¡±


    ¡°I would love to give it to you, but I ran into some trouble! Where¡¯s your friend, Daniel Peterson!?¡±


    ¡°I have no fucking idea!¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Seattle hesitated. ¡°Can you place a call!?¡±


    Adam looked down where his clothes should¡¯ve been, and the question answered itself. Then I heard a voice I didn¡¯t recognize.


    ¡°Enough! Either Peterson appears, or I blow Vance¡¯s head off!¡±


    I strained my eyes, and behind Vance, I saw the same man in the black uniform from earlier. He was holding the sonic cannon to Seattle¡¯s back. I gripped the kid more tightly as I realized this was the result of my fucking around. Whoever this guy was, I had thrown a wrench in his plan, and now he was gunning for Mason. I could only hope Adam was up for round two¡ªor three. I had lost track of many beatings the man had been through.


    Adam was quiet for a moment, and then he shrugged his shoulders, confused. ¡°Okay!? I don¡¯t really know him!?¡±


    There was an awkward moment of silence. I stifled a laugh as I saw Seattle panic and cry out before he got shot. Yeah, now who was being fucked with.


    ¡°Wait! Wait!¡± Seattle waved his arms.¡°I die, and you don¡¯t get your serum. All of this will have been for nothing! Use your super senses to find your friend!¡±


    Adam spat on the rubble. ¡°Serum now, or I don¡¯t do shit! And none of us will get what we want!¡±


    To tell the truth, I was perfectly fine letting this play out. I didn¡¯t give a damn about Vance, and it looked like Adam had the situation under control. That was, until the man in the black uniform jumped off the side of the building and fell at least fifty feet to the ground.


    He landed unfazed and walked right up to Mason. He grabbed him and put the sonic cannon to his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m tired of this. Daniel Peterson! I assume you¡¯re watching right now! Come out with the kid, or your friend dies!¡±


    I chuckled quietly at the absurdity, but it became far less funny when Adam couldn¡¯t break the guy¡¯s grip. My eyes widened as I realized Adam had finally been pushed to his limit, and now it was do or die.


    ¡°You have until the count of three!¡± The guy in the black uniform yelled. ¡°One!¡±


    I was down there faster than you could blink, but I left the kid behind. I wasn¡¯t just about to hand him over.


    I raised my hands in surrender. ¡°All right, let¡¯s talk.¡±


    Standing face to face in the strewn rubble, I wish I could¡¯ve seen what the other guy was thinking. He wore a black mask with a visor. I didn¡¯t know anything about what I was dealing with except that this guy was bad news.


    Lightning crackled. The rain was pattering around us, but the storm seemed to be weakening. Even so, the raindrops fell upon my head like tiny weights. I was tired, I was so very tired. I just wanted to drop dead.


    ¡°Hand the kid over!¡± The guy in the black uniform ordered. ¡°Hand him over, and I let you two live!¡±


    I thought about teleporting to Mason and grabbing him away, but black uniform¡¯s finger was pressed against the trigger. It would only take a twitch, and with Adam looking as he did, I just didn¡¯t know if he could take it. He might¡¯ve been in one piece, but he was absolutely drenched in blood. His eyes looked like someone had tried to claw them out. There were gashes along his body like his flesh itself had been burst open.


    He looked like he was on death¡¯s door already, and I didn¡¯t want to risk it.


    ¡°One!¡± The guy in the black uniform shouted again.


    ¡°Don¡¯t give him what he wants!¡± Adam struggled against black uniform guy. ¡°I can take it!¡± he yelled, trying to egg me into teleporting him out.


    ¡°If your friend thought that, he would¡¯ve already tried to rescue you.¡± He told Mason, and then he looked up to me. ¡°I can¡¯t say whether this won¡¯t pop your friend¡¯s head open like a smashed pumpkin, but I¡¯m excited to try. You wanna roll those dice?¡± black uniform asked me.


    I stuttered. ¡°And what would you do with the kid, huh!? What was that laboratory down there! Why do you want him so bad!?¡± I tried stalling for time.


    ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern! Two!¡±


    I gritted my teeth. Why did it all have to come to this? Where was that higher power when you needed him most? Adam Mason was the only friend I had in City 57¡ªmaybe the whole world. I didn¡¯t want to lose him, not after all this. He was dying, and I still would¡¯ve traded my life for his in a heartbeat.


    I just couldn¡¯t lose another friend. I had nothing left except him.


    Adam looked at me and slowly shook his head.


    I was quiet for a moment, realizing this was it. I sighed. ¡°I did what you asked, Adam. I got the kids out.¡±


    I wished I had something more to say, but that seemed to be enough for him. He closed his eyes and gave a weak smile. I saw a look of happiness on his face, and I realized he had found a good way to die. He was okay with this. And if he was okay, then so was I.


    ¡°Three!¡±


    I braced to teleport. And if I left holding his corpse, then that was it.


    Okay. Let¡¯s do it.


    I blinked, but I didn¡¯t teleport. Suddenly, there was another stranger in a black uniform standing next to Mason and the guy holding him hostage.


    ¡°We got him,¡± he said, placing a hand on the first guy.


    I stepped forward, confused. ¡°What?¡±


    And they were gone. Adam fell to the ground, but I didn¡¯t catch him. My thoughts raced in my head faster than my body could react. I stumbled and teleported back up to where I had left the child, only to discover he was missing. I screamed in rage as I realized they had another teleporter on their team. Maybe he was there from the beginning. Maybe he got called in as soon as I took the kid.


    It didn¡¯t matter.


    I had been played. I should¡¯ve ran out of there with the kid as fast as I could. But no, I had to be stupid and forget other people had superpowers too!


    I teleported around as fast as I could, hoping to catch a trace of them so I could follow their trail. But my moment¡¯s hesitation and going back to check for the kid cost me. I searched desperately for several minutes, popping in and out of reality everywhere, practically spewing blood from my nose and eyes before I accepted that they were gone.


    Stumbling back to Mason, I saw him lying on the rubble. He wasn¡¯t passed out, but he looked to be weak. I got on one knee, and I pulled him upright, setting his back against some rubble. He looked at me deliriously, and to tell you the truth, I wasn¡¯t much better off. My head was pounding, and it took everything in me to keep seeing straight.


    ¡°Not feeling too good,¡± he weakly gasped. ¡°Think this might be the end of the road.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, we¡¯re going to get you better,¡± I reassured him as I looked up to the ASA headquarters.


    Seattle Vance was gone, but it didn¡¯t matter.


    Even as weak as I was, he couldn¡¯t outrun me.

 Chapter Twenty Three

    Seattle Vance


    I booked it as soon as black uniform jumped down, running down the wrecked office hallways of the ASA headquarters. It didn¡¯t take long to get back to where I started, back to all the corpses of the former Knight Squad. They were strewn throughout the blood-spattered hallway. Honestly it looked like a hurricane had blown through. The lighting fixtures were busted, bullet-holes everywhere.


    The once banal ASA headquarters took on something new, something nightmarish. It was a proper war zone, and I realized then that we might¡¯ve done what the nukes couldn¡¯t. This place was properly trashed, and something told me¡ªthough I had no way of being sure¡ªthat this hellhole wasn¡¯t going to be rebuilt again.


    After all, who really cares about a dump like City 57?


    I was practically lost in thought as I was kicking in doors. And finally, I found what I was looking for.


    Dust was curled up in a corner. He had gotten out of his restraints, but it looked like he had received the same interrogation treatment I had. He was shaking, and he made a small yelp as I suddenly burst in the room.


    I was glad he was alive. Maybe that¡¯s a little hypocritical as I had nearly killed him. But hey, no one¡¯s perfect.


    ¡°Come on, kid,¡± I sighed, knowing my face was just as busted and bruised as his. ¡°Time to finish this.¡±


    Dust didn¡¯t respond. He had frozen up, and I didn¡¯t have time to sit down and give him the talk. I walked over and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him into the body-strewn corridor outside. I pulled the boy back to the black secret corridor, back to where this mess started, back to where I nearly killed him.


    The zurchon corridor was blaring with red lights. It looked like a few of the Knight Squad guys had tried to make a last stand here. Their half disintegrated corpses told me it didn¡¯t really work out. And at the end, the goal sat behind a reinforced door, the server room tantalizingly behind the transparent glass.


    ¡°I just want to go home!¡± Dust finally snapped out of autopilot as he looked at the scene. ¡°I don¡¯t want to do this anymore, please!¡±


    The kid was well and truly broken, crying because it was all too much. It was impossible not to see how young he was¡ªhow deep down, no matter how hard he tried to toughen himself against the world, he was just a kid at the end of the day. I paused, covered in blood and sweat and my own tears.


    You know, I couldn¡¯t help but remember what Joshua had said to me earlier today.


    I flashbacked to Joshua¡¯s bunker, to when I left the little hide hole. Joshua was hunched over his computer screens as he glanced at me.


    ¡°This is the last time, Vance.¡±


    I remembered how I grinned at him. ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±


    He didn¡¯t say anything back, but the sad look on his face told me that it was for the last time. I don¡¯t think it was anything I particularly did. It was just that he realized I didn¡¯t care. I didn¡¯t care about him at all. Didn¡¯t care about anything except getting what I wanted.


    The thing that broke my heart was that he wasn¡¯t wrong¡­ but he wasn¡¯t right either.


    ¡°It¡¯s nearly over, kid.¡± I grimaced, wishing I had something better to say.


    I sat him in the hallway, while I pillaged the bodies. I slung one of the dead soldier¡¯s M4s over my shoulder. Then I knelt down and started rummaging through the vests of one of the soldiers. Lifting my hand back up, I shook a grenade in my hand. Glancing over to the locked glass door, I pulled the pin.


    It took a few blasts. The reinforced door was plenty sturdy, but even it couldn¡¯t take that kind of beating. A minute later, and I was in the secret room. Black hulks of servers loomed over me, and the dark red room was filled with high-tech equipment I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of. Searching frantically, I opened every drawer and container.


    And then¡­ there it was. I opened a metal grate of one of the servers, and I saw a black flash drive plugged into it. Ripping it out, I held it in my hand.


    It was bizarre how easy it was. After everything that had happened, here it was. Did I feel happy? Did I feel excited? Not really, I was just tired. I just wanted to go home, but I didn¡¯t have a home. That was the reason I was here.


    I knew my brother¡¯s name was somewhere on that list, but the trouble was, I knew it didn¡¯t mean anything good. What were the odds that he was alive and well after all this time? I knew it was practically zero. But that wasn¡¯t the point. The point was to find out the how¡¯s and the why¡¯s of what they did to him.


    And then after that? If I was still alive, I was going to hit the Democratic Union where it hurt. Today had been a slaughter, but it was nothing compared to what I was going to do with this flash drive.


    I pocketed the device, and walking out, I radioed Raven and August that it was mission accomplished.


    I didn¡¯t get a response.


    Just as I was about to step out of the zurchon corridor, I stopped. Maybe it was a change in the air. Maybe it was just my gut. Maybe it was I couldn¡¯t hear Dust¡¯s sobs anymore. But I sighed and my shoulders fell.


    ¡°Come out, Daniel.¡±


    There was a long moment of silence. I was beginning to feel like an idiot until Daniel stepped into the doorway holding Dust hostage. He was holding a pistol to the kid¡¯s head.


    Fucking hell, this was twice in a row. I was so distracted with the d¨¦j¨¤ vu that I didn¡¯t even lift my gun.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Where is Mason¡¯s serum?¡± Daniel asked.


    He had looked as bad as the rest of us. Blood was streaming down his nose. He was covered in grime and dirt and a thousand tiny scrapes.


    I glanced to Dust, ignoring Daniel. ¡°You ever get around to placing that call?¡±


    The kid nodded, terrified.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Daniel shook the pistol. ¡°Where is the serum? I don¡¯t get it, and the kid dies!¡±


    I looked up at him. ¡°You¡¯re not a killer, Daniel. Well you are¡ªbut not that kind. Let the kid go, and we¡¯ll talk.¡±


    It¡¯s funny. I had a million lies running through my head, a million ways to try to bullshit out of this one, but my heart wasn¡¯t in it for whatever reason. So I told it simply, just how it was.


    I looked at him square in the eye. ¡°There never was any serum. There¡¯s not a damn thing anyone can do to help Mason. Let the kid go. It¡¯s me you want.¡±


    Daniel processed this for a second. He pushed the kid away and aimed his pistol right at me, but I was faster. I lifted my M4 and shot at him. Daniel blinked out of existence while I doubled back for the server room. Throwing my exhausted body around the corner, I knew I was stuck.


    My teleporting friend couldn¡¯t come in the corridor without losing his advantage, and I couldn¡¯t get out without going through Daniel.


    Bullets pinged off zurchon as Daniel unloaded his gun in anger. ¡°You¡¯re a piece of shit Seattle Vance!¡±


    I quietly reloaded my M4 and lifted a grenade in my hand. ¡°I know,¡± I said.


    Pulling the pin, I quickly chucked it at Daniel. There was a bang, and I hoped Dust hadn¡¯t been caught in the explosion. All went quiet with my ears ringing. I knew it didn¡¯t kill him. Daniel was trying to bait me out.


    ¡°You¡¯re wasting your time, kid.¡± I called out to him. ¡°If you care about Mason, you should head back. Tell him¡­ tell him¡­¡± I paused and reflected. ¡°Tell him I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°¡®Sorry¡¯ isn¡¯t going to fix any of this!¡± Daniel yelled. Another bullet pinged off the zurchon.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I muttered.


    I jumped out and unloaded my M4 where Daniel had been standing. He blinked out of existence again, but I could tell he was slow. He was just as tired and knocked out as I was. All it would take would be one lucky shot.


    I jumped back around the corner to the server room. I don¡¯t why I was playing it so risky. Technically all I had to do was wait for Joshua¡¯s surprise. But I suppose Daniel deserved that chance to take me out. Even as we traded gunfire, he deserved that much.


    I have a funny way of saying apologies I guess. I jumped out and unloaded my M4 again.


    Time blurred. I¡¯ll admit. I expected to look down and see red blossoming on my chest. I expected to fall over dead¡­ and I was fine with it. I was completely calm, almost out of my own body. Everyone has a ledger I guess, debts to be paid. They tell you the world isn¡¯t fair, but that isn¡¯t true¡ªnot quite. It¡¯s the people who aren¡¯t fair, but things have a funny way of coming back round again. The world schemes its justice¡ªthe problem is people can¡¯t see it because they think they¡¯re at the top of it all. We think it ought to be our justice, our way of doing things. But that¡¯s not how it works. There¡¯s a dance to it, and we¡¯re all just the spectators.


    I had learned that lesson, seen it with my own eyes. And I was okay with paying up what I was due.


    I jumped out again and fired my gun.


    Instead of going back into cover, I took another risk and waited for Daniel to blink back. He did, and I aimed for his head, but he was gone again before I could press the trigger.


    I fired anyway.


    I can¡¯t tell you how badly I wanted him to leave. Not for my life¡ªI just wanted him to relay my apology to Mason. It felt like that was the thing that was supposed to happen. The moral at the end of all this carnage, you know? But when I heard the buzzing of the drone, my heart fell in my chest. I suppose closure is too much to ask for someone like me. It¡¯s a damn shame that. My gun clicked as it finally ran out of ammo. I lowered my M4 and dropped it to the floor. It clacked on the ground as Daniel blinked in, aiming his pistol right at me.


    He was so blinded by rage, and he deserved that shot. I didn¡¯t duck or jump back into cover or do anything. I just looked at him quietly as he had death in his eyes.


    It was all over in a second.


    Joshua¡¯s drone shot in just behind Daniel and detonated. The explosion was twofold. It had a nullifier bomb that emitted a sonic shriek to disable superpowers. The next was a more conventional explosion.


    It wasn¡¯t the sort of thing that should¡¯ve caught someone like Daniel. It was way too slow. But Daniel was exhausted. He was at his limit. And he was so blinded with anger, I was the only thing he was focused on. Nothing mattered except killing me, and then the drone appeared behind him. He could only glance back in surprise as it exploded.


    Bang!


    The force threw me back to the ground, but I picked myself up, shaking off the dust. I was thankfully unharmed. The shock wore off. However, I found that Daniel Peterson wasn¡¯t so lucky. He had managed to dodge the drone from ramming into him, but he couldn¡¯t escape the nullifier and the fragmentation. He was laying on the ground bleeding, missing an arm and his chest looked fairly mangled. But he was alive and breathing.


    He looked at me dazed. I think he was shocked that he lost.


    I walked over and kneeled over him. ¡°Sorry about that. Didn¡¯t mean for you to get hurt in this dust up.¡±


    He breathed, and he tried to rasp out a response, but all he could do was spit blood in my face. I wiped it away.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get you out of here,¡± I said as I picked him up. ¡°Stay alive for a little while longer, and I promise things will get better.¡±


    ¡­


    It was harder than I thought, lugging Daniel Peterson¡¯s unconscious body down so many flights of stairs. I left out the back entrance of ASA building, invisible, of course. Thankfully, our truck had been far enough away from the chaos that it was undamaged. Raven and August never showed. Maybe I would find out what happened to them later. Maybe not.


    Either way, Dust and I piled in with our new friend, and we took off. City 57 had established a security perimeter around the fighting, but since it was City 57, it was a very loose and unorganized security perimeter. It was easy for us to slip on past back into the ugly¡ªbut not quite war zone City 57.


    I lit up a cigarette as I dropped Dust off at an Index safehouse. He gave me a quiet look of hate, and that was the last I saw of him. I texted Mr. Greene that I had the kid, and after a few seconds, he texted back coordinates that were on the outskirts of the city.


    It was a long, boring drive. My only worry was that Daniel might try to teleport out of the vehicle. But he was totally out of it. I pulled into what looked to be an abandoned grocery store around the back. It was a quiet, secluded place that seemed to have been passed over by even the homeless. There were three men in unremarkable clothing and Mr. Greene with a fedora. They stood next to a truck that was disguised as a food delivery vehicle.


    While I parked next to them, the men brought out a gurney. They had rightly assumed that Daniel might¡¯ve had some injuries, and good on them for it. Their foresight probably saved his life. I yanked open the door to my truck. Mr. Greene took one glance at Daniel, and he was understandably pissed.


    ¡°What happened?¡± he demanded.


    ¡°He got in my way, but if you see to him quickly, he¡¯ll live.¡±


    I got a look of utter contempt, but Mr. Greene pulled out his phone and he clicked on the screen. ¡°Your payment, Mr. Vance,¡± he explained, pocketing the device. ¡°As promised. Now get out of my sight before I kill you.¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders and saluted goodbye to Daniel. He was awake again, and he was struggling against the men. They had already hit him up with a sedative, so he was too disoriented to teleport.


    ¡°Let¡­ go of¡­ me,¡± he muttered weakly as the men put on restraints.


    Mr. Greene kept his back turned to Daniel, as if not wanting him to see his face. But I don¡¯t think it mattered.


    Daniel raised his head and a look of confusion and shock and betrayal filled his expression.


    ¡°Jayne?¡±

 Chapter Twenty Four

    Adam Mason


    I knew Daniel wasn¡¯t coming back. As the rain began to lighten, I realized too much time had passed. Either he was dead or captured, and it didn¡¯t matter which. I was too weak to search for him. And he wasn¡¯t going to be making it back in time.


    The feeling was deep in my bones. The pain had receded, but I wasn¡¯t getting any stronger. I was getting weaker. Don¡¯t know if it was just my time, or if the beating on my body pushed things over the edge. It didn¡¯t matter much. I was dying, and I knew it.


    Was I scared? Course I was scared. But more than that, I was sad. I wouldn¡¯t get to speak to Daniel again. I wouldn¡¯t get to do much of anything because my time was finally up. But to tell you the truth, I don¡¯t know what I would¡¯ve done. Even if God descended from the heavens and gave me a little more time, it just seemed there was nothing left to do.


    After all the anger and sadness and despair, all I wanted now was to know my life had meant something. Did any of what we did today mean anything? Were things any better because I had lived and died? Maybe. But it was hard to see from my throne of rubble overlooking a devastated city. I wasn¡¯t ready for that. I wasn¡¯t ready to face God and have Him tell me I wasted everything.


    But I was done, and there was nothing else I could do.


    In my blurred vision, I saw three people descending from the sky. The Blue Justice landed not far from me. Atomic Girl kept herself and Yellow Bolt aloft with purple energy, and they hovered overhead while blue spandex walked up to me.


    ¡°You¡¯re a little late to the party,¡± I coughed. ¡°What held you up?¡±


    ¡°Our boss didn¡¯t want to risk us getting killed and humiliating him.¡±


    ¡°Tch.¡± I snorted. ¡°So, why are you here now? Saw what went down? Did he send you to finish the job?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± The Blue Justice scratched at his arm. I noticed that his watch from last time was missing. ¡°The entire area is still marked as dangerous. They¡¯re holding back rescue crews because they¡¯re afraid of more fighting.¡±


    ¡°Well, there ain¡¯t no more fighting here. It¡¯s over.¡± I tried to straighten up. ¡°And here I am, all outta steam. If you got a grudge from me knocking you silly into a skyscraper, I can¡¯t do anything about it. So go ahead, getting killed by City 57¡¯s top hero isn¡¯t a bad way to go out.¡±


    The Blue Justice kneeled over me. ¡°Where¡¯s Daniel Peterson?¡± he asked.


    I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°Gone. Probably dead for all I know. Last I saw him, he was following Seattle Vance into the ASA headquarters.¡±


    The Blue Justice nodded. He put a hand on the rubble next to me. ¡°You¡¯re dying, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    I laughed, and it hurt to laugh. ¡°What gave it away?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    I tried to focus. I looked into his eyes, and I saw pity there. Wasn¡¯t what I expected. From what Daniel told me, he was supposed to be City 57¡¯s biggest prick. Made me pause a little. ¡°Save it,¡± I eventually told him. ¡°I lived as I did. I don¡¯t have regrets. So go ahead and do it.¡±


    ¡°We do it, and we might be able to save The Urban Defenders,¡± Yellow Bolt suggested. ¡°We get to take credit for putting down Adam Mason. Walter will be able¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fuck Walter,¡± The Blue Justice said. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here for Mason. I came here to save lives.¡±


    The Blue Justice turned to the rest of the group, and I really wished Daniel could¡¯ve seen this. Damn man acted like a superhero. It was cheesy as all hell, but I think the world needed that right now. It needs people who are willing to do good for good¡¯s sake and to be honest about that.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I saw The Blue Justice start giving out orders to his team to save the people trapped under buried rubble. And at once they got to work. You know what else I saw? I saw vehicles approaching in the far distance. If I had to wager a guess, The Blue Justice talked some rescue workers into actually doing their job. Or maybe he inspired them to do it.


    Either way, I wasn¡¯t about to let my presence complicate a good deed. With the last of my strength, I pushed off the ground.


    I couldn¡¯t fly anymore, so I bounded. I made three great leaps until I finally crashed on the roof of a skyscraper. From there, I had to wait until strength again to flip myself over towards the sky. I wished I still had the strength to fly up into space, but that wasn¡¯t in the cards anymore. All I could do was wait for my last breath.


    You ever think about that? We all have one waiting for us, the very last gasp of our lungs. It¡¯s always out there somewhere, even if you¡¯re not aware of it at the time. But I guess the one privilege of dying is that you know it¡¯s soon. It may not be your next one, or the one after that, but it¡¯s soon. And then it¡¯s over.


    No more pain, or so I hoped. I didn¡¯t want to go to hell, but I didn¡¯t know the words I would have to say to St. Peter to let me in. I didn¡¯t even know what sins I would be judged for¡ªand I knew I would be judged. Oblivion would be too easy, too clean. To think you get to escape all that you¡¯ve done is wishful thinking. Nah, I knew then I would pay the price of what I reaped. In fact, I was probably paying for it now.


    ¡°Take me when you want,¡± I told the sky. ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing left in me.¡±


    And I wished I could¡¯ve died there. Some poignant last words are all a man like me could¡¯ve asked for. But for whatever reason, be it divine providence or the luck of the draw, I didn¡¯t die quite yet. I was being kept around for something. I didn¡¯t know what. I had already bared my soul in the manner I could. I didn¡¯t quite see the point.


    But who was I to judge? Maybe there was some thought, some idea, some feeling that I was waiting for. I had a theory when I was young¡ªforgot about it until now. I thought there was a moment people spend their lives waiting¡ªor perhaps working¡ªfor. There¡¯s a moment of revelation. And while maybe the world still wouldn¡¯t make sense, there would be a moment where everything would¡¯ve been worth it. The purpose of your life would be fulfilled, and you could die at that moment a happy man.


    I won¡¯t say I waited that moment for all my life because I ditched that theory the second I saw the world for what it was. But if there was ever a time, I could¡¯ve used it right about now. A few minutes later, and I wouldn¡¯t have the chance.


    I tried going over all things I was thankful for, which was a very short list. Daniel might¡¯ve laughed if he knew he was at the top of it. I was really sad I was dying alone. But I can¡¯t say I didn¡¯t see it coming. I guess the top of a skyscraper was at least better than some alleyway or the river. Wasn¡¯t what I expected. Much better view and all that.


    Ah man, it was getting harder and harder to think. Everything just seemed to mush. It was like I was going to sleep. Thought after thought just seemed to turn to mush. In a roundabout way, I think the reason we go to sleep is to practice for our deaths. We spend every night of our lives practicing for the long one, and I think that¡¯s a good idea.


    What I felt wasn¡¯t unfamiliar to me, and that was comforting in its own way. I wasn¡¯t really in pain anymore. I was drifting in and out. Each time I thought this was it, but I took another breath and some fire flickered back in me. But it was going out, and it would go out soon.


    I really wished people were taken away when they die. I didn¡¯t like the thought of my body rotting atop this skyscraper in City 57. I didn¡¯t like the idea of rotting at all. I wish I would just vanish in a puff of smoke, taken to somewhere else where I wouldn¡¯t decompose. Or maybe not even that¡ªjust that I wouldn¡¯t be in City 57 anymore. I wished I was laid to rest on a tree somewhere on a green hill overlooking a valley. Something peaceful.


    The thought of just continuing in this world disgusted me. But maybe that was for the best. I had blood on these hands. And until I got new hands, these ones deserved to stay down here for everything they did. They deserved to rot away and turn to dust. Better than that to sully whatever else was out there.


    I can¡¯t tell you how much I wanted that, for anything else to be better out there. I would¡¯ve given anything to see that world. Not even enter it¡ªbecause I knew I didn¡¯t deserve that. But to know there was something more than this. To see it with my own eyes, I would¡¯ve given anything. Ah well, I was going to find out soon enough.


    Each breath was harder to draw. It was nearing the time. It wasn¡¯t suffocating like I thought it would. It was more like letting go.


    How I desperately wanted someone to be here, to hold my hand as I went. But Daniel wasn¡¯t here. I couldn¡¯t even summon the strength to remember his face. It was all slipping away, too fast, too much. I was going, and I didn¡¯t want to go just yet.


    I forgot when the rain stopped. But it did. The dark clouds in the sky had long turned grey, but I didn¡¯t really realize that until they finally parted. I saw the sun peek behind those clouds, and it shone down on me.


    I grinned as I finally realized something. I couldn¡¯t hear anything anymore, not even the rain. Everything was quiet.


    And I was happy.