Part 1

Caustel. That was the name he’d decided on, ‘caust’ meaning

something along the lines of burning and decay. It was… well, it was a

little dark, but that was to be expected of a villainous alias. The

important thing was that it was his, in the way that Aunt Lucy had

‘Carcinoid’ and Cassandra had ‘Sigiforal.’ Jeremiah even had his own

magical object, those weird little pieces of jewelry that allowed

ordinary people to transform into something more. His own was in the

shape of a severed middle finger that he hoped wasn’t real, and the base

of it was capped with gold and hung on a necklace chain. It was a bit of

a pain to hide under his clothes, but the powers it brought him were

worth it: the armor, the fire, the rage. It was cool.

“Good morning, Jeremiah,” Jeremiah glanced downwards,

where Aunt Lucy’s downstairs neighbor was sitting innocently on their

patio, “On your way to see Lucy?”

“Er- yeah.” Day was the host of the building's monthly block

parties, which Aunt Lucy attended out of some weird social self-

obligation that he didn’t quite understand. Jeremiah quickly moved to

the door of his aunt’s apartment.

“You ready for training, Jer?” Lucy asked, opening the door

before he even had a chance to knock.

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Great. I’ll grab my coat.” Jeremiah stood in the doorway as

Aunt Lucy grabbed her favorite coat, hoping that he was out of Day’s

sight and deftly wondering where his aunt would lead him. It made

sense to not train with magical objects in public, but there wasn’t really

anywhere private besides the vast grainhouses of Der Verde, and those

were quite a few hours away, not to mention overseen by multiple

actual heroes and under the influence of multiple actually vicious

villains- the kind of people who murdered civilians for the sheer thrill

of it. Not a pleasant place, exactly.

“Ready to go?” Lucy asked, once more appearing in the

doorway and sporting the characteristic black coat that she wore on

nearly every outing. Jeremiah just shrugged and fell behind her as she

walked down the path.

“Where you headed?” Day asked from below. Oh Core no,

couldn’t they just not deal with her for a moment?

“To the gym.” Lucy answered cheerfully, “Have a nice day!”

“You too!”

Aunt Lucy was a fast walker when she wasn’t given anything

to talk about, as Jeremiah had realized long ago. It did make some sort

of sense, given she had to walk briskly to and from her job every day,

to and from her clients’ meeting places, and up and down the stairs that

crowded the parts of Sol Undra overrun with poverty. They were

headed into that part of town, the place with apartments stacked as tall

as could pass building codes with such flimsy materials. He figured it

made sense, though, to train in a place where nobody really cared what

went on.

“This is it.” His aunt declared once they were in front of a run-

down building, sporting several apartments as well as the odd

commercial business, if the rusty directory on the front door was

anything to go by. Then again, it did seem rather old.

Jeremiah followed his aunt up about a dozen flights of stairs

until they reached a decaying metal door with a janky sign above it, not

uncommon for the area and seemingly the standard for the entire

building. The writing on the sign was, of course, only barely legible,

but it made Jeremiah startle when he finally figured it out.

“What in the world is Lethwi?”

“Lethwei, actually. It’s a type of martial art that’s pretty brutal,

so I figured it would be perfect for our cause,” A martial art? “I’ve got

a connection with the owner of this particular academy. They aren’t

aware that you’ll be using it with fire, of course, but it means we get a

pretty nice discount and a free first lesson. You can work on fire at the

apartment with the fire alarm turned off, but it’s best if you get a good

technique first.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.” Unfortunately. Jeremiah

wasn’t exactly eager to start working out, much less take martial arts

lessons from some complete stranger.

“Well, go on in.” Aunt Lucy reached into her purse and took

out a black thermos, “I’ll be waiting outside. It’s tea time, afterall.”

What? “Aren’t you going to be on the field as well?” Jeremiah asked,

raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t have a connection through work Jeremiah- I already

train here every Tuesday.” Ah. That… actually made a lot of sense.

Aunt Lucy would be the type of person to just casually forget to

mention that she was a trained street fighter. That was just who she

was, Jeremiah supposed.

“Alright. See you in a bit, then.” With that bit of information

and a renewed admiration for his aunt stored within him, Jeremiah

pushed open the door, only slightly amazed that it didn’t disintegrate on

contact. “Ah, you must be Jeremiah.” There was a remarkably large

person behind a remarkably small desk just beyond the door, “Lucy

mentioned she’d be bringing in her nephew for a consultation today,

though I must admit I didn’t expect you to be this skinny.”

“H-hello to you too?” Jeremiah tried, only to be waved off.

“Urich, a pleasure to meet you. They/them, please.” Urich

stepped out from their place behind the desk and sent Jeremiah a large

grin, showing off their crooked and yellowing teeth, “Shall we get

started, then? I’ll be going easy on you to figure out where you’re

already at so we can get you in a proper class.”

“Okay.” Jeremiah responded, preparing himself for the

inevitable slaughter that would follow. He had never really been in

shape, due in part to the lazy PE coach that made it a habit to wreck any

poor student’s attempts at finding joy through exercise and Jeremiah’s

own love of video games. He had honestly never thrown a punch in his

life, though it had always kind-of been on the bucket list. He could only

hope that he wasn’t as comically bad as he thought he was.

Part 2

“How’d it go?” Aunt Lucy asked, glancing up at Jeremiah

from her spot on the hallway floor. He could only groan in response,

with a deep ache in his bones and at least two dozen bruises littered

across his body, “Sounds about right.” Jeremiah tried his best to not be

offended by her tone of voice.

The walk back to her apartment was a tiring one, each step

making his legs feel heavier than before. Despite their promise to go

‘easy’ on Jeremiah, Urich had most certainly beat him harder than any

schoolyard bully. Then, just to add insult to injury, Urich had declared

that Jeremiah would be best suited for the beginning class, which would

take place once a week just after Jeremiah’s communications class. He

hadn’t even managed to land a hit on Urich, who had just laughed off

all of his meager attempts. Core forbid Urich ever became a villain,

because Sol Undra wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Jer?” Ah. They had reached the door to Aunt Lucy’s

apartment, and Jeremiah hadn’t even noticed. Damn. He’d been hoping

to part ways somewhere closer to the dorm building.

“Well, it’s been great seeing you even though we didn’t talk

much, but I think it’s really time I get-” He began.

“Jer, your training is far from over.” Lucy interrupted, rolling

her eyes. Jeremiah really hadn’t signed up for a full day of work- he

had homework to get to- but when Lucy had decided something it was

most definitely decided. Besides, Jeremiah didn’t have enough energy

to resist the woman as she pulled him inside her home and brought him

into the kitchen.

“What’s next then, boss?” He was already regretting his

decision to join her more than slightly illegal cause. Jeremiah hadn’t

been aware that it would come with so much exercise.

“The main event, of course. I want you to work on your fire

magic. See what you can do and how much you can control- that sort of

thing.” Well, that wasn’t so bad. Jeremiah had been waiting to work on

his magic.

The transformation was a quick thing, but it was no less

impressive than the first time he’d undergone it. He felt, for a short time

only, as he imagined someone would feel when flying. The armor that

he wore when transformed simply appeared, never weighing any

heavier than air and feeling as comfortable as his own skin. The

constant stuffy heat that came from living under Corelight became

comforting and empowering.

“Alright, just try your best. Okay?” Aunt Lucy advised.

Jeremiah grinned- he felt on top of the world, naturally he would do his

best- and conjured up a flame in the palm of his hand.

Oh. Well, that was a little disappointing. The flame was

remarkably small compared to the fire he had imagined in his head,

though he supposed it made sense without a proper fuel source. Really,

what was the fuel source for magical fire? Was it his own magical

ability in some sort of way or was it something else? Oxygen obviously

played a role as it did for a normal fire and the heat was there- he could

feel it- but it wasn’t consuming his hand like one would expect. Was

the fuel something cheesy- like his spirit or his rage or something like

that? Jeremiah was suddenly starting to regret not paying more

attention to the magical systems in media, which had clearly pulled

inspiration from the more secret magical systems of real life.

“It went out.” Jeremiah noted with a frown. Some time while

he had been contemplating the logistics of fuelless fire his own flame

had flickered out of existence, leaving his armored palm frankly a little

cold. “That it did, Jer,” Lucy hummed, “Were you concentrating

enough? Don’t feel too bad, of course, I’m just barely able to create one

copy of myself with decent logical capabilities.” Jeremiah knew

perfectly well that his Aunt Lucy just wanted to comfort him, but he

also knew that it wasn’t everyday that Lucy was anything less than

utterly amazing at something, so he felt marginally better

His second flame lasted quite a bit longer, given that he

concentrated on the flickering form itself rather than the quite possibly

non-existent fuel source. Things inevitably went down the drain the

very second Jeremiah tried to make the flame even the slightest bit

bigger, but anything was progress in his eyes. He was certain that his

third flame was going to be much better, given the saying and all, and

sure enough once he put in some effort it successfully grew in size-

though it was still only as big as his fist.

Fire had originally seemed like a rather lackluster thing-

destructive, but never decorative. Given the large, dense population of

Sol Undra, even closed flames were illegal to have anywhere in the

city. Yet, as Jeremiah was quickly realizing, all those videos of old

battles between heroes and villains where fire was used had nothing on

the actual product. Nothing on the live product. Jeremiah was

beginning to realize why some weirdos on the outskirts of town set fire

to buildings for the fun of it- it was for the sheer thrill of starting

something dangerous and watching it consume everything in sight.

There wasn’t anything to consume, really, but Jeremiah found himself

looking forward to the day he could light a bank or something and

watch his golden flames have their feast.

“-emiah, can you hear me?” Aunt Lucy’s hand was in front of

his face, though it was her voice that snapped him out of his thoughts.

Much to his disappointment, this change in attention also put out his

darling flame.

“What’s up?” He asked, trying his best not to just snap at Aunt

Lucy. That was his fire and she’d just killed it.

“The flame was getting too big. You were about to take out

my kitchen and all the floors above us.” Too big? Jeremiah hadn’t

noticed it getting bigger, and he certainly hadn’t told- oh. Oh.

“Shit, I zoned out. Thanks for snapping me back.” Magical

objects weren’t supposed to have drawbacks, or at least Aunt Lucy

hadn’t told him about any. Perhaps it was purely psychological, then,

that he’d gotten so possessive over a simple flame. Jeremiah would

have to work on that.

“You probably shouldn’t practice alone, then.” Aunt Lucy

advised.

“I…” Well, that was probably best. As eager as Jeremiah was

to learn more about his magical object, he hadn’t splurged on the good

dorm insurance, “Okay. I’ll only be able to practice once a week, then.

No way I’m telling Rowan.” Jeremiah’s roommate watched the Tortugo

Trilogy religiously, so he definitely wouldn’t approve of anything

against heroes.

“Before next week, would you mind looking into what

magical objects are out of commission and might get pulled for Sol

Undra? I have a feeling Fractality won’t be who we go up against.”

“You’re probably right.” Jeremiah agreed with a nod.

Fractality was widely respected as ‘Sol Undra’s Last Hero’, not that

that would last long. She hadn’t been in commission for around twenty

years, and had likely been long retired. Nobody knew anything about

her though, not since she’d dropped off the map.

Having to research heroes though… ugh. Jeremiah had never

really been into the complexities of hero-lore and what-not, so he didn’t

really know where the best resources were. He also had a five-page

essay assigned to him just earlier that day that would be due next week.

Jeremiah mentally crossed out all of the freetime he’d had planned, and

moved to leave Aunt Lucy’s. It was best to get started early.

“You should de-transform first, Jer.”

“Ah- right.” Had he seriously nearly set fire to his aunt’s

kitchen and forgotten to de-transform before he walked out? It was a

good thing Aunt Lucy had reminded him, though he admitted to

himself that her apartment was far chillier without the flaming armor.

“I’ll see you Saturday, then.”

Jeremiah’s good mood was quickly discarded upon the

realization that he’d have to walk the couple of blocks back to his

college campus on legs that were not miraculously restored to full

health during the ten minutes in Lucy’s kitchen. He grimaced.

Thankfully his roommate was out on one of his many, many dates so

hopefully Jeremiah would be able to relax without any Rowan-shaped

disturbances.

Three miserable blocks later, Jeremiah’s heart sank at his own

unlocked door. Coredamnit.

“Jeremiah! Where have you been all day?” Rowan was sitting

on the couch, body angled towards the door, as if they’d been waiting

for him. Jeremiah sighed, his hopes of brushing past his roommate and

disappearing into sleep officially dashed.

“My aunt’s.” Jeremiah answered simply. His roommate and

self-proclaimed best friend seemed to be in A State, if the puffy eyes

and tissues littering the floor were anything to go by. Jeremiah wasn’t

too surprised- despite only living together for one semester, Jeremiah

had grown used to dealing with the fallouts of Rowan’s on-off

relationship.”

“Well you should have been here,” Rowan whined, “Heath

canceled our date night to hang out with Marion.” The way Rowan spat

the name, ‘Marion’ may as well have been a villain. Was Rowan really

crying over his boyfriend having friends? Had they not even broken up?

Jeremiah sighed again.

“Trouble in paradise, then.” Jeremiah concluded, leaning

against the doorframe. It didn’t look like he’d be getting out of their

conversation any time soon.

“I just- well- it’s fine for him to have friends and all but he

didn’t say he loved me the entire video call and I just don’t know what

to believe anymore!” Rowan exclaimed.

“And you want me to give you advice?” Jeremiah asked,

raising an eyebrow. He certainly wasn’t the most logical choice, but

Rowan had never struck Jeremiah as a particularly logical person.

“That’s what friends are supposed to do, right?” Rowan asked,

hopeful. Jeremiah closed his eyes.

“Rowan, just talk it out,” Jeremiah recommended, “You two

are either madly in love and just dancing around each other or falling.

Both are fine, but this ‘will he won’t he’ thing is obviously getting to

you. If you think he doesn’t say he loves you enough, just say it first.”

“Thanks, Jer.” Rowan sniffed. Jeremiah bristled at the

nickname- something reserved for his aunt only- but ultimately brushed

it off. Afterall, Rowan saying ‘thanks’ was generally code for ‘you can

go to bed now’. However… Well, Jeremiah’s roommate knew a lot

about heroes, right?

“Hey Rowan, what powers are still out of commission?”

Jeremiah asked, referring to magical objects as what the populace knew

them as. Rowan blinked, evidently surprised by the sudden question.

“Binding, controllable hair, face shape, and eyes. Why?”

Rowan answered. Jeremiah hummed thoughtfully. Binding and

controllable hair… basically the same thing. Face shape wasn’t too

exciting. Eyes were… hadn’t the last wielder been a villain? So,

unlikely.

“Project.”

“Ah.” Rowan nodded.

“Just don’t be too loud, ‘kay?” Jeremiah yawned, pushing past

the emotional boy and pulling his bed down from its spot on the wall.

“‘Kay.” Rowan agreed, electing to gather his bathroom

supplies and practice basic hygiene before bed, like a nerd.

Part 3

Fire, as Jeremiah had quickly discovered, was incredibly hard

to control, particularly when a small part of him still didn’t really want

to. He wasn’t very good at squashing the part down, despite another

hour-long session with Lucy to work on each other’s magic. He did feel

bad about it, because Lucy needed a house burnt down, so that they

could draw attention to the recent actions of a swindling bigot who

resided there and, hopefully, rob a few of her neighbors for start-up

villainy funds.

It had seemed nice, when Jeremiah had just arrived in front of

the building decked out and transformed, to finally get to expand his

flames to the all-consuming size they wanted to be. It was significantly

less nice once Jeremiah realized that he then had to control the giant

flames, which proved to be quite different from maintaining a little

flicker. It was so tempting to just- let go. To let the flames consume the

entire city burning everything to ash as-

Right, no. Fire was about control Jeremiah moved to wipe a

bead of sweat off his face, only to realize for the first time the severe

consequences of wearing full plate mail. Heat couldn’t affect him, oh

no, but stress certainly could. Core damnint.

“So you’re the arsonist.” Both Jeremiah and the flames startled

at the strange voice behind him. Jeremiah quickly whirled around to

find the source.

“What-?!” The words caught in Jeremiah’s throat. The only

person around- presumably the speaker- did not seem like much of a

person at all. Their body was humanoid. At least- as humanoid as

Jeremiah had gotten used to, living on a college campus. Neck-down

they seemed to have come from some cosplay contest as a moth,

wearing an outlandish cape that would probably look vaguely menacing

to birds and people with entomophobia. Their head, however…

“I’m Optokinesis, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The thing said,

stretching a hand towards him. Their head was an eye, lidless and

floating just above a humanoid neck which was oozing blood.

“Cau- Caustel.” Jeremiah stuttered out, unable to take his eyes

off of their… eye. This was clearly another magical object wielder, but

could they really be a hero? Not only was it unlikely that Sol Undra just

casually had a hero waiting in the wings in case a villain came, it was

unlikely that such a hero would be so… unmarketable. Besides,

superheroes didn’t tend to just drop out of the sky.

“Do you suppose you could put that out, then?”

Jeremiah felt the fire stutter as a reflection of his own surprise.

Well, apparently superheroes really did just show up out of nowhere.

He should have expected it, a month prior he believed that supervillains

wouldn’t just appear on the streets, yet there he was. Hadn’t Rowan

mentioned that the power to manipulate and/or form eyes was one of

the magical objects out of commission? Jeremiah had written it off,

since the magical object had previously belonged to a villain, but

perhaps it had fallen into the hands of the hero commission over the

years. “No can do, Optokinesis,” Jeremiah said, taking a page out of

those cheesy superhero movies to fake confidence, even though he was

properly terrified of whatever was going on with Optokinesis’ head,

“The boss’d be mad.”

“Carcinoid?” Optokinesis asked, their head-eye-thing cocking

slightly. Jeremiah took a step back. How in the world did this stranger

already know about Carcinoid? She wasn’t secret, per say, but she

hadn’t shown up for their first operation and her name hadn’t been

given out to anyone, “Sigiforal let it slip. Rather helpful, she is, though

if you don’t mind me being rude I’m not sure she’s entirely sane. Have

you suggested therapy, already?” Jeremiah blinked.

Well, he didn’t exactly think that Sigiforal, one of Lucy’s co-

workers who she had convinced to join villainy, didn’t need therapy,

but it seemed like unwelcome criticism in the villainy business.

Sigiforal herself hadn’t seemed open to criticism, either.

“Anyways, I’m sure Carcinoid wouldn’t mind if you explained

the situation.” Optokinesis suggested, as if they were conversing over

dinner rather than over flames.

“You know that how?” Jeremiah asked with a scoff.

“Better to retreat than to engage, right?” Optokinesis said,

pretty much repeating exactly what Lucy had said in her debrief.

Jeremiah chalked it up to a coincidence and narrowed his eyes. Was

Optokinesis challenging him?

“Look, Optokinesis,” he sneered, “actually, that’s kind-of a

mouthful. Look, Opto- I don’t know who you think you are, showing

up with ancient superpowers and acting all goody-goody on the streets,

but I am not going anywhere.” Jeremiah was now vaguely aware that

the housefire was roaring and had the potential to spread at any

moment, but honestly he was just happy for it to add to his intimidation

factor.

“I beg to differ.” Well, apparently not enough intimidation

factor. Then again, who could win in a contest of intimidation against a

guy with an eye for a head?

Jeremiah made the first move, not wanting to get caught

unaware by Optokinesis. He set a fist on fire and lunged, only for his

arm to get caught by Optokinesis’ hand. The rest of his arm roared in

retaliation, forcing Optokinesis to draw back their hand. The element of

surprise didn’t last long though, and as soon as Jeremiah swung once

more Optokinesis had already landed a solid blow to his stomach.

Jeremiah took a step back, and in his moment of unsteadiness

Optokinesis swung their other fist around to hit his cheek and knock

him to the floor.

Okay. So. Optokinesis was a little stronger than Jeremiah had

initially assessed. They also had brass knuckles, which seemed a little

unfair, but perhaps it was Jeremiah’s own fault for not noticing them

earlier and foolishly challenging the new superhero to a fist-fight. He’d

need to be strategic if he wanted to escape. Escape, because defeating

Optokinesis was already completely off the table. Optokinesis was

already headed towards where Jeremiah was sprawled out on the

walkway, so he waited until they were close enough to do some serious

damage before bursting his entire body into flames, praying to the

deities which he had never truly believed in, that Optokinesis’ costume

would catch.

It did, and Jeremiah enjoyed the realization in Opto’s eyes as

he used his power to set their entire cape(seriously, who wore capes?)

ablaze. The cape was all that caught, though, and it didn’t seem to be

turning to ash like most fuels would. Jeremiah couldn’t even savor the

moment, because as uncomfortable as Optokinesis surely was with that

much heat on their back, having a perpetually flaming cape just made

them look even more intimidating. There was no way Jeremiah was

going to back down, though.

“You might want to put out that fire, now.” Optokinesis

advised, tilting their eye and giving Jeremiah the impression that

someone was deeply disappointed in him. Jeremiah didn’t even grace

the suggestion with his answer, instead pushing himself back to his feet

and setting fire to his fist once more. Fortunately for Optokinesis-

though who was he kidding, Jeremiah would be pummeled- the flames

Jeremiah had formed previously caught his attention.

“Oh shit.” So much for control. The entire building was on

fire. Jeremiah quickly snuffed it out as he had so many times before,

relieved that the flames actually went out.

“You might want to make sure your friend’s okay, Caustel.”

Optokinesis suggested, nodding at the charred building. Jeremiah found

himself inclined to take the superhero’s advice. If Sigiforal had been

inside, robbing one of the buildings as she was supposed to do…

He didn’t particularly want to think about it.

“Sigiforal! Sigiforal, are you okay?!” Jeremiah called out to

the charred buildings. Quite miraculously, a figure appeared in the

doorway of the floor down, coughing and obviously in poor shape.

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved my power more.” The woman

choked out as Jeremiah quickly leapt to the lower walkway and rushed

to her side, “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry. I… got distracted.” Jeremiah put his arm under

Sigiforal and let her lean on him, glaring at Optokinesis.

“You two want an ambulance or something?” The superhero

had folded their arms, seeming even more judgemental than before.

“Leave us alone.” Jeremiah spat, helping Sigiforal navigate out

of the doorway and into the street. Optokinesis just shrugged, like a

prick. “If you say so. It was a pleasure meeting you two, anyway. I’ll

be checking for civilians.” With that final note, Optokinesis entered the

charred building, looking for the people that Lucy had assured Jeremiah

would all be out on the business trip they had mysteriously been invited

to. Jeremiah and Cassandra ducked into a pocket of space

between two houses and de-transformed before they left, not wanting to

draw any unwanted attention to themselves on the way back to Lucy’s

house. Thankfully, probably due to her ability to look into the future for

a short period of time, Cassandra had managed to escape the flaming

wreckage with little more than a sprained ankle and a few cuts. The

ankle could be easily explained, though hopefully they wouldn’t

encounter any curious strangers on the long walk back.

“Are you two okay?” Aunt Lucy asked as they walked down

the hallway, already standing in her doorway with worry lines on her

face. Jeremiah didn’t think he’d ever seen his aunt look quite so old.

“I’m fine, Lucy.” Cassandra assured the woman as she

approached to assess the situation.

“There wasn’t any news coverage of the actual event, but

some new hero gave a speech afterwards. Jer, what-” Aunt Lucy caught

herself as Jeremiah winced. He was not looking forward to whatever he

was going to get: a scolding or a head shake. “We should talk about this

inside, good job keeping her off that ankle. Let’s just hope it isn’t

broken.”

It wasn’t like he had meant to set fire to the entire building-

okay, he had, but he hadn’t meant to act on it. It had just sort-of

happened while Jeremiah had been distracted by Optokinesis.

“Jer, go get some antiseptic cream and bandages from the

medicine cabinet.” Lucy instructed, guiding the injured Cassandra to

her couch. Jeremiah obeyed, grateful to leave the room that contained a

horribly disappointed Aunt Lucy.

“Antiseptic cream and gauze.” He announced, placing the

requested objects on the coffee table as Aunt Lucy surveyed the

damage.

“Thanks. Mind debriefing me, Jer?”

“I got… distracted,” Jeremiah admitted with a sigh, looking at

anything but the injured Cassandra, “I got into a fist-fight with

Optokinesis and didn’t keep track of the flames for only a minute or so.

In that time, they spread to the rest of the building. I put the fire out as

soon as I realized what had happened and found Cassandra. Then I

helped her back here.”

“You weren’t followed?” Aunt Lucy asked. Jeremiah shook

his head.

“We snuck away while the hero was searching for civilians

and de-transformed out of sight before we returned. I didn’t catch

anyone tailing us on the way home, either.” Not that Jeremiah had the

best track record of sensing when he was being watched, but he had

glanced over his shoulder a couple of times and hadn’t seen anyone

following them.

“Good. Good,” Lucy nodded and sighed, “I'll deal with Cass’

injuries. Do you want to watch the speech that Optokinesis gave after

the event? It’s not very insightful, but it’s nice to know your enemy.”

“Sure.” Jeremiah quickly navigated to a news station on the

television, hoping to distract himself from the way Aunt Lucy was

looking at him. He understood that he needed more practice, he really

did. He just hadn’t been able to keep his concentration.

Optokinesis’ speech had already been uploaded on nearly

every news outlet, all of them excited that a new hero had arrived in Sol

Undra. Jeremiah didn’t quite remember what had happened to the last

two, since whatever it was had gone down when Aunt Lucy was a

teenager and before Jeremiah was born. Sol Undra had been without

superheroes for over two decades. Jeremiah had always considered that

a good thing, but he knew that a great deal of people wished for the city

to have heroes and villains again- people like Rowan.

“Good afternoon, citizens of Sol Undra,” Optokinesis greeted

the cameraperson with a dip of the weird eye-head, “As you can see

you’re a bit late for most of the action. The ambulances have already

carried away everyone who got caught up in the flames- a gardener, a

nanny, and two children. It appears that everyone in this particular

building got an invitation for a business trip today, which I’ll be

looking into directly after this.

“For those of you wondering- yes, I am a new hero in this city.

I have been selected and trained by the retired Fractality to take action

should any villains appear, which they have. Yes, I have the same

power as the old villain Iris, who killed Fractality’s old partner

Emblazen. Rest assured, I do not intend to use my gift as violently as

she did. However, when the ability to create and control fire was lost

after Emblazen’s death, it fell into the hands of the villain who caused

this mess today- a villain who calls themself Caustel.

“I am Optokinesis, the new hero of Sol Undra. No, I will not

be revealing my identity, nor am I ever planning to as I have already

reached the age of majority. The hero office of this city will be open

tomorrow for any reporters and will be accepting all post from here on

out, but for now I must depart. Until then, dear citizens.”

The speech was just as horribly vague as Lucy had promised it

would be, though Jeremiah was a touch confused as to why Optokinesis

would mention Caustel but not Sigiforal. Perhaps they did not want to

cause too much of a stir by suggesting that there was more than one

villain in Sol Undra? Optokinesis didn’t seem to have a partner, though

they had mentioned Fractality training them. Would she eventually join

their endeavors, or would Optokinesis attempt to take out the villains

themself? Did they just not want the press doubting them? Did they

have another partner who just didn’t feel like revealing themself? Had

they simply wanted to give the people as little information as possible?

“They know you exist, Lucy. As Carcinoid.” Jeremiah

informed his aunt after some careful deliberation about whether or not

he could take her further disappointment. Lucy sighed with all the

exhaustion that Jeremiah felt.

“I’ll take that into consideration, Jer. Do you think you can

walk Cassandra back to her house? Maybe pick up some crutches?”

Aunt Lucy asked. Jeremiah nodded.

“You ready to go, Cassandra?” He asked, turning to the

woman who was sitting up on the small couch, her small burns and cuts

treated and her ankle wrapped.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Part 4

“Jeremiah, I- You’re home late again.” Rowan commented,

eyeliner running down his cheeks as he lay dramatically sprawled over

the couch that they shared.

“Heath?” Jeremiah really didn’t want to get used to coming

home to a crying Rowan, particularly after a long day of villainous

activity. He slipped onto the couch, next to Rowan fully prepared to sit

there for the next six hours, as had been the tradition every single

Saturday since Jeremiah had recommended his roommate just talk with

their boyfriend. No matter how many times he repeated his advice,

they- “We- we’re over.” Oh. Apparently they had talked. The only

plus to that particular session of whining was that it would hopefully

be the last. Hopefully, of course, because Rowan was practically

guaranteed to also whine about being single. He just seemed like that

kind of person.

“Do you want something comforting or something truthful?”

Jeremiah asked, earning a snort from his sniffling roommate.

“I don’t know. I mean- I know. I know! It’s normal for people

to break up after academy and there are so many better people I could

meet in Sol Undra and he didn’t deserve me or whatever, but I’m just-”

Rowan broke out into a fresh round of sobs, pushing his faded mascara

further down his cheeks. Jeremiah awkwardly pat Rowan’s shoulder a

few times.

“Being sad is- I mean, I think it is- pretty natural, Rowan,” Not

that Jeremiah had any experience in breakups, “You don’t have to get

over it before you’re ready, though you should probably figure it out

enough to not fail finals. I mean- imagine a psychology major who

can’t even get over their own breakup.” Yeah. Probably the wrong

thing to say. Whoops?

“Actually, I’d like to be a social worker for foster children,”

Rowan pointed out, “but yeah. Pretty pathetic.” A what?

“You- you have parents, though?” Jeremiah asked, recalling

the two friendly and fiercely outgoing women that had stopped by to

help Rowan move into the dorm. It was pretty rare for two biological

women to go through the weird genetic process that was creating a

child from their DNA, but Rowan had definitely been blood-related to

both of them. The only foster care social workers Jeremiah knew- or

had even heard about- had been foster children previously.

“I do. I just- I don’t know. It’s stupid. I had a few friends in

the system who got into bad situations because of bad people and I

suppose it was- like- my own little way of being a hero.” Oh. Well,

could Jeremiah really expect anything else from his hero-fanboy

roommate with a hero-complex?

“Speaking of heroes, have you heard the news?” If there was

one way to cheer Rowan up- or rather, distract him- it was watching the

news coverage of hero-villain fights from different cities. Honestly, it

was a little hard to believe that Rowan was still in tears over something

as little as a break-up if he knew there was a new hero in Sol Undra.

“The news? Did something happen?” Rowan asked, confused.

Well, Jeremiah supposed that confirmed Torwan’s lack of knowledge

regarding Optokinesis

“There’s not much to see quite yet, but some new villain

showed up and burned down a building. Everyone got saved by some

new hero- Opto-something. It’s on everything already- just happened

earlier today.” Jeremiah explained. He watched as the expression on

Rowan’s face shifted from an expression of utter misery to one of joy

and curiosity and felt remarkably satisfied.

“Like- in Sol Undra?” Rowan asked. Jeremiah nodded, “You

aren’t pulling my leg or anything?”

“Nah, I’ve got it here.” Jeremiah pulled up the video from one

of the many sites it had been uploaded to, “See? Watched it earlier

today at my aunt’s.”

“Core above.” Rowan murmured, reverently taking the video

and giving Optokinesis’ speech his undivided attention.

If anyone had told Jeremiah two months ago- one month ago,

even- that he would derive enjoyment from watching somebody else

watch a hero’s introductory speech, he would’ve thought them

clinically insane. There was just something so… victorious about

watching Rowan wipe away tears and snot with a sleeve, about

watching the flickering light of hope come back into his eyes. Rowan

was a notoriously emotional person, but that went both ways. He wasn’t

made to be sad all the time, the Core had just as much intended him to

be a goofy little fanboy as it did a hopeless romantic. Which honestly-

“They’re so hot.” Rowan breathed. Well, what could Jeremiah

expect? Only one person could ever find an eye-moth person attractive,

and it was Rowan, the goofy little hopeless romantic fanboy. Jeremiah

sighed. “No, Rowan. A slimy eyeball is not-”

“But they are, though!” Rowan interrupted in protest, “I mean,

listen to that voice! Where is it even coming from? Was their cape

smoking, too? And- like- would it hurt if I touched their face? Does that

even count as a face?” Those were all fair questions, but what kind of

creep would look at a rising hero’s very first speech and think

relationship?

“Weren’t you just crying over Heath?” Jeremiah asked,

folding his arms.

“Oh forget Heath,” Rowan pushed his face closer to the video.

Well. Apparently Jeremiah had done his job of comforting, “Look at

the detail on that outfit. Do you think I could just- like- pet them? Or

would that damage the little feathers?”

“It’s magic, Rowan, in case you're forgetting,” Jeremiah

pointed out. A magical cape that could withstand fire would most likely

have no trouble dealing with a loose feather, “And as soft as it does

look, I doubt they’d be fine with you just walking up to them and

asking to pet their cape.” Honestly, though, the cape did seem like it

would make a wonderful blanket. Maybe Jeremiah could steal it during

one of his inevitable encounters with the hero, though it would likely

disappear whenever Optokinesis decided to detransform.

“We’ll never know until we try!” Rowan exclaimed. Oh no.

Oh Core no. Jeremiah did not like the plural in that statement.

“We are not going to the Sol Undra hero office tomorrow so

you can be all creepy around a new hero.” Jeremiah said. Rowan’s

toothy grin said otherwise.

“I know I am,” he declared, “The only unknown is if you’re

enough of a sap to come with me.”

“And to that, the answer is no.” Jeremiah said. Just- no.

“Oh come on, Jeremiah. You’re supposed to be my best friend,

remember?” Rowan leaned towards Jeremiah, blinking his hazel eyes.

Whatever effect he was going for was fairly ruined by the runny

eyeliner and mascara. Jeremiah rolled his eyes.

“I’m supposed to be your roommate, Rowan. I only put up

with your waterworks so your mascara doesn’t ruin the couch.” Which

was… well, it was a lie. It was a lie which earned an exaggerated pout

from Jeremiah’s roommate.

“It’s washable.” Rowan retorted.

“Which is exactly why it runs down your face so easily.”

“Well- but-” Rowan sunk into the couch and folded his arms

across his chest, “It’s for the effect, anyway.”

“Of course.” Jeremiah agreed sardonically.

“Thanks for comforting me.” Of Core no, Rowan could not

possibly expect Jeremiah to give in because of just a weak little

compliment. What if Optokinesis somehow recognized him and tried to

arrest him for arson? It really wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.

“Yeah, whatever. It’s basically a full-time job at this point.”

Jeremiah brushed off, feeling the soft buzz of an incoming message

from the device Rowan had set back down on the couch.

“The job of- say- a best friend?” Rowan asked, though

Jeremiah had forgone active listening in favor of checking the message

he had just received from Aunt Lucy.

“Huh- guess I’m going to the news event after all.” Jeremiah

remarked. He probably should’ve guessed that his aunt would see the

event as a valuable opportunity. It was, afterall, a way of seeing

Optokinesis without layers of video editing or decision-impairing levels

of adrenaline.

“I know you just got a message from someone, but I’m going

to pretend you decided to go because I said I was your best friend.” His

roommate declared, stretching out on the sofa.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Part 5

“Wake up, Jeremiah.” A voice whispered harshly in his ear.

Jeremiah just rolled over. Who in their right minds would be waking

Jeremiah up so damn early?

“Go away.”

“You’ve gotta wake up, though.” The voice insisted. Jeremiah

sighed and rolled back over, squinting his eyes to make out the insane

person. “Rowan?” The fuzzy figure before him was suspiciously tall,

and once Jeremiah’s logic returned to him he was fairly certain there

was probably only one person it could be.

“Hey, Jeremiah!” Yeah, that was definitely Rowan. Who else

would have absolutely no respect for Jeremiah’s fairly decent sleep

cycle? Jeremiah sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “I couldn’t

sleep, so I thought we could head out now. Optokinesis said the office

would be open Sunday and it’s almost Sunday and it’s- like- a whole

fifteen minute walk.”

“Are you telling me that you woke me up fifteen minutes

before midnight?” Jeremiah asked incredulously. How could Rowan

have possibly thought that would be a good idea?

“Thirty, actually,” Rowan said, the combination of his manic

grin and fresh eye bags making him look frankly uncanny, “I figured

that you’d want to wash up, get dressed, all that jazz.”

“Nuh uh, no way.” Jeremiah declared, shaking his head and

laying back down despite knowing perfectly well that he wouldn’t be

able to go back to sleep as long as Rowan kept the light on.

“Yes way, actually.” Was Rowan seriously taking off

Jeremiah’s beloved blankets? That was a declaration of war.

“Give that back.” Jeremiah grumbled, sitting up once more to

glare at his roommate. What was that guy’s problem?

“C’mon Jeremiah. We gotta hurry if we want to get ahead of

the crowd. Think of all the news reporters we won’t have to push past

later.” Rowan did have a point, but getting there earlier had several

drawbacks as well. For one, there would be less of a crowd for

Jeremiah to blend into, and he didn’t feel like getting arrested one day

after his villainous debut. More seriously though, it meant less sleep.

“If we get there, and hang out for an hour or so, will you let

me sleep for the rest of the day?” Jeremiah offered, sensing that his

roommate’s enthusiasm would know no bounds.

“Two hours?” Case in point.

“One.” Jeremiah said, voice stern, ”You can stay longer than

me, you know. Make friends with the rest of the fan-folk and whatnot.”

Which would also mean that Rowan would spend less time pestering

Jeremiah in the future. A win-win, really.

“Fine, okay. Look- just come with me to the bathing room so

we can get cleaned up,” Rowan insisted. Jeremiah stood up and folded

his bed back against the wall, “and wear something without stains or

holes, please. I want to make a good first impression.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Jeremiah was seriously regretting his

decision to introduce his roommate to the newest hero on the block as

he opened a drawer and selected his best outfit- a relatively clean polo

shirt and generic black pants.

“That?” Rowan asked. Honestly, with that kind of attitude, one

would think Rowan hadn’t rented out the cheapest possible dorm at a

city college that was literally free.

“This.” Jeremiah rolled his eyes at the button-down and dress

pants that Rowan had pulled out for himself.

The bathing room was on the second floor, which was

generally a good thing considering the outhouse was on the first floor.

It wasn’t as unsanitary as those Jeremiah had found around the Lethwei

Academic, and individual showers and baths were provided- sometimes

even free- for an allotted amount of time if you had a proper pass.

Jeremiah had the free pass, which gave him five hours of showertime

per month, while Rowan held a rather impressive twenty-five hour

pass. The bathing room was unsurprisingly empty, meaning that the

water was actually hot and if that didn’t take Jeremiah back to his

childhood then he wasn’t sure what did.

“Decent.” Rowan declared as Jeremiah emerged from the

locker room, having gotten dressed after his few moments in a steamy

haven. Perhaps he could start going down to the bathing room at

midnight more often, though the experience had been awfully taxing on

his bath card.

“I sure hope it’s decent, or you’re buying me new clothes.”

Jeremiah scoffed, following his roommate to the elevator.

“Maybe I will.” Wait, what? “Anyway, the next stop is the Sol

Undra hero office. If you can keep up with me I can make it a ten

minute walk, meaning we can still get here on time.” Jeremiah rolled

his eyes at the prospect of not keeping up with Rowan, though a few

blocks into their journey he began to realize what his roommate had

meant. Rowan’s legs were long.

About eleven minutes of the exhausting attempt to keep up

with his roommate later, the duo had reached the Sol Undra hero office,

more commonly known as the Pinnacle of the Core. The building was

tall- the tallest building in the entire world, in fact- though the hero

office part of it had actually been scaled down to just one floor. The

heroes before Optokinesis had been the ones to initiate that, though

Jeremiah wasn’t sure if that was before or after one of them had died. It

wouldn’t make sense to be done before, as the old villains of Sol Undra

were notoriously violent, hence why they had killed one of the heroes.

The fire-wielding hero.

Just thinking about it made Jeremiah fiddle with his magical

object nervously. He’d completely forgotten about that portion of

history until it had been brought up during his and his aunt’s phone

conversation the night before. Of course the villain who possessed the

magical object which allowed them to manifest and control eyes-

Optokinesis’ power- had killed the previous wielder of Jeremiah’s

magical object. His aunt had assured him that it was strictly against the

heroic code to murder people, though Jeremiah knew well enough from

the history lessons he did remember that heroes were rather apt to

violate their own code.

“It’s so beautiful.” Rowan appeared rather breathless at the

sight of the building. The lights on the ninety-ninth floor were lit and

the tallest building in the world looked even taller.

“You could say that.” There was a chance that Jeremiah’s

future murderer would be in there, and a chance that they might

recognize Jeremiah as easily as breathing, “Let’s just- where are we

supposed to go?”

“Up!” Rowan said cheerfully, grabbing Jeremiah by the hand

and leading him into the first floor the Pinnacle of the Core.

Jeremiah hadn’t been there since he’d moved out of his

parent’s house. An uncomfortably long elevator ride later, the duo

discovered that the ninety-ninth floor, like most others in such a public

building, had a door for the whole floor. Rowan tried the door, and

frowned when he discovered it was locked.

“We head home and wait for a decent hour, then?” Jeremiah

suggested, knowing perfectly well what the answer would be.

“We knock!” His roommate declared, doing just that.

There was a small pause, in which Jeremiah prayed to the Core

that there wouldn’t be anyone to answer it. As the pause stretched on,

he very nearly converted back to Coreanism. However, such prayers

were not answered. The door cracked open, and an eye peered through

the gap.

“Good morning.” They were greeted by someone who was

most definitely not Optokinesis. Jeremiah did his best not to flinch,

“What news company do you represent?”

“Um- no news company, actually.” Rowan clarified, “We’re

just civilians?”

“Just…” The person blinked, and opened the door, “Well, I

suppose you can come in. I’m fairly certain the speech said we’d only

be open to reporters.”

“Is it?” Jeremiah asked. “Only open to reporters, I mean?”

Please only be open to reporters

“Well, I suppose not,” The person crushed Jeremiah’s hopes

with a shrug, “Though I do doubt you will be able to ask any questions

above the racket the reporters have been making.” Sure enough, as

Jeremiah stepped through the door he heard the miscellaneous sounds

of at least two dozen reporters, who were on the other side of a glass

wall and crowding Opto.

“Oh.” Rowan frowned, “Well, could we ask you questions,

then?” The stranger took a brief step back.

“I- I suppose so?” They extended a hand, “I am Calvin

Deekman, Optokinesis’ assistant.”

“His… assistant?” Rowan asked, face immediately lighting up,

“Well then you should know all about them! I’m Rowan, Rowan Van

DenBurg.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Calvin said, shaking hands with

Rowan before turning to Jeremiah, “And you are?”

“Jeremiah.” He was not entirely comfortable giving his full

name to the assistant of the hero intent on putting him behind bars,

“Pleasure.” They shook hands.

“Well, what kind of questions might you have?” Calvin asked,

“There is a coffee table right along the wall there, if you’d like.” There

was, in fact, a coffee table. Jeremiah quickly stepped aside to caffenate

himself while Rowan spoke to Opto’s assistant.

“So how long have you known Optokinesis, exactly?” Rowan

asked.

“Well, I have known them for nearly a year now,” Calvin said,

“Though I am only moving into the Pinnacle of the Core next

Wednesday, and only began working for them approximately a month

ago.”

“So they already had you working for them when they planned

their debut?” Rowan asked.

“Yes.” Calvin confirmed with a nod, “They desired assistance,

I suppose.”

“And why did they scout you out, in particular?”

“I have approximately six years of experience working in the

Pinnacle of the Core,” Calvin revealed, “I actually met Optokinesis at

one of our environmental conferences.”

“I see, so…”

Alright. Jeremiah knew he was supposed to be paying

attention, because Aunt Lucy had asked him to. In his defense, though,

he was trained to tune Rowan out. In addition, everything actually

important was happening on the other side of the glass wall, and would

probably be published before the Core began to glow. Actually-

Jeremiah checked his phone- what was happening on the other side of

the glass wall was being live streamed, so there was really no reason for

Jeremiah to even be there. He sighed, and took a sip of his coffee.

In summary, Jeremiah was not paying any attention to ‘Calvin

the Assistant’. He did, however, catch that Rowan somehow swindled

the man out of a phone number, which made him vaguely concerned.

He was not ready for another Heath, thank you very much.

“Ah, I actually-” Rowan cut himself off with a yawn, “Well, I

suppose I ought to head home now, to prepare for my classes.” He held

out a hand for Calvin to shake.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Van DenBurg.” Calvin

said with a smile, taking Rowan’s hand and… oh Core. They kissed it.

Rowan’s face turned a beet red.

“I- uh-huh. Bye!” Rowan grabbed Jeremiah by the elbow and

pulled him into the elevator.

“That was remarkably awkward.” Jeremiah commented dryly

once the elevator doors closed. Rowan just rolled his eyes and looked

away. “You wanna get some coffee?” Rowan asked. What?

“We- I just had coffee?” Jeremiah said incredulously.

“Well, yeah, but I mean from a coffee shop, y’know? There’s

a really good one right here in the Pinnacle of the Core.” How did

Rowan know about a coffee shop in the Pinnacle of the Core?

“I have never ever seen you drink anything other than water.”

Jeremiah stated.

“Well, yeah, but water’s just cheaper, y’know? Besides, I

don’t have a coffee machine, nor the muscle to lug a gallon of water

from the dining hall, and the electricity bill needs to be kept down to a

minimum especially now that I’m hoping to purchase whatever new

merch Optokinesis comes out with.”

“Or pay for that bath pass.” Jeremiah said with a snort.

Somehow he doubted Rowan’s excuse, seeing as the Pinnacle of the

Core wasn’t necessarily known for its affordability.

“Well I happen to like my long showers.”

“You do realize you could just use my coffee machine right?”

Jeremiah asked, “I bring more than enough water anyway and the cost

of powering my machine goes to my portion of the bill.” Honestly,

Jeremiah found himself wishing he’d offered sooner. A tired Rowan

definitely meant a more emotional Rowan.

“Really? You’d-? Well, nevermind. The question is if you’d

like to get coffee now, seeing as we’re in the Pinnacle of the Core

anyway.”

“Sure.” Jeremiah relented, “but only if you’re buying.” There

was absolutely no way Jeremiah was going to let Rowan suck his

coffers dry just because his roommate thought it was a good idea to get

coffee twice in one morning. Not that it was a bad idea, per say, but it

was an expensive idea.

“Yes, Jeremiah, I will pay for one drink.” Rowan agreed.

“M’kay.” The elevator finally arrived.

The food court was… weird. Jeremiah had been there a few

times on the occasional Saturday when his parents decided to have

lunch after their church sessions, but he’d never felt the need to visit at

one in the morning. The food court was decorated in art that Jeremiah

vaguely remembered learning about in his art history class, but he

hadn’t remembered the art glowing. Perhaps that was something that

only happened when the Core was dimmed.

“This is it, the 23rd Floor Coffee Shop,” Rowan announced,

gesturing widely at a coffee shop in the food court. As Jeremiah

approached the empty shop with a single bored-looking barista, he was

hit by the overwhelming scent of freshly-brewed coffee.

“A bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Jeremiah noted, glancing

at the sign.

“Well, maybe a bit,” His roommate admitted, before grabbing

Jeremiah’s hand and pulling him forward, “C’mon, take a look at the

menu?” The menu wasn’t anything particularly interesting, just the

usual lineup of brews and baked goods, though Jeremiah had to admit

their hot tea selection looked a bit more diverse than many others he’d

seen around Sol Undra

“Right, and what is so special about this particular place,

exactly?” Jeremiah asked, frowning as his eyes trailed to the prices

marked. How good could their americanos possibly be to be twice the

price of the ones at any other coffee shop?

“It’s just… I thought it’d be a nice place to spend the morning,

you know? A cute little hide away with one of the cheapest views for

the Pinnacle of the Core before I return to a Heath-less world.” Ah.

Right. Jeremiah had very nearly forgotten about his roommate’s break-

up. “Cool.” Jeremiah wasn’t entirely sure what to do with such

sentimentality, “I’ll take an americano then, since you’re paying and

all.” In all honesty, the reason Jeremiah hadn’t simply turned around to

find a better coffee shop was because Rowan was paying. Though

perhaps- and just perhaps- it was nice to be dragged out to a nicer place

than he was used to.

“One americano coming up. You want anything added in? A

specific ratio?” Rowan asked. Jeremiah shook his head, and Rowan had

the decency to approach the counter without insisting he come along.

“What can I getcha?” The barista asked.

“A grande mocha frappuccino and an americano, if you’d

please.” Rowan ordered.

“M’kay. Total’s on the machine.” The barista yawned as

Rowan handed over a small fortune to pay for their drinks before

heading back to Jeremiah’s side.

“That americano better be good for what they’re charging.”

Jeremiah complained as they stood side-by-side. Rowan just laughed.

Part 6

A bank robbery. Burning down homes as they had just a

month ago hadn’t exactly paid well, especially when Sigiforal had left

behind every valuable object she’d stolen in an attempt to escape the

burning building with her life. So they were robbing a bank- albeit one

whose manager and siphoned off a great deal of money away for

herself. Jeremiah had been instructed to steal only as much money as

the manager had siphoned to send a point, though in truth Carcinoid

would likely be doing most of the actual thievery while he and Sigiforal

held a lightshow distraction in the ATM room.

“Remember Jer, we aren’t actually here for anything in the

ATMS,” Aunt Lucy’s voice was a little fuzzy over the communicators

they’d managed to steal, but he could at least tell it was her, “Paper’s

worthless here, so don’t be afraid to use some money as fuel; I know

there’s not much else.”

Lucy was right, of course. Jeremiah had only ever walked past

the fancy building- one of the two banking complexes in the entirety of

Sol Undra- as everyone he’d ever known did their banking online. It

was most frequented by employees and particularly rich people who

needed personal advice. There wasn’t much flammable decor inside,

besides a few chairs that looked deceptively cushy and a wooden table,

which all-in-all made for a poor bonfire. Unfortunately, Jeremiah would

just have to make do.

“Hands where I can see them!” Jeremiah barked at the

civilians, setting ablaze the plain puffer jacket and sweatpants he’d

worn as a disguise to get inside and raising his flaming arms. The

civilians, evidently having some survival instincts, quickly did as they

were told.

“Listen up, you better do exactly as we say or Caustel here is

going to burn every single person in this building into a potato chip,”

Sigiforal warned, before turning to a prominent-looking teller, “You! I

know you’ve got an emergency system, so you better lock all those

doors and windows, you here?” The teller promptly scampered off,

either to do as he’d been told or to leave the building screaming. The

following slam of a metal wall in front of the automatic doors behind

them told the villains all they needed to know.

“Wonderful. Glad to know at least somebody here knows how

to follow directions,” Jeremiah snarled, willing himself to look as

intimidating as possible, “Let’s hope the rest of you will follow suit.

Call everyone in this building onto this floor, got it?”

“Congregate in the center of the room, everyone,” Sigiforal

ordered, “and unlock these stupid ATMS.”

“L-like we’d listen to you!” One particularly bold and smartly

dressed person shouted as the rest obeyed Sigiforal’s orders. Jeremiah

raised an eyebrow, though he knew it wouldn’t be seen from beneath

the helmet.

“Oh really, Mx? I do believe you’re in no position to

negotiate.” Jeremiah set one of the stiff chairs ablaze, “Unless you’d

like to be new fuel for my party trick.” The person took the threat and

obeyed, though Jeremiah would have to keep a further eye on them.

“For you!” Sigiforal said with a laugh, tossing large stacks of

bills she’d taken from the freshly-opened ATMs to Jeremiah. He had to

admit, it was really cathartic to just hold bundles of cash in a single

hand and watch it all burn. Knowing all the value behind them was

liquified, it didn’t even feel wasteful.

“And what might be happening here, Caus?” A voice asked

from behind, prompting Jeremiah to turn and meet Optokinesis’ eye.

“Caus? That was the best you could come up with?” Jeremiah

asked, unimpressed by Opto’s lack of creativity.

“I mean, I’m down with calling you Stella.” The hero said

with a shrug.

“Oh Core no.” That was not happening.

“Figures so. Mind telling me why you’re single-handedly

destroying the precarious economy by inflating the value of paper

currency?” Optokinesis asked, because that absolutely made sense to

normal people.

“I’m not doing this single-handedly,” Jeremiah said, opting to

just go around the question rather than try to understand it, “My partner

here was rather upset that you left her out of your account of the last

incident.”

“Really? Well, I really must apologize. Though, given it’s

been almost a month I doubt it bothered her that much.” Optokinesis

sounded… genuine? Well, genuine as far as Jeremiah could tell. Once

again, he found Optokinesis’ lack of a face remarkably hard to read.

Granted, they did have a body, but Jeremiah wasn’t particularly good at

reading people in general, especially with Optokinesis’ ridiculous form-

concealing-

“Wait-” Full stop. The hero wasn’t seriously wearing- “a suit?

What happened to the whole… moth thing?” Jeremiah waved his arms

at Opto’s getup, feeling a bit out of the loop.

“Do you like it? The cape didn’t really work out after last time

and without it the whole outfit was just… eh.” Optokinesis explained.

Damnit. Jeremiah really couldn’t steal the cape, nor could he pull the

same trick he had before.

“It doesn’t suit you.” Sigiforal said, joining their conversation

while still throwing Jeremiah cash.

“Really? Well that’s disappointing.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be stopping us, or something?”

Jeremiah asked the hero, gesturing to the cowering civilians and the

burning pile of cash and cushions.

“Well, you’re not killing anyone, are you? And you aren’t

stealing any of that money, so the worst I’ve got to face from this is

replacing a chair and getting the board to approve the printing of some

more bills. That’s not something I’d like to beat anyone up for.”

Optokinesis was really just… something. Optokinesis was really just

something, and Jeremiah wasn’t sure he liked it.

“What makes you so sure about that?” Sigiforal asked. Oh

come on. Optokinesis was about to let them get away with it, too.

“Oh… Carcinoid’s somewhere in the building, aren’t they?”

Optokinesis asked, their eye cocking to the side, “I should have figured.

Vault level? Well, I’ll just be popping on down there then.”

“You say as if we’ll be letting you through, Opto.” Jeremiah

said with a scoff, once more lighting the flames on his arms that had

fizzled out sometime during their conversation.

“Really, Stella? Here I thought we could walk away without a

fight.” Jeremiah was once more the first to lunge, rather upset at the

use of the nickname he had refused. He swung his left leg around to

kick Opto’s ribs, hit, and came back around with a fist to the face. That

was there his luck ran out, however, as the shock from punching a

floating eye stopped him in his tracks. Was that slime? Faster than

Jeremiah could really process the movement, Opto had flipped him

onto the floor and was easily pinning him down with their foot.

“Don’t try anything, Flora, ‘cause I don’t think their armor

will do much against a well-place eye.” Was that a death threat? Did

Optokinesis just seriously threaten to kill him?

“R-right.” Sigiforal stuttered. Jeremiah wordlessly sent his

endless thanks to the villain for potentially saving his life. He did not

want to go out the same way the previous wielder of his magical object

had. “Right.” Optokinesis echoed, putting a little bit more pressure

on Jeremiah’s breastplate as if he needed a reminder not to try anything,

“Not to be as demanding as you were to your hostages, but do you

suppose you could come a bit closer? And- oh- may I have your arm?”

Sigiforal hesitantly obeyed, approaching the hero and extending her

arm. “If you hurt him, I will kill you.” She snarled protectively.

“Masculine pronouns, then?” Optokinesis asked. Well shit.

Jeremiah’s gender identity had never exactly been kept secret, but it

was another step towards Optokinesis figuring out his tentatively. The

feeling of cold metal against his wrist and a soft ‘click’ reminded him

of the dangerous situation they were in- Optokinesis had just cuffed

Jeremiah and Sigiforal together.

“Fuck off.” Jeremiah seethed eloquently.

“On the money, then,” Optokinesis said with a chuckle, “I’ll

go find your friend and reunite you all, don’t worry. Just let me…” The

hero’s voice trailed off as they crouched down and cuffed Jeremiah’s

legs as well, “Don’t want you causing anymore trouble and all.”

Optokinesis seemed to deem the restriction of one hand and

both legs good enough, as they removed their foot from Jeremiah’s

chest. Which was great for him, because Jeremiah had just practiced

throwing himself up from the floor with restrained legs at the academy.

Unfortunately, Sigiforal didn’t seem to get the message, so Jeremiah’s

attempt to use his core strength resulted in a literal flop. Core-

“Good luck with that.” There was no need for Optokinesis to

sound so smug about it, “Flora, mind giving me your other arm so I can

cuff you to this pole?”

“I most certainly would mind.” Sigiforal said, looking

properly murderous. Not that Jeremiah didn’t admire her courage, but

just because Optokinesis wasn’t actively on top of Jeremiah didn’t

mean they couldn’t kill both of the villains in a single second.

“Well maybe you should have thought about-” Optokinesis

was cut off by the soft ding which signaled the arrival of an elevator,

likely containing some of the employees from the upper floors who had

been ordered to come down.

“Don’t touch them.” Carcinoid snarled, emerging from the

elevator several moments too late.

Carcinoid, like the superior being that she was, took the whole

situation in and roundhouse kicked Optokinesis to the ground within a

few seconds. She then proceeded to split in two, using the power she

had been so diligently practicing over the past months. The second

Carcinoid retrieved a small handcuff key from Opto’s breast pocket and

unlocked the cuff connecting Jeremiah to Sigiforal while the original

did her best to keep Optokinesis on the ground.

Such efforts were in vain, of course, as even when the original

used her entire body to keep Optokinesis pinned down, they were able

to stun her with a headbutt. The second Carcinoid undid Jeremiah’s leg

restraint just as Optokinesis came to their knees, allowing Jeremiah to

do the same. He found himself more successful than the superhero as

the original Carcinoid’s temporary shock dissipated quickly enough

that she used Opto’s movement to kick them in the stomach. Sigiforal

was quick to use the fallen handcuffs on Optokinesis, and Jeremiah

picked up the leg cuffs as they struggled. He had no doubt that Opto

could have killed them all at any time, but the hero didn’t use their

magic as Jeremiah cuffed their legs.

“Three minutes till they’re out if we take the key.” Sigiforal

declared, using her power once Opto had been restrained.

“That’s a handy power,” Optokinesis remarked, “What makes

you so certain, though? Any number of these fine civilians might have a

paper clip.” While that was a clever thought, Sigiforal simply scoffed.

“Oh they do, but even the most competent of these folks

doesn’t know how to pick a lock.”

“Better start explaining now, then,” Optokinesis decided,

turning their head to the crowd of remarkably scared civilians, “Can

somebody bring me a paperclip?” The rebel from before hurried up to

the commotion, a little box of paperclips already in hand.

“Lets go,” The original Carcinoid suggested, “Three minutes

to get what I’ve collected out of the building.” Right, it was a time limit

for them. Jeremiah handed the cuff key to Carcinoid, who put it in her

pocket. Carcinoid gestured to the three bags she’d left just outside of

the elevator, each containing various stolen goods. Each bag was…

remarkably heavy. Heavy enough that Jeremiah wondered how

Carcinoid could carry all three at once, until he remembered that

Carcinoid was simply the superior being. Supposedly the content of all

three bags would be exactly equivalent to the amount embezzled,

though Jeremiah doubted Optokinesis would do anything other than

guestimate the total value of the stolen goods.

“So long, kinnie.” Sigiforal had composed her rebuttal to

Opto’s teasing nick-names, though all she got in return as they walked

out the door was a laugh.

“We should probably run now.” Carcinoid advised as they

began the march to a transformation safe-house, though the advice was

useless. They could all hear the sirens in the distance. Jeremiah

promptly ran.

Part 7

“Is this just going to become a thing, now?” Rowan asked as

Jeremiah entered their small dorm.

“Is what going to become a thing?”

“The thing where you just come home late every time I have

love problems.” Rowan complained. To be fair, it wasn’t like Jeremiah

wanted to. He’d just started staying at his aunt’s later- that time because

they were sorting the spoils of their victory- and Rowan nearly always

had love problems.

“Who?” Heath hadn’t come back, had he? It had been about a

month since they’d broken up, so that probably wouldn’t make sense.

Hopefully. Calvin? Optokinesis’ little assistant had been flirting back

and forth with Rowan for nearly the same amount of time- had they

done something?

“It-it’s silly, sorry.” Rowan turned his face away as Jeremiah

sat down next to him, eyes a bit puffy and cheeks already glistening

with tears, “I don’t- he’s nice but I’m just… not ready yet.”

“Calvin?” Jeremiah asked. Option number two, then.

“They tried to- uh- ask me out on a date, but- well, I just got

dumped a month ago. I mean- only a month! I don’t want… I don’t

want this to be a rebound.” Well. Apparently Rowan had somehow

grown as a person over the last six hours to know that a guy he met

literal hours after his breakup was not prime relationship material, “But

I don’t want him to think I’m leading him on, either, but anyways I

said… I said no.”

“And they-?” Jeremiah pressed, trying to figure out what

Calvin had done to prompt Rowan’s tears.

“He was really understanding.” Rowan sniffed miserably,

“That’s the problem, though. Calvin said they’d be willing to just be

friends and that I could talk to them if I ever needed help and I- I just

don’t know what to do with that.”

“Oh.” So Optokinesis’ assistant had shown Jeremiah’s

roommate basic human decency, and Rowan didn’t know what to do

with it. It wasn’t surprising that Optokinesis would find a personal

assistant with just as much annoying emotional maturity.

“And it really sucks, because they’re just so nice and they’ve

got even better eyes- eye- than Optokinesis and I think I really like

them, and-” Rowan rambled as Jeremiah slowly zoned out. Rowan’s

feelings were valid, yes, and Jeremiah would probably feel some level

of regret later, but Jeremiah’s general need to be anywhere else was

also valid.

Part 8

Jeremiah had made up his mind. Brunel Irekes, the hope and

heir to the Irekes Foundation, was, without a doubt, the most irritating

person he had ever had the misfortune of encountering. How the actual

Core had that oddball managed to track down his aunt’s apartment?

Standing on the sidewalk outside his Aunt Lucy’s building,

Jeremiah gazed down at the man who single-handedly embodied all of

his introverted nightmares, engaged in conversation with his aunt’s

downstairs neighbor on their balcony. Perhaps Jeremiah’s parents had

been right all along- maybe the Core truly did watch over everyone,

doling out divine retribution to those who failed to attend church. Was

his current predicament a result of his villainous activity, his theft of

shower credits from Rowan that very morning, or his abysmal grade in

Interpersonal Communication? What could he have possibly done to

deserve such a fate?

“Jeremiah?” Brunel called down, seemingly having just

noticed his ex-chemistry tutor. Whatever it was, it was bad.

“Hey, Brunel.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Brunel commented, and

Jeremiah couldn’t hold back his reflexive scoff.

“I didn’t exactly expect to see you here, either.” He retorted,

craning his neck down to face the high-schooler head-on, “What’s up?”

“You.” Oh Core. A long time ago Jeremiah had promised

himself he’d strangle the skinny child if he ever heard another one of

those stupid replies. It looked like Caustel was getting a body count,

“I’m hanging out with one of my friends. You?” Brunel Irekes had

friends? The guy was a- Oh, wait. Yeah, Brunel’d probably found some

poor stranger to call his ‘friend’ for as long as they put up with it. Day,

though Jeremiah knew her for nothing but building parties, was likely

Brunel’s latest victim.

“I’m visiting my aunt.”

“Lucy? She lives in this building?” Brunel asked, before

shuffling out of sight, an action which was followed by the scuffling of

papers and a few muttered curses that Jeremiah couldn’t help but hear,

before popping out again, “Why don’t you come on up? Day and I had

no idea that her Lucy was your Lucy.” Absolutely not. Jeremiah was

never attending one of his ex-tutee’s stupid tea party picnics ever again.

He’d only ever gone to one out of pity.

“No.”

“I’ve got some ham sandwiches we could-”

“On my way.” Was it a bad decision? Oh most definitely,

Jeremiah was supposed to be at a villainy meeting soon. Was Jeremiah

making it anyways? Unfortunately so. Those ham sandwiches were the

best. They were the only reason he’d kept tutoring Brunel after the first

month of actual torture. That and the money.

“Heyo.” One elevator ride and a thousand regrets later, Brunel

greeted Jeremiah right at the elevator door. Standing next to him was

Day, one of Aunt Lucy’s many neighbors who Jeremiah had

successfully avoided meeting, until then.

“Hi.” He said awkwardly.

“It’s nice to formally meet you, Jeremiah,” Day greeted,

extending a hand for him to shake, “Your aunt talks about you a lot, but

I never really put two and two together. I’m Day; she/her/hers, if you’d

please.” Oh wonderful, she’d already heard about him.

“Jeremiah; he/him/his.” Jeremiah shook Day’s hand.

“Do you visit your aunt often?” Day asked, cocking her head

ever-so-slightly.

“Yeah. I visit her on Saturdays usually, but she asked me to

come over.” For the villainy-planning meeting which Jeremiah was

now late to.

“Then it makes sense that you and Brunel never saw earth

other.” Day concluded, flashing an obnoxious pearly white grin and

bumping shoulders with Brunel, “He comes to my place on Tuesdays

after school.” Was it a regular thing? How long had this been going on?

Would it happen again?

“I see,” Jeremiah looked around, as if glancing around in

search of an exit. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Day, but- ah- my

aunt’s probably-” He took a step backwards.

“Sandwiches, remember?” Behind Jeremiah, and knowing

perfectly well what he was doing, was Brunel. Jeremiah shot a pleading

look at Day, though he was beginning to doubt that she was a fellow

victim. “You can invite her up too, if you’d like.” Day said with

another smile. Was she… oh dear, were they working together?

“I’ve really only got a little bit of time here.” An absolute lie,

of course, “Can I take a sandwich to go?”

“Oh absolutely! I’ll just bring one from the kitchen then.”

Core be blessed.

“That’d be great.” Jeremiah said with a nod as Brunel turned

to enter Day’s apartment.

“So… what grade are you in?” Day asked as the door to her

apartment closed behind Brunel. Jeremiah blinked.

“I’m in college.” Everyone was just struggling to get by all the

same. Jeremiah had assumed that Brunel would’ve told Day as such,

but perhaps she was just being polite.

“Oh. Cool.” Ah yes, peak communication skills. Well, he

couldn’t have done much better, “What’s your major?” Alright, Brunel

had definitely weaseled Jeremiah’s intended major from him at one

point or another. Day was just being ‘polite’.

“Forensics.”

“Hm.” Oh fine. Two could play that game.

“What do you do for work?” Jeremiah asked in his best ‘I’m

trying to be polite but I hate this’ voice.

“I’m retired, actually.” Wait- what?

“What?” She hardly looked any older than his Aunt Lucy, who

was in her early forties. Most people retired in their seventies, and that

was if they were lucky.

“I got off on disability.” Evidently she had sensed his

confusion. Jeremiah did his best to discreetly look her up and down.

Evidently the disability wasn’t a physical one, but who was he to

judge? “Oh. The pension good?” He asked awkwardly. Day laughed

lightly. “Yeah, I suppose it is.” Granted, she lived in the same building

as Lucy. That is- one on the very outskirts of town with old cement

stairways that hadn’t been rebuilt since the Pinnacle of the Core had

burned down. Lucy barely made a living.

“Huh.” Well, still, it was Sol Undra. Rosali was generally

regarded as the best retirement city, but it had a far lower quality of life.

“Ham sandwiches for you and your aunt.” Brunel appeared in

the doorway, two sandwich halves carefully and individually wrapped

in plastic. Rich people’s obsession with itty-bitty portions was… weird,

but Jeremiah would be more than happy to eat Lucy’s portion for her.

She was vegetarian, afterall.

“Thank you.” What? He could be polite, “It was… nice seeing

you.” Sometimes. Jeremiah didn’t bother sticking around for Brunel’s

poor attempt at stalling, turning around and entering the elevator.

“Bye, Jeremiah! Enjoy your-” The elevator door cut off

Brunel’s farewell, and Jeremiah released a long breath.

Well, at least he had the ham sandwiches.

“And why are you late, Jeremiah?” Cassandra asked, arms

folded over her chest as Lucy swung open the door.

“Apparently my aunt’s neighbor is frequently visited by

Brunel.” Was Jeremiah a little upset that his Aunt Lucy hadn’t caught

on and warned him? Perhaps. Then again, nobody was perfect, not even

his aunt.

“Brunel? Like- your Brunel? I wasn’t aware of that.” His

Brunel? Oh no no no, Jeremiah took no responsibility for the upper

year. “Well, I just got roped into visiting him for a minute. That’s

like- a solid sixty seconds.” A solid sixty seconds of pain and more pain

and pain on the side.

“You what?” Which Aunt Lucy, saint that she was, knew.

“Wait- who’s Brunel?” Poor, innocent Cassandra.

“Why would you even do that, though?” Lucy had met Brunel

once- and only once- when she’d had to pick Jeremiah up from their

tutoring session at the Irekes Tower.

“Don’t look at me! You know how he does things!” Which

was, of course, a lie. Jeremiah had been lured in by the very sandwiches

in his hands. When Brunel had met Lucy, he had ultimately convinced

her that the Breeze was controlled by gravity, that there was a fourth

member of the Verojas Trio, and that the Keeper was actually an

organic recreation of an extinct animal before she could be saved and

brought back to common sense.

“Brunel Irekes, Cass.” Aunt Lucy informed the confused

woman.

“Oh shit, the cryptid?” Yeah, that one. Despite being the son

of two incredibly famous people- and quite possibly the richest people

in the entire world- and honestly the most memorably detestable person

Jeremiah had ever met, Brunel only had about two articles about him

floating around the internet. The fact that Cassandra had seen even one

of them was honestly a miracle.

“Oh Core, my poor neighbor.” Except Day hadn’t seemed

quite as uncomfortable around Brunel as anyone sane would have been.

She almost seemed to be his accomplice, which was impossible but

then again retirement could make anyone lonely. Lonely enough to

throw building parties.

“Wait a second- you two know Brunel Irekes?” Cassandra

asked. “That’s a story for another time, I’m afraid.” Right. Right.

Jeremiah wasn’t at his aunt’s apartment for a social call. The three of

them were there to discuss important plans for future villainy, “We

should attack the Central Water Reserve next.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jeremiah couldn’t help but gasp at his

aunt’s recommendation. Everyone in the city of Sol Undra needed that

water to survive. Their city was even in the lead for having the highest

base water rations, as it had been for nearly six decades- since the days

of Wrath and Peirein.

“Aren’t water reforms not that big of a deal anymore?”

Cassandra asked, clearly not seeing the bigger issue.

“I’m afraid that’s the problem. Our base water rations haven’t

changed since Wrath passed the Universal Life Bill, but the amount of

water in the reserve has. In addition, all of the water in the city can only

be picked up in that one place. People on the outskirts have to travel

miles to pick up their weekly ration cards, which will often be deducted

by the fee it costs to transport the water to them.”

“That doesn’t mean we can plunge the city into drought!”

Jeremiah exclaimed. His aunt was making some decent points, but her

plan had a very, very fatal flaw.

“We wouldn’t actually.” Aunt Lucy said with a small smile,

“The city of Sol Undra has a back-up water reserve that could provide

rations to everyone in the city for thirty days. It’s designed so that

everyone will survive a disaster until they can fix and restock the

Central Water Reserve.” That was… actually remarkably useful.

“They don’t teach you that in school.” Cassandra remarked,

looking positively pleased. Jeremiah frowned- he didn’t like where that

was going. They weren’t going to attack the emergency reserves too,

were they?

“No, we’re only hitting the Central Water Reserve,” Aunt

Lucy chided lightly, “Really, we should only aim to drain the reserve

half-way.”

“Not a lot of time for precision.” Jeremiah pointed out.

Actually controlling the flames was a still a feat that remained out of

his grasp, and working against a natural fire deterrent would surely

make things more difficult, “You do realize that the Central Water

Reserve is right next to the Pinnacle of the Core?”

“I do. It’ll only make our attack more meaningful, even if

Optokinesis gets there to stop us earlier. We’ll hit it on Saturday- right

when the Pinnacle of the Core is busiest.” Of course, Jeremiah had his

hesitations about being within a one mile radius of the Pinnacle of the

Core during Saturday Mass, but his aunt had a good point. The

confusion would most certainly make their attack more effective.

“How are we even going to drain the Central Water Reserve?

Jeremiah might be a decent frontline fighter, but fire isn’t going to do

much against a huge metal container of water.” A decent frontline

fighter? He was their only frontline fighter, thank you very much.

“Easy. Jer and one of my clones will just serve as distractions

while you and I bust the rooftop valves. The water will go straight

towards the midspace, making it easier to collect later and ensuring that

it won’t interfere with the fighting on the ground.”

Rowan would have to go without his extra long showers for a

while, but all in all it was a decent plan. Jeremiah was always bothered

by the fact that Sol Undra’s policy of one gallon per person per day was

both subject to change and considered the height of luxury around the

world. By always bothered he meant since a single school trip to the

Central Water Reserve and then whenever he was reminded of it in

passing, so perhaps that was why Lucy had chosen it as one of their

projects.

“So we’ll meet here at first light on Saturday to set out?” Aunt

Lucy suggested.

“Then we have a plan.” Jeremiah held back his desire to roll

his eyes at Cassandra’s statement.

“Barely. How do you expect me to fend off Optokinesis when

I’ve legitimately never succeeded before?” Optokinesis was just too

good at what they did, and it showed.

“I suppose you’ll have to get better then.” Aunt Lucy said with

a shrug, “I can talk to Urich about training you two days a week when I

see him later.” Two days a week? Did she somehow think that would

prepare him better for a battle that Saturday?

“You could always practice setting fire to random things.”

Cassandra suggested. Jeremiah blinked in bewilderment. There was

absolutely no way he was just going to be casually playing with fire in

Optokinesis’ city. It was one thing to be judged by his aunt when he

accidentally burned something to ashes, and quite another to be arrested

by the hero of the city.

“Yeah, no.”

“I don’t think that would be the best idea.” His aunt agreed,

“but he could train with you, Cass. You work remotely, so it shouldn’t

be too hard to keep an eye on him while you’re doing that.” An eye on

him? Jeremiah was not a misbehaving dog, thank you very much.

“Uh- I mean- I suppose so?” Cassandra looked remarkably

uncomfortable with the idea. Frankly, Jeremiah felt the same. As it was,

though, he barely had a chance to practice with Lucy outside of actual

battles and had been vaguely jealous when Cassandra increased her

visions to one hour into the future and Lucy gained the ability to make

four working versions of herself.

“That could work.” Regardless of his qualms with the woman,

Jeremiah really needed the extra practice.

“Just message to see if I’m home, but I rarely leave the house

so you can probably stop by anytime.” Oh wonderful, flexibility.

Jeremiah had a habit of procrastinating when given the chance, so he

needed to set a time quickly and definitively.

“Can I come by tomorrow afternoon?” Not specific enough,

“Two or so?” That should give him enough time to complete his

homework.

“Yeah.”

“Wonderful,” Aunt Lucy clapped her hands together,

“Remember, Jer, you just have to get good enough to hold Optokinesis

off for half an hour or so.” A half hour? Yeah, he was going to need

that extra practice, even if he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Part 9

“Jer, I talked to Calvin again.” Rowan was already on the

couch when Jeremiah got back to their shared dorm, sprawled out and

ready for another routine session of complaining.

“And?”

“We’re going to Der Verde on Friday.” Apparently the whole

rejecting Calvin thing couldn’t last more than a month, though Jeremiah

wasn’t particularly surprised- Rowan hadn’t stopped talking about

them. Seriously, he just hadn’t stopped.

“Cool.” Did that mean Jeremiah could get free coffee? Maybe

a couple of office supplies stolen from the Pinnacle of the Core? Inside

information about Optokinesis?

Yeah… probably not.

“It’s really cool, actually. We’re going to be visiting one of the

gardens they have out there, and supposedly they’ve got some cool

plant that only-” Jeremiah zoned out as he got a notification.

‘Gear up. We’re going to a BBQ party on Friday @noon and

Urich scheduled you for Thursday.’ Apparently he was booked for

Friday, too. Thursday, though? That was just cruel.

Part 10

So… a barbeque party. Needless to say, that was not how

Jeremiah had imagined his Saturday afternoon to play out. His former

‘student’ was in one corner, a bunch of people he only vaguely knew

from walking past them in hallways in the next, and his beloved aunt

was nowhere to be seen. After revealing that she’d dragged him to

Day’s latest building party- and that he’d been personally invited and

there wasn’t really anything she could do to help- Aunt Lucy had

basically just dumped him by the utensils. Social events had never

really been his thing, even at the church where he knew pretty much

everyone and particularly in a stranger’s apartment surrounded by other

strangers.

So there he was, next to the plastic forks and knives with a cup

of punch, trying to determine if punch was really all it was. Even if it

wasn’t, what really was the worst that could happen? Well, besides

getting arrested for underage drinking or something like that. Or Day

being arrested for allowing a minor to drink alcohol at her party- that

would be bad as well. Or his Aunt Lucy getting arrested for allowing

the minor under her care to drink alcohol at a party. Perhaps not, then,

though people might find it odd if he stood longer than necessary

without taking a single sip. Not that anyone would specifically be

watching him, of course, but-

“That’s just punch, you know?” Jeremiah froze at the awfully

familiar voice. Apparently someone was specifically watching him. “I

can practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

“It’s been a while.” Jeremiah noted, opting to take a sip and

only feeling somewhat surprised when he didn’t taste anything out of

the ordinary.

“Not really, though.” Brunel’s laugh was just the same as it’d

ever been- breathy and awkward in a way that made Jeremiah just

generally uncomfortable.

“You know what I mean.”

“I suppose I must.” A pause. Jeremiah knew better than to

allow for a pause, but after such a long time he’d fallen out of practice

with coming up with painful small-talk. “I heard you went to court for a

senior prank.”

“I did.” Oh, joy. Brunel always knew the best topics to bring

up after two years of glorious absence.

“What was the prank?” Jeremiah briefly glanced around the

party, though he was once more unsuccessful in locating his aunt.

Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anyone listening in on their

conversation.

“A stink bomb.” He answered. Brunel hummed.

“That’s terribly off-brand.” It was, wasn’t it? “I suppose those

kids you hung out with put you up to it, then,” The hair on the back of

Jeremiah’s neck stood up. “Why’d you have to go to court?”

“The teacher smoked.” Hopefully Brunel would put two and

two together. Though, if Jeremiah was being honest, he really just

hoped that Brunel had magically gained some social awareness and

wouldn’t follow-up again.

“Oh.” Another pause, and thus another opportunity for Brunel

to analyze Jeremiah for weakness. Core damnit. “Has Lucy left you too,

then?” “Too?” If Jeremiah could just get Brunel to talk about himself,

he would be somewhat safe.

“She and Day have been talking by themselves for the past

thirty minutes.” Well, it was lovely to know that the two were getting

along- perhaps Jeremiah’s aunt could even show Day the benefits of

befriending anyone other than Brunel. Respectfully, though, if Aunt

Lucy was going to drag Jeremiah to a barbeque party against his will

only to talk to the host the entire time, he was leaving. “I wouldn’t

disturb them if I were you.”

“Okay.” Since when had Brunel been Jeremiah, though?

Jeremiah had a lot of math that he needed to complete before Sunday

and plans that would take up the most of Saturday.

Lucy was, as promised, right next to Day on the patio. Day

was operating the barbeque to cook the burgers that had been foretold

in the invitation, and Lucy was mixing a bowl of what appeared to be

deviled eggs.

“Really? I knew the annual conference was pretty bad, but

that’s just messed up.” They were talking politics.

“Mhm. We have all the resources for virtual ones at

undisclosed times, we just don’t use them.” It seemed like Lucy had

finally found yet another person to talk to about society’s injustices.

“And with that much money for repairs on the line? Core, I

knew it was a lot but those statistics.” Day appeared to be having a

crisis of sorts.

“Oh, Jer, I just noticed you there.” Lucy set down the bowl

and turned to Jeremiah, “Did you need something?”

“I’m leaving.” No point in beating around the bush.

“But food hasn’t even been served yet.” Day said with a

frown, waving her spatula in the air, “I’m making hamburgers.” Well,

yes, he could see that.

“This is a building party, is it not? I don’t live in your

building.” He made eye contact with Lucy before making his next

point, “and my aunt doesn’t really need me here for anything.”

Jeremiah had thought they could at least serve as emotional support for

one another, but nooo. Apparently his aunt had been one of the

organizers of the event.

“You’ve only been here for half an hour, Jer,” Lucy rolled her

eyes, “Surely it isn’t that bad.” Jeremiah blinked. Considering his prior

conversation with Brunel? It really was that bad.

“It’s all good, Lucy.” Day said, turning back to her

hamburgers, “Not everyone is a-okay with large social gatherings like

this.” She was pitying him, how wonderful. Well, if it would get him

out of the party he would take it.

“Fine, fine. Go back to your hole, if you must.”

“Thank you. Goodbye.” This was great, honestly. Rowan

wouldn’t be at the dorm for the day, and Jeremiah had just purchased

the latest edition of Hunting Syndrome.

Part 11

“Leaving so soon?” This. This was the reason Jeremiah didn’t

believe in Coreanism. Surely if some benevolent being was watching

over them all, they would have the good sense to ensure Jeremiah

would not run into Brunel on his way out.

“Yes.”

“Did you see how well Lucy and Day are getting along?”

Again with that? Had Brunel been worried that Day wouldn’t get along

with other people for some reason?

“Yes?” His reply unfortunately came out a bit like a question.

Big mistake. Brunel’s eyes lit up.

“I think they’re going to be friends! Isn’t that great?” Well,

yeah, but what did that have to do with stopping him as he was just

trying to leave?

It was then that Jeremiah realized the implications of Lucy and

Day’s friendship. He’d have to see Brunel more. It didn’t really seem

too life-threatening until Jeremiah remembered just who Brunel was. If

Day and Lucy were friends, Brunel was going to start expecting all four

of them to meet up at least once a month- potentially at more building

parties. If Day and Lucy were friends, Brunel was going to get an

excuse to ask weird and personal questions about Jeremiah. If Day and

Lucy were friends, Jeremiah would have to be friendly to Brunel.

“Oh shit.” Oh no. Oh Core no. He didn’t care what it took, he

was going to be ripping those two away from one another. His life was

on the line!

“I’m so glad that Day’s finally made another friend.” Brunel’s

shit-eating grin widened deviously. Theoretically, if Day could connect

with Lucy enough to realize just how Brunel was, she could unfriend

him. That was unlikely though- Brunel had evidently sunk his claws

deep, and separating them would probably take more time than

Jeremiah was willing to put in. Day and Lucy, on the other hand, were

significantly less close.

“I have to get home, Brunel.” Jeremiah had to plot out his

grand master plan for making Day and Lucy stay acquaintances. If

worst came to worst he could try to make them enemies, but they

happened to live in the same building. Being enemies with a building-

partner just made everything inconvenient.

“Oh, alright. Have a lovely afternoon.”

“You too.” Jeremiah responded on instinct, instantaneously

cursing the way he had been trained to be polite. He most certainly did

not want Brunel to have a lovely afternoon.

Who even wished someone a ‘lovely afternoon?’ Lovely was

such a weird adjective, particularly when describing a period of time. A

person wouldn't describe a decade as ‘lovely’ would they? So why

should anyone describe an afternoon as such? It was just a tad

ridiculous, and perfectly Brunel-esque.

Part 12

“Do you want to hear about my date with Calvin?” No,

absolutely no.

“Are you going to tell me?” Jeremiah very purposely did not

pause his game.

“Well, it was the best thing ever. You know how we were

going to see the ukenmedil flower?” Jeremiah decided not to answer,

too engrossed in completing his analysis of the virtual crime scene.

“Well, everyone had to go in and out in rotations, and the flower totally

bloomed right as we walked in. Calvin got the whole thing on video,

and it was just amazing.”

“Amazing.” Jeremiah echoed, sorting through the evidence

that he had collected thus far. His prime suspect was Togume Hart, who

had ‘mysteriously disappeared’ earlier in the game. At first he’d

thought that she had been killed, but all the evidence seemed to point

towards her being Emma’s killer. All that was left was to play through

a couple of minigames and file his case report.

“Then, because apparently Optokinesis pays like- really well-

we headed to this really cool shell n’ soft place where we shared a big

lobster with some sashimi.”

“Oh?” Jeremiah clicked on the final piece of evidence he had

to collect, and started putting together the puzzle that was required of

him to investigate it.

“We talked about all kinds of stuff. Like- apparently on the

side he’s been getting his degree in politics online. Right now he’s all

lined up to basically take over most of the Pinnacle of the Core

whenever Optokinesis decides to retire.”

“Very nice.” Jeremiah completed his puzzle and glanced

through the evidence file. A… handprint? Wait, no, it was missing a

finger. The middle-finger, to be precise. Wasn’t there, like, an actual at-

large serial killer IRL who left that on the scene of their crimes?

“But anyways, the topic of course ended up on heroes, and

apparently Calvin grew up in Der Verde with Melody and Taco. And

apparently he’s been helping Optokinesis basically steal Taco’s ideas

and getting credit for them.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, which I told him was totally unfair, because

Optokinesis’ policies are a lot more refined than Taco’s.” Hunting

Syndrome 17 was based off of a real serial killer's first few hits? How

was he supposed to find the culprit then? The in-game culprit would

obviously be different than the living culprit, because nobody had

found the IRL culprit for sixty years.

Meaning, of course, that the game was utter bullcrap. How

could Jeremiah feel the satisfaction of solving the murder mystery

when he wasn’t actually solving it? How could he solve Sarah

McKinnely’s murder when Alvarice Morenburg had actually

legitimately died? How could he convict someone in the game when

they were legitimately innocent and the real ‘Hand of God’ was still on

the loose?

“Great Core.” Jeremiah glanced away from the article and

towards the game’s pause screen, trying to wrap his head around the

fact that his favorite character so far was based on a really-real dead

person. “But then we started talking about it some more and I managed

to convince him that since Optokinesis had credited Taco at every turn,

really it’s just the fact that Der Verde’s other hero, Melody, is so

against the policies that Optokinesis has even been accused of stealing

ideas.” Rowan was completely oblivious or uncaring of Jeremiah’s

clear emotional breakdown. It was weird for the roles to be reversed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So it was totally great and we scheduled to meet up

next Saturday as well. Next time we’re both going to Verojas to check

out the rebellious other side of the world.” Rowan finished with a grin.

“Hey, is that Hunting Syndrome 17? I heard the writers of that edition

worked with Peirein, so I’ve been meaning to check it out.”

“Don’t.” Rowan was overly emotional as it was. He didn’t

need to get attached to fictional-not-fictional characters in the way

Jeremiah did. It would only make them more similar, which was all-in-

all something Jeremiah wanted to avoid.

“Oh? Is it bad or something?” Right. Of course he was

expecting some elaboration.

“No. It’s just a murder mystery based on actual people, so I

don’t think you’d like it much.”

“Fair enough.” Rowan accepted his explanation with a shrug,

“How was the BBQ party with your aunt?”

Oh. Oh shit. Jeremiah had completely forgotten about his

predicament regarding Lucy and Day’s budding friendship. He had

loaded into the game with the intention of only completing one hour of

it before switching to scheming, but the characters had sucked him too

far in. He was stuck with absolutely no plans- no ideas, even- for

making sure Lucy and Day never hung out again. How was he

supposed to do that when he was going through a crisis of his own?

“I have to find a way to ensure that Lucy and Day don’t ever

hang out ever again.” Jeremiah admitted. Rowan was annoying, sure,

but he was technically a psychology major. Did any of those courses

teach how to start conflict?

“Oh. Was it bad?” Was it bad? Would Jeremiah be admitting

that he needed help if it wasn’t bad?

“Yes.” Absolutely.

“Have you ever considered that you’re just jealous that your

aunt has somebody else to talk to?” Oh of course Rowan had taken the

opportunity to analyze Jeremiah’s issues.

“No. Day hangs out with Brunel, and if Lucy and Day hang

out it means I have to hang out with Brunel.” Which was not

happening, because Jeremiah was seriously considering getting his

headstone an electric fence and a guard to ensure that Brunel could

never ever speak to him, even if he was dead.

“You could just… not?” Apparently ‘Brunelness’ wasn’t

taught in those classes.

“No. No I couldn’t. You don’t know Brunel. He’ll find a

way.” Brunel was the type of person to ‘accidentally’ bump into you in

a grocery store and proceed to talk your ear off for an hour. Jeremiah

should know- as it happened to him not once but three times.

“Alright… and who are we talking about?” Jeremiah had

almost forgotten that Rowan (thankfully) did not know as much about

Jeremiah as Jeremiah knew about him. That included his time with one

Brunel Irekes.

“Someone really, really extroverted and also a conspiracy

theorist.” Rowan nodded dutifully at Jeremiah’s answer, as if he

understood the mortification that came from any interaction with

Brunel. “Okay, so you make sure your aunt and Day don’t find

anything to talk about.” As if it were that simple.

“Too late.” Their time together at the party didn’t even

account for the parties before, nor for the fact that they’d set up the

party somehow, which likely involved some amount of communication.

“So you need to make sure they don’t have any time to hang

out. Your aunt’s already pretty busy with her job, isn’t she? Whenever

she’s not at work, you can be with her, and then she won’t have any

time for Day.” That wasn’t necessarily a bad plan, but Jeremiah didn’t

exactly have any control over Aunt Lucy’s schedule.

“I’m not sure that would work.” Jeremiah admitted, “I’m pretty

busy this semester.” He had also just begun a new Hunting Syndrome

game, all of which were fairly famous for over a hundred hours of

storyline gameplay.

“Then… I mean… I’m fairly unbusy, probably maybe? I

could… I mean, when I’m not hanging out with Calvin I could babysit

your aunt for you.”

“You’d what?” Was Rowan… really willing to do that? That

was a little weird, if Jeremiah was being honest.

“I mean, what are best friends for if not to get behind your

frankly ridiculous anti-social and/or social schemes?” Rowan asked.

They were not friends, but Jeremiah wasn’t going to tell Rowan

that after they’d just volunteered to help him.

Part 13

“Hey, Jer. Shall we go in?” Jeremiah’s aunt was waiting

outside of Dawit’s Verojas Cuisine.

“Sure.” They walked into the restaurant, the same way they had

every first Sunday of the year since Jeremiah was seven.

“Good afternoon. For Clarke?” The receptionist asked.

“Yes.” Aunt Lucy said, nodding and gracefully allowing

Jeremiah to avoid conversation.

“Right this way, please.” A waiter appeared to the side of the

desk and picked up two menus before guiding them to a recently

cleaned table, “Can I get you two anything to drink?”

“An apple juice, please.” Lucy requested. Apple juice was a

suitable choice, especially considering the fact that no restaurants were

allowed to serve water in light of the Central Water Reserve situation.

However, the new prices on beverages scared Jeremiah a bit.

“Nothing for me.” He couldn’t really imagine paying that much

for apple juice.

“Alright, then. I’ll be right out with your apple juice.” The

waiter noted their orders and scurried off to another table, leaving Lucy

and Jeremiah alone.

“So… “ He began, trying to find a good place to start their

conversation, “That attack, huh?”

“That attack.” Lucy agreed, “I think the villains should’ve

waited until after our yearly visit to Dawit’s.”

“Oh absolutely.” Their tradition had not been taken into

account when they drained the Central Water Reserve.

“I also think that Caustel should have actually gone and

practiced fire magic more than just the once.” Jeremiah winced at his

aunt’s jab. He’d certainly thought about practicing his magic, but he

just hadn’t gotten around to texting Cassandra.

“I’m sure he’s very sorry?” He most certainly was. Jeremiah’s

insufficient control of his fire had led to the premature

decommissioning of Carcinoid’s clone.

“I’m sure he’s already forgiven.” Lucy assured him, “Besides,

regardless of unnecessary property damage he did manage to keep

Optokinesis from interfering with Carcinoid’s dastardly plot.” That he

had. Optokinesis had been forced to generate a new top hat three

different times. It was rather hilarious, actually.

“Though who would have guessed that the Central Water

Reserve would have that many trained guards not on the city’s official

payroll? I suppose it makes sense- but still! We haven’t had villains in

decades!” It was frankly ridiculous that they’d go that far to hide guards

from villains which had been absent for two decades. Lucy nodded.

“It was quite a surprise. It’s thanks to them that the villains had

to drain the reserve from the bottom rather than from the top, which

caused a bit of flooding throughout the building.” The flooding had

been ridiculously inconvenient for when Caustel had been called into

the building to help the others escape.

“That flooding certainly helped slow Caustel down when he

tried to assist the getaway. Fire and water is practically a tale as old as

time. Those guards certainly knew what they were doing.” Those

guards had also given him a patchwork of bruises and nearly broke his

arm.

“So it’s unfortunate that the villains were clearly trained in

martial arts, though perhaps next time they should get more training in

crowd control.” Aunt Lucy suggested. Jeremiah seriously doubted that

any amount of training could prepare him for fighting twenty fully-

armored guards armed with lasers, but who was he to judge?

“I wonder where those guards store and train with all those

weapons.” He mused. Perhaps where it was could be the next target for

their attack.

“I think they have their training center in the Pinnacle of the

Core.” That was a big nope, then. Attacking a building next to the

Pinnacle of the Core had been tough, so Jeremiah didn’t even want to

imagine what attacking the building itself would look like.

“Oh wow, that’s pretty impressive. Do you suppose-”

“I have your apple juice for you.” The waiter had returned, “Do

you know what you’d like to order or would you like a little more

time?”

“I think we’re ready.” Aunt Lucy said, making eye contact with

Jeremiah, who nodded, “Alright, I’d like your vegetarian risotto with

asparagus, please.” The waiter marked Aunt Lucy’s order down on

their little notepad.

“And I’d like the aelmeran pan noodles, please.” The price

wasn’t… too bad. Besides, with any luck his order would include

enough food for some leftovers. The dorm building kitchens had

practically gone into a full lock-down.

“I’ll have those right out for you, then.” The waiter assured

them before scuttling off once more.

“I’ll get to the point, Jeremiah,” Aunt Lucy said, turning to

Jeremiah with her eyebrows furrowed. Wait- what? What point? “Have

you been sending your roommate to intercept Day and I?”

“Um, what?” He could play dumb. He was quite good at being

dumb, so playing it couldn’t really be that hard. Right?

“This past week, every time I have tried to so much as message

Day, your roommate has waltzed into my apartment and started talking

to me about every little thing. Which you can imagine is rather

inconvenient, as I often have projects scattered on my counters.”

Villainous projects, no doubt. Oh dear. Rowan wasn’t very subtle, was

he?

“I’ll talk to him about that?”

“I’m sure you have.” Aunt Lucy’s eyes narrowed, “And when

we tried to go out for lunch, do you know who was poorly attempting to

hide in the bushes?” Oh dear Core.

“In the bushes?” Was Rowan stupid, or something?

“Jeremiah, just because I’m hanging out with Day doesn’t

mean that you have to hang out with Brunel.”

“Yes it does! You don’t know Brunel.” She’d only talked to

him once or twice, really. “He’ll find any possible way to talk to you,

and then he’ll find any possible way to talk to me, and then my life as a

free man is over!” Jeremiah could never go back to tutoring Brunel on

the weekends. Never.

“Jer” Yet that tone of voice suggested that he would eventually

have to.

“Okay, fine,” Jeremiah relented, making a mental note to tell

Rowan to back off or at least be more subtle, “but if you’ve got all that

extra time to stop by Day’s place then I expect to practice at your

house.” Hopefully that would keep her busier, and even if it didn’t he

wouldn’t have to message Cassandra.

“Fair enough, but less time will mean less results.” As if that

weren’t obvious. Jeremiah was very willing to trade results for

convenience.

“Yes.”

“I heard that Optokinesis is coming up with a new line of

stuffed toys and action figures to raise money to refill the Central Water

Reserve. They’re trying to collect what they can from the Breeze and

reconstruct what they can’t.” They weren’t going to collect much from

the Breeze, considering most of the water had turned to steam once it

reached the same height as the Pinnacle of the Core. That glass was

heat protected for a reason.

“I’ve heard that too, unfortunately.” Jeremiah sighed. Rowan,

despite the fact that he was legitimately dating the assistant of

Optokinesis and going on a date with said assistant at that very

moment, had not shut up about how ‘hot’ the life-sized Optokinesis

plushies would be.

“I also heard that they’re going to make a speech about the

damages this upcoming Friday. It sure would be a shame if those

villains hit a couple of communication towers before then.” If less

people were reassured by the heroes, less people would be willing to

back the heroes in the future. That was the point of this whole

endeavor- to end the practice of letting incompetent heroes make all the

political decisions. Taco from Der Verde was Brunel’s age, for Core’s

sake!

“We’ll have to discuss the possibility with Cassandra.”

Jeremiah didn’t have any classes on Friday, but he still had homework

and Hunting Syndrome 17 to labor over. He was hoping that Cassandra

would be busy.

“I’ve heard that Optokinesis has taken to calling Caustel,

Stella.” As if sensing Jeremiah’s reluctance, Aunt Lucy took a stab at

him. Optokinesis hadn’t dropped the awful nickname since their bank

robbery, and it continued to get on Jeremiah’s nerves.

“I guess Caustel’s gotta keep up whatever training regime he’s

got going on if he wants Opto to take him seriously.” His willingness to

put off training and attacks directly clashed with his desire to make

Optokinesis regret ever coming up with that stupid nickname.

“I suppose so. Speaking of training, did the aches from

Wednesday mostly fade by Friday morning’s session or should we try

to get a Monday-Friday thing going?” She was referring to Jeremiah’s

brand new two-day training regime with Urich, which had been

incredibly painful. Jeremiah had stumbled into the center on Friday

already sore, and he was fairly certain that the subsequent training had

ruined him for Saturday. It hadn’t gotten better that next week, either.

“Monday-Friday would be far preferable.” Hopefully that

would give him a bit more time for rest and relaxation before he had to

strain himself again. Though, having training on Mondays would mean

rescheduling his usual pre-class homework cram.

“If you say so.”

“I have some aelmeran pan noodles,” The waiter had returned,

two plates in hand. They placed Jeremiah’s food in front of him and

turned to Aunt Lucy, “and you must have the vegetarian risotto with

asparagus.”

“Thank you.” While his aunt was practicing niceties, Jeremiah

took in the smell of the roasted chestnuts on his plate. Seriously,

though, how could plants even smell that good?

“Do you two need anything else?”

“I think we’re good for now.”

“Then I’ll be around if you need anything.” The waiter left,

leaving Jeremiah and his aunt to their meals.

“Damn, the asparagus looks good this year.” Lucy unfolded her

napkin and gently placed it onto her lap, reminding Jeremiah to do the

same.

“Hey, there’s a reason we keep coming back.” They couldn’t

afford Dawit’s all the time, but it was a nice treat for the new year. It

was especially appreciated considering the extra classes Jeremiah was

taking over the winter semester to ensure that he could stay at the

dorms.

“I’m going to your parents’ place for Candlesphere. Any

chance you’d be willing to suffer with me?”

Nope. No, no, and no. Jeremiah did not care about being a

‘good son’ or whatever else people wanted of him- he was never going

back to his parents’ place. Especially for Candlesphere. He loved his

aunt, sure, but not enough to visit home for the most religious holiday

of the year. Or- the holiday his parents had made the most religious.

Not many people actually celebrated Candlesphere for the Coreanist

traditions anymore. It was wonderful, because Jeremiah never ever

wanted to see another lamb sacrificed on an altar ever again.

“No.” He was honestly a tad insulted that Lucy would even see

a point in bringing it up.

“Fair enough. If I could get out of it without becoming the

sacrifice, believe me, I would,” Aunt Lucy shuddered, “My mom would

kill me.”

“That she would.” Jeremiah’s grandmother was… a character.

Jeremiah had made the wonderful decision to simply not tell his family

where he was going for school, so that they would never know where

he lived ever again. Well, as long as they didn’t go through the

extensive paperwork process to look up his address. He’d only been

able to reach that newfound level of freedom thanks to the money that

working for the Irekes family had provided.

Which was running out, actually. Extra courses over the

holidays were not cheap. If worst came to worst he would be allowed to

live at his aunt’s house next school year- she’d offered- but that would

surely be a bit inconvenient for the both of them. Villainy- or at least

their brand of villainy- unfortunately didn’t make a whole lot of money,

so Jeremiah was in the beginning stages of scouting for a part-time job

with flexible hours. Between training, schooling, and fighting, there just

wasn’t enough time in a week.

“Jer, you haven’t even touched your food.” His aunt pointed

out. Ah, right. Jeremiah had nearly lost himself there.

“Eh.” He grabbed his fork and began to eat. The food was just

as delicious as it was every year, but having been reminded of his

impending doom Jeremiah couldn’t find the heart to enjoy it.

Part 14

“Oh hey, Jeremiah. I nearly didn’t see you there.” Called it.

Jeremiah sighed and put the cereal box back on the shelf.

“Hello, Brunel.” Farewell, brief days of peace and quiet.

“How’s life been treating you since the party?” He supposed it

was a miracle in and of itself that it had taken Brunel two weeks to

‘miraculously’ appear beside him at the grocery store. They’d

successfully prevented Optokinesis’ speech from reaching half of the

news stations in Sol Undra and completely cut off broadcasting to other

cities. Of course, then Optokinesis had paused his speech and

completely decimated Jeremiah in battle.

“You know- I’m really just so glad that Day has another friend.

She lost a few in her upper years and just hasn’t been the same since.”

Ah yes, Brunel was spilling people’s trauma to complete strangers. It

was remarkably on-brand.

“I doubt you were alive when Day was in upper years.”

Jeremiah pointed out quite reasonably.

“Well, yeah, but you can tell,” Brunel explained. No, Jeremiah

could not. He had just assumed that Day had trouble meeting new

people after retirement, “Did you see the fight between Optokinesis and

the villains on Friday?

“I did.” Jeremiah had lived it. If Brunel started spouting Opto-

worshiping propaganda like Rowan did, Jeremiah was just going to

walk away.

“I’m honestly really disappointed that the villains lost.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah- I know we aren’t supposed to talk poorly about the

heroes but the Sedition and Slander laws are ridiculous anyways. It’s

not like I couldn’t afford to pay the fine.” Ah yes, Jeremiah had nearly

forgotten that free speech was just a rich-person tax.

“Oh.” Very intelligent speech there, Jeremiah.

“They go on about how the money being made will be sent

directly to the different causes, as if those organizations aren’t run by

swindlers and fifty percent of the profits don’t go directly to their hero

paycheck. Did you know that Optokinesis made four times the average

city-wide income in the last month alone?”

“No.” He really hadn’t. It wasn’t like the hero office directly

told people how much money the heroes made, though that was for

obvious reasons. In order to know how much money Optokinesis made

Jeremiah would have had to keep track of exactly how much money

had been spent by people around the world on Sol Undran hero

merchandise and then divide that total in half. Apparently Brunel had

done that.

“Don’t even get me started on the suit. Heroes go on and on to

schools about how everyone should be free to express themselves, and

then Optokinesis goes out of their way to wear a suit. You know how a

hero’s form is directly linked to their mental state and it takes a ton of

work to change? Optokinesis went out of their way to change their

mentality just to encourage people to dress formally. Even if their goal

was solely to increase merchandise sales, it’s far easier to get people to

afford moth costumes than it is for them to afford suits.” Sure, the

costume change was a little weird, but Jeremiah didn’t really judge

them for it. Optokinesis was scary enough as it was, they didn’t need to

be rated PG-13 just because of a moth costume.

“Are you sure you should be talking about this in a grocery

store?” Mostly, Jeremiah just wanted Brunel to shut up and leave him

alone. Even if Brunel was making arguably good points, that was just a

sign that Jeremiah should re-evaluate what he considered a good point.

Really, he just wanted to finish his shopping list and go home.

“Ah, you might be right.” Brunel agreed, “back to my place,

then?” Nope.

“I’ve got shopping to do.” Jeremiah said with a frown.

“Of course! Well, I’ll just have to shuffle next to you until

you’re done.” Did Brunel seriously not understand social cues at all?

Well- scratch that- he was Brunel. Still, though.

“I have class soon.” Jeremiah wouldn’t be giving Brunel a

specific time, because if he gave Brunel a specific time Brunel would

simply ask follow-up questions until he inevitably scheduled himself in

there somewhere. Besides, Jeremiah didn’t have class for another five

hours.

“Oh, well that’s unfortunate,” Brunel sighed,” we’ve really got

to get back to regularly meeting up. My chemistry grades have taken

quite the tank, you know?

“Your chemistry grades are fine.” Jeremiah didn’t actually

know that, but he did know that Brunel was really rather smart when he

actually put any semblance of effort into his schooling or logic into his

homework.

“Are they? You know, I can’t help but notice that you’re back

to buying Cocoa Berries instead of Circus Braids.” Of course Brunel

would pick apart Jeremiah’s cereal choice.

“Maybe I just like them better.”

“Nope!” It was like Brunel couldn’t even comprehend the

possibility of being wrong, “I think that the money you made from

those tutoring sessions is finally running out. That is really unfortunate,

considering the price of staying in the dorms year-round.”

“Maybe I already have another job.” Jeremiah had certainly

been thinking about getting one.

“No, you don’t.” Brunel laughed, “Which is why you’ll be on

the fifty-fifth floor of the Irekes Tower to tutor me again.”

“No.”

“Yes, actually,” The boy grinned sadistically. It was fitting,

considering that he was about to ruin Jeremiah’s life yet again, “I’m

tripling your hourly pay.”

Wait. Hold on a minute. Brunel was tripling Jeremiah’s hourly

pay? Did he even understand what that meant? On their same two-hour

per week schedule Jeremiah could make enough money to pay for his

next year of housing in just eight weeks. Jeremiah could afford

Rowan’s fancy-shmancy bath pass. Jeremiah could get the Hunting

Syndrome 17 Official DLC pack, featuring a full fifty hours of content

building on and branching off of the main storyline.

“What time?”

Part 15

“Oh, Stella! I don’t suppose you’re here to get a sneak peak of

the merchandise?” How had Optokinesis found him so quickly? The

factory was big.

“I don’t suppose you’re just here to watch me destroy your

factory?” Jeremiah asked as he set his shoulders on fire in and attempt

to seem as intimidating as possible. Opto’s eye just stared at him.

“On the contrary, go ahead.”

“What?” Jeremiah felt his flames sputter.

“It’ll just make the surviving merchandise even rarer, meaning

we can sell it for at least five times the normal price. You understand

supply and demand, don’t you?” Well, yes, but Jeremiah had been

hoping that the decrease in supply would also decrease the range of

Optokinesis’ influence.

“You won’t hit your fundraiser targets.” Even with an increase

of that scale, the number of goods Jeremiah had already destroyed

would significantly cut down on profits.

“Well, no, but we will when I announce that I’m going to be

taking no personal income from this financial year.” They were going

to do what? If anything, that would only increase Optokinesis’ fame.

“Because the civilians love that bullshit.” Somehow every plot

to make Optokinesis less famous was really doing the opposite.

“Well, yes and no. I’ve been planning on cutting my take-away

to a quarter of the profits since I got the job. If I hold a policy of no

take-aways for a year, it’ll be like I always have.” If Optokinesis really

cut their own pay in half, they’d only be making twice the city’s

average annual income per month.

“Are you finally going to start publishing how much income

you make?” Every other government job had an income reported on the

city’s official website.

“I’m trying to, but that would require getting the majority of

other heroes to agree. I’ve brought it up to a few people individually

and we’re going to make a presentation at the next Heroic Conference.”

The next Heroic Conference was in just four months. Jeremiah melted

down another machine.

“This is actually really satisfying.” He noted, watching the

plastic replicas of Optokinesis melt into oblivion.

“Just wait ‘till you get to the life-size ones.” Oh, that would be

fun. Not nearly as fun as melting down the real one, but it would

suffice.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? Aren’t you supposed to

be fighting me?” Not that Jeremiah minded not getting beaten into a

pulp, but Optokinesis was a registered hero on the assumption that they

would defeat villains whenever they could.

“Eh, you’ve gotten good enough that I don’t need to worry

about anyone else in the city noticing, so nobody even knows we’re

here. I’ll just say that you broke in during the night and successfully

destroyed the factory without getting detected. I ever-so-unfortunately

couldn’t stop you and will be increasing the city-wide security.”

Throughout their many encounters, though none so much as this one,

Jeremiah had realized that Optokinesis was not quite so heroic as they

pretended to be.

“Increased city-wide security will suck.” Jeremiah actually

quite liked not being monitored every waking hour.

“There’ll always be that one protest group that makes sure the

bill doesn’t go through, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry much.” It

was then that Jeremiah was struck by just how symbiotic the

relationship between Optokinesis and the villains was. Opto got paid to

beat them up for the camera and the villains nearly always

accomplished the goal they set out to achieve.

Increased base water rations? Done. Increased restrictions on

CEOs? Done. Greater sanctions for minority groups in business? Done.

They’d ultimately accomplished every goal they’d set out to achieve,

except for when that goal included the defamation of Optokinesis. Their

attempts to silence Opto’s speeches had only resulted in more people

tuning in, and their attempt to make merchandise less available to the

public would eventually only result in the merchandise being more

popular. Jeremiah was beginning to see a pattern, and he wasn’t entirely

sure how to feel about it.

“You sure you’re not a villain?” He asked. Optokinesis sure

was willing to do a lot of shady things to get their point across.

“You sure you’re not a hero?” Optokinesis shot back. Jeremiah

reeled, momentarily stumbling over his own feet, “I mean- your arrest

of Mx. and Mrs. Elli last week was certainly something to behold.”

“We didn’t arrest them.” Jeremiah protested.

“Let’s see: you stormed their house, confiscated their weapons,

and handcuffed them to the chair for the police. You didn’t even steal

any valuables!” They only hadn’t stolen from the house because Lucy

thought it would take away from their overall message, “Besides the

lack of a warrant- which you can’t get for obvious reasons, that sounds

an awful lost like an arrest to me.”

“What would you know? I’m not sure if you know this, but you

aren’t exactly the expert at actually arresting people.” If they were,

Jeremiah would most certainly be behind bars already.

“I guess you’re right. I like to think I know some things about

our police force, but I really don’t.” Well, Jeremiah most certainly

hadn’t expected that confession out of them, “I only managed a meeting

with all the heads of the force two weeks ago.”

“Damn.” Jeremiah moved onto the machine working on the

full-size plastic models of Optokinesis, “You were right, this feels

pretty great.” He’d always wanted to melt Opto’s obnoxious eye

between his hands.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” Optokinesis said with a

scoff, “I’ll have you know that the fitting for those things was quite

uncomfortable.”

“A fitting?” Getting actual life-sizes for life-sized things made

sense, but it also seemed a little excessive.

“I have never wanted to know the exact length of my legs less.”

Jeremiah shivered and stopped melting the figures. Something told him

that he didn’t want to know the exact length of Optokinesis’ legs either.

“Onto something else, then.” Jeremiah eyed the full-body

pillows.

“I apologize if this is a little inconsiderate, but what made you

decide to be a villain?” Alright, that was definitely a conversation to be

burning weirdly illicit fanart of Optokinesis over.

“I knew Carcinoid. She was already planning to start villainy

with Sigiforal, but I happened to meet them while they were planning

together and she offered the third object to me.” That really had been

the only reason. Sure, Jeremiah liked the idea of making a difference in

the world, but he’d mostly accepted the position for his aunt.

“Dang. No epic plots for vengeance, then?” Optokinesis asked.

“Not quite.”

“I was hoping you’d at least have some kind of beef with

someone. A dead dad makes a great villain origin story, or maybe even

just something where the government didn’t quite do what they were

supposed to,” Well, it was nice to know that Optokinesis wanted him to

have more trauma, “Are you really just that boring?”

“Boring as anyone else.” Jeremiah supposed that he could hold

some beef with the other people involved with the senior prank, but he

really didn’t.

“Fair enough.”

“What about you? What made you decide to take up heroism?”

He could see someone like Rowan parading around in a costume and

selling figures, but the more he fought Optokinesis the more he

wondered why they’d go for a life of crime-fighting.

“Honestly? About the same reason as you. I knew someone in

the industry so when the Keeper said I had potential I was practically

already in.”

“Do you ever regret it?” Jeremiah knew that he sometimes did.

Villainy really interfered with his schedule.

“...sometimes.” Opto admitted, “It’s a bit stressful, and you

guys have no respect for my sleep schedule.”

“Well forgive us for not attacking when there are innocent

people to harm.” The cloak of darkness was wonderful for villainous

activities, but Jeremiah could relate to the desire for a decent night’s

sleep. Not that he wouldn’t be up, anyways.

“You are forgiven.” Opto said, prompting Jeremiah to roll his

eyes, “it’s not like I can just quit, though. I’ve got people counting on

me.”

“That you do.” Jeremiah agreed. Optokinesis was one of the

only heroes whose fights were regularly broadcasted around the world

rather than just across the city. They were freakishly popular for the

way they single-handedly rekindled the Sol Undran hero industry.

“Core, I’m sleep-deprived.” Opto complained. Really, wasn’t

everyone?

“Hey, at least people like you.” Regardless of how many social

changes the villains pushed through, they would always be ragged on

by the media.

“Yeah, sure, when I’m a hero,” Opto’s laugh was a hollow one,

“My friend in the industry is probably the only person willing to put up

with me as a civilian.” Ah, Jeremiah hadn’t even thought about that.

Sure, Optokinesis was well-loved as a hero, but nobody knew

anything about who they were as a civilian. It was a remarkably rare

thing for an adult hero to hide their identity- perhaps there was a reason

that Opto did. Not everybody knew someone in the hero industry.

Wasn’t Wrath’s whole ‘thing’ that he had been scouted out at a

behavioral correction camp? Optokinesis’ recruitment could’ve been

something similar.

“Does it have something to do with your unwillingness to do

something that comes easy to you simply because you won’t directly

benefit from it?” Such as, say, not attacking the villain who was

actively destroying your factory? Opto laughed.

“I think you’re onto something, there,” They paused, and

sighed, “how much longer do you think you’re going to be here?”

“Honestly?” Jeremiah checked the clock on the wall of the

factory, “I’m under orders to stay ‘till first light. Another four hours?”

“Four-? Yeah, no, I’m going home.” Optokinesis checked their

own pocket watch and turned away.

“Wish that was me.”

“Nice talking to you, Stella.”

Part 16

“Clearly Optokinesis has to be some kind of failed villain. It

would connect all the dots! Why they appeared so suddenly, why their

identity is secret, why civilians love them but the heroic council

doesn’t, why they can relate to the villains-”

“You calculated the wrong number of moles, try again.”

Jeremiah scratched out a number on Brunel’s scratch paper with his

correcting pen, “I don’t think Optokinesis can relate to the villains,

really.”

“Oh, that’s just because they don’t actually release the sound

over each fight. If you read their lips, you can totally see Optokinesis

rubbing elbows with them. This Monday, when the merchandise factory

and warehouse was attacked, you can’t tell me that they didn’t notice

that! I think that Optokinesis just watched Caustel destroy their things-

I mean their footprints are all over the floor!” It was a tad concerning

that Brunel was analyzing the footprints of a crime scene, but that was

one rabbit hole Jeremiah did not want to think about.

“The calculations, Brunel.” He tapped the desk to get the teen’s

attention.

“Oh, no, I got that right.” Jeremiah grit his teeth at Brunel’s

response.

“No, you didn’t”

“But I did! See? You’re the one who’s wrong. You’ve

completely forgotten about the R value over here.” Brunel circled the

value in question in an attempt to prove his point. Jeremiah ran his

calculations again.

“I really don’t know why I’m here.” Jeremiah sighed, realizing

that Brunel’s answer was in fact correct.

“Money,” The boy in question answered simply, “and the point

I’m trying to make is that I think Optokinesis is in it for the money too.

I mean- sure- they’re going on a no-profits stint right now, but that’s

clearly just for publicity. Besides, even if they really do a transfer to

quarter-profit take-aways they’re still making so much more than the

average civilian. What do they even do with all that money?”

“Live?” Jeremiah continued his pointless correction of Brunel’s

worksheet.

“Life in a penthouse near the Pinnacle of the Core surrounded

by luxury and expensive goods while people are starving around them?

Yeah, sure.”

“Brunel, that is literally what you’re doing.”

“Well, yes, but I hardly have a choice. It’s my parents who

have all the money, and I simply go around spending it so that it’ll re-

enter the economy. There’s been no reports of suddenly-rich

bachelorxes so what could they possibly be spending that money on?”

Jeremiah had never heard of rich people ragging on other rich people

for being rich, and he hadn’t really ever wanted to.

“Maybe they’re giving it to charity.” Jeremiah suggested before

he could catch himself.

“Well, obviously not. No charities have reported an influx of

income. That’s the whole point of the Merchandise Profit Program,

anyways, that the profit not taken by the heroes will be effectively

distributed to communities in need. Who is Optokinesis to decide who

gets what share of the profit? Don’t they already make half of the

decisions for the profits that go directly to the charities? Is the problem

that those exchanges are public while their own aren’t? Is Optokinesis

in charge of a charity, so they send all the money there and can get

away without reporting it?”

“That’d be illegal, Brunel. They’d have to at least mark it as a

tax write-off.” Jeremiah reminded the other, clicking his pen.

“You’re right, but who’s really going to arrest one of the most

popular heroes in the world?” That was… a startlingly good point.

Once again, Jeremiah needed to re-evaluate his world-view in order to

get it as far away form Brunel’s influence as possible, “See, I think the

way this is all going to play out is that the so-called ‘villains’ will do

their thing for another year or two and get all the real social change

done, and then they’ll arrest Optokinesis like they did the Elli couple

and take over as heroes of Sol Undra.

“Whoa there. Hold on, Brunel.” Jeremiah held his hands up in a

placating manner, “I hate to break this to you, but you’re one of the

only people in the world who doesn’t actively love Optokinesis and

their politics. Meanwhile, people hate villains for being- well- villains.

What makes you think they can swap roles just like that?

“They won’t, which is exactly the point I was making. The

villains are already heroes, and the hero is already a villain. All it’ll

take is the people as a whole realizing what has been going on under

their noses and they’ll be all over Optokinesis in a second. People

already realize that it’s our set of villains that have been slowly turning

our city into the crown jewel of Eden once more. Then, because the

villains keep targeting corrupt people in power, they’re bound to settle

on their ultimate target- Optokinesis.”

“What makes you think Optokinesis is their target?” They

absolutely weren’t, as Jeremiah well-knew. The villains’ target was the

way society was run.

“They aren’t. The villains’ target is the way society is run,'' Oh

Core. It looked like the villains needed a new mission statement. “Who

runs society? Society itself, of course. Who makes the rules, though?

Who has the most influence? The answer is the heroes. By demolishing

how heroes work and destroying people’s unwavering faith in their

heroes, the villains would effectively shake the very pillars of our

modern society. If we lost our faith in Optokinesis by learning of all the

terrible things they do, we’d start to doubt the other heroes too. We’d

start to question how much power is simply handed to heroes at such

young ages.”

“That is… true.” Unfortunately. Maybe Brunel was making-

Wait. No, Brunel never made good points. Brunel was a

remarkably backwards person who had just earlier complained about

Optokinesis being too rich while paying Jeremiah more dollars an hour

than most people got in a week. Optokinesis was, remarkably enough, a

goodish person deep down, who seemed to just generally dislike

violence. Was that ironic considering that they were a professional

fighter? Yes, yes it was.

It wasn’t like Jeremiah was ever going to become a hero. Aunt

Lucy most certainly didn’t want to be a hero. Cassandra would

probably have a psychotic breakdown if the idea was so much as

pitched to her. None of them were working for fame, they were

working for change. Or, well, Jeremiah was mostly just working to

make his aunt happy.

“And then- to top it all off- Optokinesis’ mysteriously

disappearing cash flow. It’s just so obvious that they’re saving up and

practically betting on being outed by ‘villains’ in order to show their

true colors and run away rich.” Brunel finished. Jeremiah checked the

clock.

“You’re out of time, Brunel.” Somehow Brunel had managed

to spend all two hours of theri tutoring session rambling about

everything from the various crimes of the actors in every single famous

hero movie to why the world’s top hero was secretly a villain. Well, he

was Brunel afterall. At least Jeremiah was being paid.

“Oh really? Well, that’s too bad. Here’s your pay as usual.”

Brunel opened the small wooden box he kept under his desk and pulled

out a comically large wad of cash.

“Bye.”

Part 17

“So.” Jeremiah wasn’t entirely sure how to start a conversation

with Rowan in general, much less one about his overzealous stalking of

Aunt Lucy. Hence why Jeremiah had put it off for so long, “You’ve

been stalking my aunt.”

“Only lightly.” Rowan protested, “It’s not really stalking if I’m

talking to her.”

“It is when she sees you in the bushes.” Jeremiah deadpanned.

Rowan paled.

“She saw- what? When?” Rowan asked, and honestly?

Jeremiah had no idea when. Fortunately, Rowan’s eyes quickly

widened with realization, “Oh, oh. On their date.”

“Their what?” Jeremiah had not been aware that his aunt was

dating anyone. Rowan smiled.

“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was really cute. Cute but- like- obviously

bad. Y’know, for you. I took some notes!” Rowan reached for a

notebook under his bed.

“...notes.” Why was Jeremiah not surprised? Rowan flipped to

a particular page in his notebook- a marked one, Jeremiah noted.

“One- Dawit’s Verojas Cuisine is rated 4.78 stars, with most

complaints being about the price, not the quality of the food. Was it

weird they got Verojan food when Verojas and most Verojas-related

things are anti-hero? Yes. Yes it was. I firmly disapprove.” Leave it to

Rowan to be upset with a restaurant daring to serve food from the

independent part of the world. However, Jeremiah was upset for a much

different reason.

“She took her to Dawit’s?” Dawit’s was their place. Their New

Year’s place. Why was Aunt Lucy hanging out with Day there of all

places?

“Yup. Weird. Anyways, then your aunt complained about a

problematic witness, but they got around to talking about days off.

Shared some notes on different exercise routines, apparently the other

woman is a total gym bro. Made comment about leggings…” Rowan

moved his finger down the page, humming to himself, “Talked about

fashion, about relaxation, Day’s gonna start dropping off extra food so

your aunt doesn’t have to worry about that.” She was going to what?

“What?” Oh. Jeremiah hadn’t meant to actually speak.

“Yeah. Cute, right? Maybe I should take up cooking; love

being the key to the heart and all that.” The key to the heart? Listen, if

Day and Aunt Lucy got together Jeremiah and Brunel would practically

be friend-in-laws, which was absolutely unacceptable, “Then they did,

like, a few of the thirty-six questions. Really basic first few dates

maneuver. Day said they’d like to have Optokinesis over for dinner,

which I approve of. A bit more cute flirting- mostly lesbian stuff so

nothing I could pull for my repertoire-'' What “-but cute, and fairly

effective. They- oh, yeah. They planned their third date for this

Thursday, since it’s the day after one of your aunt’s hearings. I guess

that means it was their second date. Good chemistry for only the second

date, but I figure they’ve been friends for a while longer. Anyways, that

was it. Sorry your aunt saw me, I’ll try to be more inconspicuous next

time.”

“...you don’t have to do that.” Jeremiah admitted. Rowan’s eyes

widened.

“Of course I do!” he claimed, “it’s my duty as your-”

“It’s already too late, Rowan. Brunel found me and coerced me

into being his tutor again.” What was Jeremiah going to do? Say no to

more money?

“Oh.” Rowan looked completely dejected, “Well, that sucks. Is

Brunel, like, your ex, or something?” Ah. So Rowan had finally gotten

around to asking questions about his self-given assignment.

Unfortunately, it was the wrong question.

“Rowan, you know I’m not interested in anyone.” That had

practically been the first thing he’d told Rowan, as they were laying out

the roommate agreement. Upon realizing that his roommate was a

hopeless romantic, Jeremiah had taken steps to avoid ever getting

himself wrapped up in Rowan’s nonsense. Unfortunately, he had been

wrangled in anyways, just in a different way.

“Well, I know. Just- if you’d ever experimented. Or

something.”

“No.” Jeremiah sighed, “Brunel is not my ex, he’s an

annoyance who made my life a living hell in academy.” Academy had

been hard enough as it was without being known as the Irekes family’s

personal tutor- something Brunel had done his best to announce as

loudly and as publicly as possible. After successfully isolating him

from every other person ever, Brunel had then proceeded to pay his

way into the upper-years dining floor to spend every single lunch

yapping Jeremiah’s ear off. He’d go so far as paying Jeremiah’s old

English teacher to let him sit in the class just to slip entire essays of

paper messages to Jeremiah, and had regularly shown up at Saturday

Mass to sit next to Jeremiah and join Jeremiah’s family in bullying him.

Try sitting in between a devout, goat-sacrificing Coreanist and an anti-

religious conspiracy theorist.

“Huh. Well, then, I suppose it just sucks to be you.” Rowan

said, voice lacking pretty much any empathy. Jeremiah nodded anyway

because it did, in fact, suck to be him, “Well, I’ve got a date with

Calvin in five hours, so I’ve gotta take a shower and get ready.” Five-?!

Yeah. That made sense. Rowan was still Rowan, for better or

for worse. At least he wasn’t Brunel.

Part 18

“Oh my god, Jeremiah, you won’t believe what-” Rowan, who

had walked through the door and immediately started rambling about

something, paused suddenly, “I’ve only been gone for two hours?”

“Uh-huh.” Jeremiah nodded and cut a new piece of yellow

string- color coding was important, afterall. Who knew if Tilly was

Tolune, afterall?

“So… why have you turned your side of the room into a

murder board? Is it like- some assignment?” Rowan closed the door and

moved closer to said ‘murder board’.

“Nope.” Jeremiah replied as he reached for more thumbtacks,

putting together more connections, “I just finished Hunting Syndrome

17.” He hadn’t started the DLC quite yet, but he wanted to get all his

thoughts in order before that. Togume’s IRL inspiration couldn’t have

been the killer- she’d been one of the victims- so all Jeremiah had to do

was find out who was.

“And… are those the heroes from when the game was set?

Huh. I didn’t take you as a hero fan.” Rowan reached forward and

touched the photo of Emma, tracing the red thread which led to

Emma’s IRL counterpart, “And stalking teenagers? This one’s missing

a finger.”

“What?!” Jeremiah immediately dropped the string he was

holding, eyes darting to where Rowan’s finger was resting. Thiago

Esquivel. Jeremiah looked at the hand Rowan was referring to.

“Yeah. Hey, don’t you wear that weird finger-necklace thing?”

Jeremiah unconsciously reached for his magical object, “Doesn’t that

totally match the color of this guy’s skin? Maybe it was their finger.”

Maybe it was their… oh Core. See, Jeremiah had always,

always hoped that his magical object wasn’t actually a human finger.

Call him an optimist, but he knew how many germs dead bodies had.

Yet, the magical object of fire had once belonged to Wrath, hadn’t it?

To Wrath who could have, potentially, been Thiago? Jeremiah moved

the top image of Thiago over to look at the others he had been able to

find and print. Sure enough, in one dated just a few months before the

top photo, Thiago’s left hand had all of its fingers, and on the middle

one was a gold ring. Jeremiah reached down his shirt and pulled out his

magical object, comparing the gold.

“Oh wow, that’s kinda creepy.” Rowan muttered, ever-so-

helpfully. Jeremiah took a deep breath in, and slowly let it out.

Okay. Alright. Suppose the real magical object was the gold

ring, and Wrath/Thiago’s finger was just… attached. A hypothesis

which- considering the fact that Aunt Lucy and Cassandra’s magical

objects were both just metal, no extra bits- was looking more and more

likely. Even then, how could the magical object be melted? No flame

Jeremiah had ever produced had been able to melt the gold which

capped the finger. Then again, Wrath had…

Jeremiah followed the thread to the images dubbed ‘Warehouse

Incident’- the fight in which Tolune had been killed by the villains- her

death having been broadcast to the world- and then Wrath burned the

entire warehouse down. The thing was, without Tolune’s death being

recorded, nobody would have been able to know that it wasn’t Wrath

who killed her. He had burned the warehouse with a flame hot enough

to practically disintegrate every single body inside; even Peirein had

only survived due to their teleporting abilities. Disintegrating bodies

was also a calling card for The Hand of God, though Jeremiah had

never even thought that such a feat would be accomplished by heat. In

the game The Hand of God was just some new type of villain with a

new power, which was, as Jeremiah knew, impossible because all

powers came from established magical objects. Every magical object

had been around since the dawn of heroes- there had never been any

new ones.

If Wrath could burn three bodies and a warehouse in just one

minute and twenty-seven seconds, who’s to say he couldn’t also melt a

magical object? Melt it down so quickly, and potentially by accident-

say, when burning down the aforementioned warehouse- that some of

the metal got into his skin and he had to cut it off? That the metal got

into his skin in such a way that, even after removing the metal visible,

he was still left with his fire powers? Which would explain why The

Hand of God was able to disintegrate bodies as if by- as several

witnesses reported- magic.

Holy Core, Wrath and The Hand of God were the same person

and they were-

“Hey Jeremiah, you’re looking a little scary right now.” Rowan

noted.

“But it can’t be Thiago.” Jeremiah thought aloud, “Thiago’s in-

game counterpart is Emma, who was one of the victims.” A rather

forgettable victim, had it not been her death that ultimately led to

Jeremiah learning about Hunting Syndrome 17’s inspiration.

“Whoa, they're dead?” Rowan asked, reeling. Jeremiah nodded.

“Thiago Esquivel went missing on April 23rd, ten days before

Wrath was arrested. Besides, in the grocery store in which he was last

seen, all that was left was The Hand of God’s calling card. Why would

he leave his own calling card if he was arrested?” Or rather, had Wrath

attempted to make his betrayal even more of a surprise by pretending to

be dead for a little over a week? Wasn’t it fairly common knowledge

that Peirein only learned Wrath’s identity upon Wrath’s arrest?

“Sorry, what does Wrath have to do with this?” Rowan asked,

reminding Jeremiah that normal people didn’t know about magical

objects.

“Um- nothing?” That was… really bad, actually. Rowan raised

an eyebrow, but seemingly let Jeremiah get away with his lie.

“Well, do you wanna hear about my date now?” Rowan asked,

“Because we totally bonded over our love of cute animals and our

desire to start a family. We ended up stopping by his apartment

afterwards and his cat actually let me pet her this time!”

“Fun.” Jeremiah deadpanned. Rowan had been complaining

about Calvin’s cat for the past week.

“I know, right? I finally got the approval of the cat, so we made

out for like ten minutes.”

“What?” Jeremiah had no idea how getting the approval of a

pet related to sucking on another’s face. Perhaps that was why he’d

never really ‘gotten’ romance, though. It was too unpredictable.

“Exactly. I was like- what?! I think we’re really close to getting

more intimate at this point, but I’m not going to push it. We’re just so

comfortable where we are, you know? Nothing like what I had with

Heath.” Rowan was never going to be able to admit that ‘Heath’ type

incidents happened to him more often than they thought. He’d over-

romanticize even the tiniest of gestures, end up making some large

move that made the other person uncomfortable, and then get super

heartbroken when things didn’t work out.

Well, not like Jeremiah had actually seen most of Rowan’s

breakups, but it seemed to be a common factor in all the stories Rowan

had told him. Rowan had told a lot of stories regarding past romances

ranging from the tender age of twelve to when he had gotten with

Heath. Jeremiah found it especially ridiculous that any twelve-year-old

could believe that they had found their one true love, but then again he

supposed that twelve-year-old was Rowan, who could still believe that

he’d found his one true love after a single meeting.

“Well good for you, I suppose.” It was good for them. Jeremiah

had been expecting Calvin and Rowan to break up after maybe a

month.

“Aw, don’t worry, Jer. I’ll stick around until we both get our

Associates.” Honestly, that was what Jeremiah was worried about.

Part 19

"Oh that's right, Jer, don't you play Hunting Syndrome?"

Jeremiah was once more sitting in Brunel's room, listening to the teen

rant for hours on end.

"Yes." He did, and he quite liked it. Brunel had weasled it out

as one of his interests some time ago- in the first round of Jeremiah's

tutoring sessions.

"I actually got to beta test Hunting Syndrome 17 and it's official

DLC content." Wait, what?

"You what?" Jeremiah's request to become a beta tester had

been rejected seven times. Now he was learning that Brunel was a beta

tester? It was the most coveted position in the community- the awesome

power of knowing the storyline before it hits the rest of the world.

“Yep. Emma? She’s based on my grandfather.”

“Brunel, Emma died.” Sort-of. In-game, at least. Then again,

Jeremiah had been trying to rationalize how Thiago would’ve gotten

out of custody in order to carry out the rest of the murders as The Hand

of God. Perhaps a new identity was a given.

“Did she?” That wasn’t ominous at all. “Well, perhaps they got

that part wrong.”

“In the credits her IRL counterpart is listed as Thiago

Esquivel.” Jeremiah pointed out.

“Thiago, Thomas. Esquivel, Ezeral. Maybe they made a typo?”

A typo? Yeah, Jeremiah was fairly certain that Brunel was just crazy.

Afterall, even if Thiago had invented a new identity as Thomas, why

would he ever want to be in the spotlight as The Architect of The Era?

Unless-

“Brunel, don’t they keep Wrath in the Pinnacle of the Core?”

Jeremiah asked suddenly.

“Well, yes, if you believe that. I personally think he’s being

kept in the subways, at least ever since the last Pinnacle of the Core

burned down due to the magical object experimentation mishap.” Uh

huh. The burning of the Pinnacle of the Core had been declared an

accident- something related to someone on the twenty-seventh floor

leaving a gas stove on. Perhaps- perhaps- the flames had been Thiago’s

escape. Perhaps he had wanted to build the new Pinnacle of the Core, as

Thomas, so that he would know it inside and out if he ever got arrested

again. Huh.

Part 20

Jeremiah was visiting Sol Undra Public Academy. He’d sworn

that he’d never go back, but he wanted to take another look at the place

where the final chapters of Hunting Syndrome 17 took place. He even

had a perfectly logical excuse- his one-year-reunion.

It seemed silly to him for anyone to attend reunions,

particularly so soon after graduation. It wasn’t like he ever wanted to

see any of his classmates ever again. In any case, he was sure to bump

into them just based on the fact that SUPA taught ninety-seven percent

of all kids in Sol Undra. Most everyone was an alumni, so there was

simply no way to avoid all your classmates forever. Accepting this as

simply an unfortunate fact of life, Jeremiah had resigned himself to at

least avoiding the reunions. Until then.

“Oh hey, Jeremiah. I didn’t think you’d be into these types of

things.” Jessica Ryans was behind the check-in desk, just outside the

front door of the building. She’d attempted to confess to him when they

were both fifteen years old, but by then Jeremiah was beginning to

catch on to the fact that he wasn’t interested in anyone.

“Eh.” She was dead wrong if she thought she was actually

going to get a response from him, though. What was he supposed to say

anyway? That he’d only come back because the school happened to be

the setting of the latest installment in his favorite video game series of

all time? Somehow he didn’t think that would go over well with the

once-popular cheerleader.

“Well, I’ll check you in, then. We’ve actually got a couple of

the teachers to join us here. Can you believe our luck? Mr. Barbury and

Mrs. Peterson agreed to stop by during their summer break just to see a

couple of the alumni.” Mr. Barbury and Mrs. Peterson went to every

single academy reunion every single year. They were absolutely nuts,

and Jeremiah hadn’t particularly enjoyed learning from them during his

years as a student.

“Great.” He wasn’t about to call them out, though, not in front

of one of their favorite students. Jeremiah wanted to at least stay on

relatively good terms with the future inheritor of Old Ryan’s Chicken

Tenders.

“Enjoy the evening, Jeremiah! There’ll be live music in one

and a half hours, there’s an arts and crafts table to put together little

mementos, and there’s plenty of tables to sit around and talk.” Jessica

smiled as she handed Jeremiah his card- his ticket to the school. As

‘great’ as an arts and crafts table sounded, he was not intending to sit

around the MPR and chat. He had a school to investigate, afterall.

First on his list was the upperclassmen break area- the spot

where Alvarice Morenburg was last seen and the area where The Hand

of God’s calling card had been found. During Jeremiah’s time at SUPA

he’d never really been one to wander off beyond his ‘claimed’ spot to

eat lunch, nor was he one to spread rumors. Unfortunately, the clear

divide between those who spend their breaks in different individual

areas made it so that Jeremiah had never once spotted the memorial to

the fallen student. If he had, Jeremiah would have likely caught on to

the potential mystery much earlier. Unfortunately, some things just

weren’t meant to be.

Jeremiah entered the elevator and, on his way down, opened

his notebook. In Hunding Syndrome 17 the calling card had been found

in the Northeastern corner. However, according to a few different

articles regarding ‘days of memorial’ and the like, The Hand of God’s

calling card had been found in the Northwestern corner. It made more

sense, given as the Northwestern corner had always been significantly

less likely to be inhabited by anyone who could stop the murder at any

given time and was just another slight difference between the game and

the real events.

Upon reaching his destination, Jeremiah used the map he’d

printed out and haphazardly glued into his journal to locate the

Northwestern corner. Even with the map, the school was so large and

maze-like that it took approximately twenty minutes before Jeremiah

reached his destination. Sure enough, there was a small memorial

behind a large bush. The patch of grass where The Hand of God’s

calling card had been found was sealed away with glass, though it was

entirely removable. Jeremiah was glad he’d brought gloves, as he was

not particularly in the mood for anyone to ask him why his fingerprints

were on the memorial box for some random dead guy’s murder scene.

Jeremiah collected a small sample of the grass growing both in the

shape of the calling card and around it, which were both distinctly

different shades. Hopefully whatever had made the grass grow a

different color for over sixty years would provide Jeremiah with a hint

as to how Alvarice died.

Jeremiah then took a couple of photos of Alvarice’s small

memorial photo, though the photo was clearly just a school yearbook

photo. He reverse searched the photo to find said yearbook and noted in

his notebook that he would have to go through the yearbook to find any

other photos of Alvarice. Perhaps something which would inform

Jeremiah as to the victim’s body composition, so that he could know

just how long it took to burn the teenager beyond ashes. Evidence

collected and stowed away in two ziplock bags and his digital camera,

Jeremiah headed down to Room 206.

Again, 207 had been the in-game homeroom, but 206 was the

actual homeroom of Alvarice and Thiago. It was also, potentially by

coincidence, the homeroom of Dylan, better known as Peirein- a hero.

Jeremiah still didn’t know if Dylan had known of Wrath’s identity as

Thiago- or if Wrath had truly been Thiago at all, though he was fairly

sure of that fact. In any case, the room likely wouldn’t have any

information for him. The desks would likely all be cleaned out and

replaced, and-

Jeremiah stopped outside the door to Room 200. The room

which held all of the homeroom desks where professional heroes of Sol

Undra who had revealed their identities were held. Core, he was such

an idiot. Jeremiah gently opened the door and made his way to the last

installment- the very last Sol Undran hero to reveal their identity. It was

Dylan’s desk. Jeremiah read the small inscription.

‘Despite being a dedicated and quiet student here at SUPA,

Peirein’s desk contains a variety of pen and pencil markings not in his

own handwriting. Instead, the handwriting was matched up to Peirein’s

two reported friends, who unfortunately went missing and are

suspected to be the first two victims of The Hand of God. Despite losing

his friends, or perhaps in their memory, Peirein left the markings on his

desk when he donated it to the homeroom desk memorial room.’

Jeremiah paused.

He read through the inscription again.

…Dylan’s friends were two victims of The Hand of God? The

only victims who went missing while attending Sol Undra Public

Academy were Tilly, Thiago, and Alvarice. Tilly was some young girl

who had gone missing when she was thirteen, and her family had found

no trace of anything- certainly not The Hand of God’s calling card.

Thiago and Alvarice on the other hand…

Was it so much of a stretch to say that Wrath and Perein would

have been friends outside of their masks? Knowing of Wrath’s betrayal,

Jeremiah would generally say ‘yes.’ However…

Hm. However. Jeremiah circled the desk, taking note of

various markings. A few inappropriate drawings, as to be expected of

upper years, including but not limited to sexual innuendos and middle

fingers. Someone had drawn the backside-of a hand in a fist, while

someone else- or perhaps the same person with a different writing

utensil- drew an arrow to the middle finger and an ‘L’. Knowing that

Thiago was lacking a middle finger on his left hand, it was strange for

them to be joking about such a thing on someone else’s desk. Well, or

perhaps a friend’s desk.

Jeremiah sketched out the doodle and the marking, as well as a

few other inscriptions: the letter T, a splash of what appeared to be

water damage, a mushroom, and the symbol for anarchy. Essentially,

more reasons why Jeremiah doubted that Thiago, Alvarice, and Peirein

were even friends. Perhaps it simply wasn’t Peirein’s desk, though

Jeremiah wasn’t sure how the desks would be swapped. The seating

charts were pretty serious at SUPA, particularly for the upper years.

Seriously, though, why would a hero let anyone inscribe the symbol for

anarchy into their school desk? It just didn’t make sense.

Once Jeremiah was done analyzing the desk, he moved onto

the classroom, though as he suspected all of the other desks had been

changed out for newer models. Pursing his lips, Jeremiah made his way

back to the MPR, on his way to sneak out of the social event.

“Oh hey, Jeremiah.” Oh Core, it was that guy. Jeremiah didn’t

even remember his name, but he’d been the specific person to convince

Jeremiah to plant the stink bomb in the new gym teacher’s office. He’d

received a portion of the fine, thanks to the wonderful work of Aunt

Lucy. “Hey.” He really, really, hadn’t wanted to run into any of the

boys in that particular group again. He wasn’t too surprised to see one

of them at a academy reunion, though. They had seemed like the kind

of people to peak in academy and want to relive the ‘good old days’.

“Listen, man, I’m really sorry about pressuring you into

planting that stink bomb. We all thought it was going to work out well,

you know? Just a little senior prank, and why not give the loner a little

something to remember upper years by?” Oh wonderful. Jeremiah

loved being categorized as a loner.

“Nah, it’s fine. You all got punished too, yeah? So it’s not

really a problem, anymore.” It wasn’t a problem, so long as he could

avoid seeing any of them ever again.

“Yeah, that fine hit me pretty hard. Your aunt’s good, you

know?” Of course, that particular member of the group had been one of

two to not actively avoid splitting the fine between all parties involved.

“That she is.” Aunt Lucy was a wonderful lawyer, her success

having something to do with her innate desire for actual justice and

equity. “But, hey, I’m also really sorry about your whole parents

thing. The fine must’ve extra-sucked for you.” Hurray, so Jeremiah got

to share his religious trauma with a stranger. The fine had sucked,

because it meant he would have less money when he moved out of his

parents’ house with the intention of never seeing them again, but it

wasn’t like he hadn’t been able to pay it. He was doing fine, anyways.

“It did, but you remember that tutoring gig for local

homeschooled cryptid Brunel Irekes? I’m back to that to pay for my

second year of housing.” Well, at least he would have another person to

pity him.

“Damn. Brunel Irekes? Again? Isn’t he still on that whole

Anti-Keeper thing?”

“Yep. At least the pay is nice.”

“Yeah, I’d hope so.” See, this guy got it. ‘It’ being why

Jeremiah had been so keen on avoiding Brunel Irekes, “Hey though,

man, good for you. I had to basically beg my brother for an office job in

the Pinnacle of the Core.” It wasn’t too terribly uncommon for people

to take up jobs straight out of high school, but Jeremiah knew for a fact

that the guy in front of him had gotten into a nice private college paid

for by his parents. Why would he need a job?

“Oh? What department?”

“Environmental Policy in Heroics, but until I finish my degree

I’m just a coffee gatherer. The only reason I managed to score the gig

was because my brother’s Optokinesis’ personal assistant.” If Jeremiah

had been drinking anything, he would have done a spit-take.

“Calvin?” He asked, just to confirm. The guy nodded, “Oh. I

think he and my roommate are dating.”

“Your roommate’s Rowan?” The guy asked, looking properly

horrified. Jeremiah nodded, “Yeah, he’s come over to the house a

couple of times. Our walls are nowhere near thick enough for that kind

of stuff.” Jeremiah grimaced.

“Tell me about it. Sometimes he’ll talk to me about his date

and just throw in something like ‘we made out for ten minutes’ as if it

isn’t deeply traumatizing.” Jeremiah was suddenly exceptionally

grateful that he wasn’t Calvin’s brother, because he couldn’t even

imagine having to live through the experiences Rowan had described.

“You have my utmost sympathy,” the other assured him, “but,

well, at least my brother’s stopped hitting on every guy he sees.”

“At least Rowan has stopped crying over his academy

sweetheart.” Frankly, Jeremiah was eternally pleased to no longer have

to clean black mascara off of their shared couch. That had been a

nightmare, and he’d been tempted to burn the furniture more than once

if it wouldn’t have been charged to his school account.

“So what’d you end up studying in college?” Calvin’s brother

asked. Jeremiah had been undeclared when he’d started, but he’d very

quickly found the subject he was passionate about. Simply put,

Jeremiah hadn’t realized that solving Hunting Syndrome-type mysteries

was a legitimate career path until college.

“Forensics.” Jeremiah didn’t remember what Calvin’s

brother’s major was, but it probably had something to do with the

environment. Just probably.

“Huh. I’m focusing on plant biology.” Jeremiah filed the

information away in a place to be promptly forgotten as soon as he left

the MPR, “I was hoping to get internships in Der Verde, but

environmental policy isn’t so bad. Makes my plant identification skills

much less helpful.” Suddenly, Jeremiah got one of the best ideas he’d

had in a while.

“Hey, do you know what kind of plant this is? My aunt found

a few in her indoor planter box and we want to make sure it's something

some weed killer can just get rid of.” Jeremiah took the sample of grass

found in The Hand of God’s calling card out of his backpack and

showed it to Calvin’s brother.

“Damn, what’s your aunt doing to her plants?” That bad, huh?

“That’s vilinis. It usually only grows on soil that’s been properly burnt

by an incredibly hot fire, as its seeds tend to lie dormant when they’re

mixed in with grass seeds. Actually, there was this whole thing where a

bunch of people found that their grass seeds didn’t grow because half of

them were vilinis seeds. It tends to kill out grass when it does grow,

too. How’d your aunt end up burning her indoor planter box?”

“Core if I know.” So that ground had been burnt. The Hand of

God’s calling card, at least that time, was created by fire.

“Alright. Well, they’re resistant to most weed killers so you

might want to just overwater them or something if your main plants can

take that. Otherwise you’ll have to remove them manually. I say leave

them if the main plant is a hardier one, since they release pretty helpful

minerals back into the soil.”

“Will they ever die out?” How had the vilinis managed to stay

prominent for decades?

“Honestly? No. Those things will repopulate themselves

whether or not the soil has been reburned. It’s like- a whole thing. This

one study found that they could keep themselves alive and repopulating

without freshly burnt soil for almost a century just because of exactly

what chemicals they release.” A century, huh? That basically confirmed

that Alvarice had been murdered by The Hand of God using fire.

“Dang. Alright, well, I’ll let her know.”

“Yeah, man, glad I could help. Vilinis is pretty hard to identify

unless you know what color and vein pattern you're looking for.”

“Hey, Owen. Wanna join me on the dance floor for that last

hour?” Jessica asked, vaguely sauntering up to Calvin’s brother’s-

Owen’s- side. Owen grimaced ever-so-slightly before smiling and

nodding. Jeremiah blanched internally and left the reunion.

He had a yearbook to pick apart and another past ‘murder’

scene to investigate. He was fairly certain at that point that Thiago,

Wrath, and The Hand of God were all the same person, but he still had

to put together a cohesive story. Perhaps one that would explain just

why the Hunting Syndrome 17 writers had chosen an unsolved mystery

as their inspiration.

Part 21

“Hey Stella, have you played Hunting Syndrome 17?”

Optokinesis asked during the villains’ next heist- stealing a few

Pinnacle of the Core documents on route to Der Verde in order to both

plan their next attack and appease the Verojas Trio, who had asked for

proof of their accomplishments. At least, that was what Aunt Lucy had

told Jeremiah, as she was the only one with any contact with the

Verojas Trio.

“Yeah?” Jeremiah said hesitantly, trying to determine if

Optokinesis was trying to guess his secret identity. They were supposed

to be fighting, but, well… The media was too caught up with the actual

heist to care about a ‘battle’ in the basically unfilmable subway tunnel.

“Do you…” Optokinesis paused for a moment, as if hesitant,

“And you know it’s based off of The Hand of God?”

“Despite the fact that there’s not even a single suspect for

them? Yeah.” Jeremiah snarked. Optokinesis nodded.

“Do you have any suspects, then?”

“Why?” Jeremiah was quick to ask. Why did Optokinesis

think he would have a suspect for The Hand of God’s identity?

“Well, while it’s a cold case, it is still a case. I’m still

technically tasked with solving it, and I figured the guy with the

magical object of fire would have some ideas.” With… did Optokinesis

know about The Hand of God’s murder method?

“Why would fire be important?” Jeremiah asked. If

Optokinesis’ eye could narrow, it would have. They hummed.

“I think you know, Caustel. Or has the finger finally fallen

out.” Huh. Huh.

“So you know it was Wrath, then?” Jeremiah asked, folding

his arms.

“I do.” Optokinesis nodded, “And I also know that Wrath

didn’t actually betray the heroes.”

“What?!” Jeremiah asked, taking a step back to steady himself.

How did Optokinesis know that? Was it true? Why had Wrath been

locked up, then? Why had he burned the Pinnacle of the Core on his

way out if he didn’t betray the heroes? Why had he killed Alvarice and

faked his own death?

“Oh. Thought you’d already known. Peirein’s mentally too out

of it to filter their words and… revealed that tidbit of information.”

Jeremiah’s research had confirmed that, whether he wanted to accept it

or not, Dylan, Thiago, and Alvarice were basically the closest of friends

in their upper years, “The Keeper told them to apprehend Wrath, and

only then did he even learn of the guy’s secret identity. When civilian

Wrath got harmed in the fight and Peirein panickedly told the head

scientists about the magical metal in Wrath’s blood… things got ugly.

By the time the Keeper got around to fact-checking their suspicions, the

scientists had already claimed Wrath as an experiment and Peirein’s

apparently felt bad about it ever since.”

“...Why would I believe you?” Jeremiah asked, “Why are you

telling me this?”

“You don’t have to believe me, I don’t believe Perein, to be

honest, but you might as well look into it. I think…” Optokinesis

paused again, “I think things are going to, like, actually go down. If that

makes sense.”

“Actually go down?” Jeremiah’s voice was incredulous.

“Well, the Verojas Trio asked you to do this, didn’t they? It’s

no secret that they’re connected to The Hand of God. Stationing villains

in Sol Undra was just their first step. Getting information is presumably

their second.” Alright. So the villains were finally getting around to

targeting Sol Undra. What did that have to do with him, though? Why

should he care if villains were going to take over the city?

“And… why should I care?” If the Keeper had wrongly

accused Wrath, he had basically every right to go ahead and become

The Hand of God. Sort-of. Murder was still fundamentally wrong, of

course, but Jeremiah could understand where The Hand of God was

coming from, “You do remember I’m a villain, right?”

“Right.” Optokinesis nodded, “If you’d like to believe that.”

What did that mean? Jeremiah was actively distracting Optokinesis so

the others could steal classified documents, “Maybe tell your bosses to

be a little more discreet, though. The Keeper’s catching on, and not a

lot of people in the middle would be happy if they took out Sol Undra

next, without working their way up or something.”

“I can’t just talk to the Verojas Trio anytime, Opto.” Jeremiah

snarked. He hadn’t even seen the Verojas Trio in person, much less met

them. “Well, no, but can’t you talk to The Hand of God?”

Optokinesis asked, seeming confused, “They seem pretty close.”

“No?” What about Jeremiah made Optokinesis think he could

just… pop in and talk to The Hand of God?

“But isn’t he training you for your magical object?” The hero

only seemed more confused.

“No?”

“Then who is?”

“As if I’m going to tell you.” Jeremiah spat, knowing perfectly

well that he was basically self-taught and was just supervised by Aunt

Lucy. “Well, that makes it more impressive, I suppose.” Optokinesis

noted, “Though a bit blind-sided on their part. Has Triple not been

teaching Carcinoid about duplication, then? Has Vision not been

teaching Sigiforal?”

“Nope.” Come to think of it, it was a bit blind-sided, wasn’t it?

Afterall, everyone would do much better if they actually knew how to

use their magical objects.

“That’s…” Optokinesis trailed off, “I suppose they really are

that serious about their identities, then. I’d recommend reaching out to

them, at the very least. If just to explain the difficulty you’ve been

having with your fire.”

“Excuse you?” Jeremiah had gotten much better about

unneeded arson, thank you very much.

“Not being in contact with The Hand of God must make

communication harder, though,” Optokinesis continued, “Seeing as

they’re the only one based out of Sol Undra.” It was no secret that The

Hand of God had only killed in Sol Undra since Verojas had separated

from the Heroic Council- he’d killed approximately forty people- one

for each year since the separation, always on Verojan Independence

Day. It was a message, to be sure.

“I wouldn’t know.” Jeremiah said with a shrug. Optokinesis

hummed.

“Well, if you get around to it… Tell them I’m not sure what

their plan is, but as long as the conquering of Sol Undra waits to be a

public thing until there’s a line of cities connecting Sol Undra and

Verojas, I’m fine with it.” Wait- they were fine with the Verojas Trio

conquering Sol Undra, “If you could just flat-out get me in contact with

them so we could discuss the terms of Sol Undra’s takeover, that’d be

ideal, but I don’t mind a middleman, provided you don’t get your hopes

up about whatever deal I recommend.”

“That’s only if I get in contact with them, though.” Jeremiah

pointed out. He wasn’t exactly the type of guy to reach out to strangers,

particularly murderous ones.

“Of course.” Opto agreed with a nod. They looked at their

watch- a new addition to the costume ever since the warehouse was

burned down, “Well, you should probably get going now.”

As if on cue, Jeremiah got a message from Aunt Lucy. He

nodded.

“If I talk to the Verojas Trio, how do you want me to contact

you?” Jeremiah asked. Optokinesis was just as mental as the Verojas

Trio about keeping their identity secret. How would Jeremiah talk to

them without another battle?

“Email. I’ve got a personal work one that’s mostly just things

my assistant filters and forwards me, since it isn’t used even among

employees. Opto-dot-nauts, nauts as in N-A-U-T-S, not like in string, at

heromail-dot-com.” Huh. Just like that, Jeremiah had the personal work

email of Sol Undra’s top hero. Cool. Weird, but cool.

Part 22

“Oh Core, you weren’t joking when you said you needed to

get away from Brunel.”

“Hey!” Jeremiah scowled at Aunt Lucy, who had been mostly

silent during his explanation of the previous events, “You saw the

recording from my suit! Opto said it themself that they would be okay

with the Verojas Trio taking over Sol Undra. I just think it’s the kind of

thing they should know about.”

“Jer, I know where you’re trying to go with this, but

Optokinesis could’ve very easily just been trying to get information

about the Verojas Trio.”

“But they weren’t. You know how weirdly lenient they are of

us-” “Of you.” Aunt Lucy interrupted.

“And I genuinely think they just don’t care. They were willing

to have me as a middleman, meaning they wouldn’t know anything

about how to contact the Verojas Trio.” Jeremiah reasoned.

“Jeremiah, you’re just seeing what you want to see. If

Optokinesis knows they can convince you to reach out to the Verojas

Trio, they’re probably betting on being able to manipulate you into

providing more personal information about them. I don’t want you

getting your feelings hurt- or worse, for the Verojas Trio to come after

us. So I’ll talk to them, okay, and you just take a break, Jer. Focus on

your finals and play Scarlet Omen, or something.

“I… okay.” Jeremiah really did have to study for his finals

unless he wanted to get stuck doing one of the hardest classes as a

summer session. There weren’t any new installations in the Scarlet

Omen series, but one was scheduled to come out in two months. Maybe

he could replay some as a lore refresher, since Scarlet Omen wasn’t as

episodic as Hunting Syndrome.

“I’ll look through the evidence you’ve presented me, reach out

to the Verojas Trio, and get back to you, but until then I don’t want to

hear another word about working with Optokinesis.” That… made

sense. He didn’t want to annoy Aunt Lucy, too much.

“Fine.” Jeremiah muttered.

“Thank you, Jer.” Aunt Lucy said with one of her best

reassuring smiles. Jeremiah returned it with a weak smile of his own.

Part 23

“Hey, I heard you ran into Calvin’s brother at your one-year

academy reunion. I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff.”

Leave it to Rowan to immediately start a conversation as soon as they

walked into a room. Couldn’t he see Jeremiah was just trying to relax?

“I’m not.”

“Why’d you go, then? Even I’m not that attached to my

academy years.” Once again, the only people who actually went to

academy reunions- especially ones so soon after graduating- were those

who peaked in their upper years. Jeremiah knew perfectly well that the

only reason Rowan hadn’t demanded to come along was because they

didn’t want to see Heath.

“I had someone to see.” More like something, really. Rowan

didn’t need to know that, though. Jeremiah’s roommate sat down next

to him on the couch.

“Is this about what happened with the senior prank?” Suddenly

Jeremiah’s screen was about five times more interesting.

“No.” It really hadn’t been. He was past that.

“I think it is, actually. I know Calvin’s brother was involved,

somehow. Why don’t you tell me what he did?” Was Rowan trying to

give Jeremiah therapy or something?

“Why should I?” Wasn’t that incredibly unprofessional,

though? To provide mental health services to your roommate? It wasn’t

like Jeremiah was even that hung up over his upper years.

“Because I asked.” That was legitimately the worst reasoning

Jeremiah had heard in a long while. He raised an eyebrow, “And

because I’m your friend.”

“You’re my roommate, Rowan. There’s a difference.” No

offense- or maybe some offense- to the roommate in question, but

Jeremiah didn’t exactly view him as a friend. Jeremiah didn’t have

friends. He hadn’t had friends since- like- his middle years, when he’d

told his youth group that he didn’t believe in the Core.

“There is,” Rowan agreed easily, “I think we’re both, though.

You’ve actually tuned in to my rants these past few times.” He had, but

that wasn’t the point.

“Maybe I was always tuned in.” Yeah, alright, bad comeback.

Jeremiah had actively left the dorm room the first time Rowan had

come in complaining about his upper years boyfriend.

“No, you weren’t.” Rowan said with a smile, “But you are

now, so that makes us friends.”

“You have low standards.” As well as bad taste. Maybe

Jeremiah really had learned something from his time with Rowan.

“And you just so happen to meet them.” Wow, low blow.

Jeremiah hadn’t thought that Rowan had it in him, “Now tell me how

Calvin’s brother was involved.”

“He’s the one who approached me, I guess. Since I wasn’t part

of the friend group.” It had been a little off-putting when a student with

more than two friends had approached him and asked if he’d like to

plant a stink bomb in the gym teacher’s new room.

“So they wanted to make sure they weren't connected to it?

That’s silly. If they really thought it was all going to work out then why

don’t they just follow through with the prank themselves?”

“Core if I know. He said he’d wanted to give the loner kid

something to remember high school by.” Which was actually strangely

ominous, now that he thought about it.

“That’s messed up.”

“It’s… fine. He was one of the few who didn’t fight the court

case, even though his parents wanted to.” Owen’s cooperation had been

greatly appreciated, considering it meant far less work for Lucy and a

smaller portion of the fine for Jeremiah to pay.

“Still. I think it’s weird that he approached you for that kind of

thing.” “Maybe he was just trying to be nice. I don’t know what went

on his mind, honestly.” Now that Jeremiah was in college he could

safely say that he loathed teenagers without sounding like an absolute

hypocrite, even if he was still technically nineteen.

“I think… Jeremiah, do you remember that rumor about the

last time the gym teacher got a new room?”

“Uh… no? Wasn’t that a little before our time?” The gym

teacher hadn’t gotten a new room for decades, which probably led to

just how extra pissed he’d been with the prank. As if it wasn’t his own

fault for smoking on academy grounds.

“It was, by about sixty years.” Wait a minute- sixty years? “A

bunch of seniors ended up peer pressuring one of the juniors into doing

their prank for them. The rumor was pretty unclear if they’d planted a

glitter bomb or a stink bomb, but the inside of the room ended up

getting completely burned, and nobody knew why.”

“Do you remember which junior they recruited to do their

prank for them?” Jeremiah had the strangest feeling that he already

knew the answer to his own question.

“Dunno. It started with a ‘T’ or something,” Hole in one. What

had Thiago been doing in his upper years, to murder one of his best

friends and burn down the inside of a gym teacher’s office? “Anyways,

I just think that might’ve inspired them. Even if they didn’t know it

would end in a fire, if the same thing went wrong they could blame it

on someone else.” Yeah, that unfortunately made sense.

“Damn.” Jeremiah had really and truly believed that everyone

involved thought the stink bomb would go off normally. He’d never

know if it had been on purpose or not.

“Yeah. I’ll have a talk with Calvin about his brother. I mean-

it’s fine and all if he really didn’t know since he’s apologized, but if he

did know then that’s really messed up.” Wait, was Rowan really going

to risk an argument with his new-ish boyfriend for the sake of

Jeremiah?

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, man. Now, look what I just got.” Rowan lifted up a

plastic bag that Jeremiah had failed to notice previously, and removed a

small disk case, “You going to help me through this or what?”

It was a copy of Hunting Syndrome 1.

Part 24

“Hey, Jer.” Aunt Lucy spoke through the phone, “You in a

good spot to talk?”

“Uh… sure?” Jeremiah gestured to Rowan that he was going

to step away, and ended up in the hallway outside.

“Cool, cool. So, you remember us talking about Optokinesis?”

“And me trying to get them in contact with the Verojas Trio?”

Jeremiah had only just stopped thinking about Optokinesis those past

two hours, as he’d been busy showing Rowan the ropes of the original

Hunting Syndrome, “How’d that go?”

“Well, I just got off a conference call with the Verojas Trio

and Optokinesis, and I’ll be honest, I’m still a little shell-shocked.

Apparently Optokinesis is looking retire within the year.”

“They what?” Opto had only been a hero for a year, were they

really only planning to make it to two? Didn’t they know that they were

the most popular hero in the world?

“And they’re entirely okay with planting us as agents within

the Pinnacle of the Core until the Verojas Trio works their way up

here.” Agents? What did that even mean? “So- er- how would you feel

about becoming a hero?”

Part 25

“Excuse me sir, are you Thomas Ezeral?”

Jeremiah was having a mental breakdown. He’d never had a

mental breakdown before, but he’d heard them described as hysterical

sessions of shallow breaths and heightened senses. If he could, he’d

love to be curled up in a small corner somewhere bawling his eyes out.

Instead he was standing in the doorway of the Architect of the Era, the

very architect he’d learned was, in fact, The Hand of God. And Wrath.

And Thiago Esquivel. And, to some extent, Emma from Hunting

Syndrome 17. Small world, huh.

“That’s me.” He was a lot shorter than Jeremiah had imagined

him to be. Of course, he’d appeared short in yearbook photos, but

Jeremiah had assumed that it was simply because Dylan and Avarice

were both over six feet tall. Apparently Thiago- Thomas- whatever-his-

name-was- really was that short.

“I’m- er- I’m Jeremiah. I teach your grandson chemistry?”

Jeremiah had been instructed to simply introduce himself as he was,

since the Verojas Trio- and by extension the Hand of God- already

knew his identity. Anxiety crawled its way up Jeremiah’s spine as

whatever-he-went-by looked him up and down.

“Oh thank God, I was wondering when you’d show up for

help. Come in, come in.” The man- the richest man in the world-

ushered Jeremiah into his living room on the seventeenth floor of the

Irekes Tower, “Take a seat.” Said man gestured towards his blue satin

sofa and clapped twice, “Two teas, please.”

“Uhm-” The butler who’d appeared as soon as name-to-be-

determined had classpped scurried away before Jeremiah could tell

them not to add sugar to his. He cautiously sat down on the ridiculously

comfortable piece of furniture.

“Now, as much as I’d love to dig into you about your terrible

fire-wielding skills-” Hey! “I know that’s not why you came here.

Hopefully, though, it’ll be a reason to visit. Soon, I might add, before

you burn down more of the buildings I designed.” Huh. Jeremiah hadn’t

even thought about that. “Now, let’s get down to business: How to be a

Hero.” “Right.” Jeremiah pulled out the notebook and pencil he’d

brought in his backpack.

“Now, before you ask, you may address me as Mr. Ezeral. It’s

just easier. Alright. Step One. You may think that Step One should be

like- a hero name, or policy, or your costume. It’s not. Step One is

finding an assistant. If you know anyone who seems like they know

everything about heroes, and who you’d be willing to trust with your

life, they should be your assistant. People will tell you to take

applicants, to look for experience, but that’s whatever. You’ll be

working with two other heroes, who’ll each have their own assistants.

As long as one of ‘em has experience, the other two should be fine.

Now, have you got anyone in mind?”

“Er-” Rowan. Except not Rowan, because Rowan would

literally never shut up, “No?”

“Great.” Mr. Ezeral said with a nod, “Well, come up with one,

talk to them, get it sorted out. You’ll want an assistant lined up before

you go public, because they’ll be handling and filtering all of your mail,

all of your PR, and half of your paperwork. They’ll probably be writing

your speeches, too, so you want to make sure that they understand what

kind of image you're trying to curate.

“Step Two is a hero name and costume. Caustel’s gotta go,

and so does the armor. Tone it down a bit at least, you scare the

public.” Hadn’t Wrath been a pretty aggressive name, too? Jeremiah

hadn’t paid much attention to the costume, except that it basically

covered everything but Wrath’s fingers, “If you’re wondering about

mine, I was eight and stupid. You’ve got a lot more to lose, and less

people are willing to just pardon you for your terrible decisions since

you’re a legal adult.

“I do think armor would still work, if it can get a bit more

form-fitting and maybe gold- a more heroic color- with a few gaps

around the arms, if at all possible. So let’s think of a name. It’s gotta be

based on Stella- or at least something along that line- just because of

the vaguely positive publicity you’ve gotten regarding that.” Positive

publicity? Jeremiah would beg to disagree. Regardless, he wrote down

a few roots he felt sounded good-enough with ‘Stell’. There was no

way he was going with ‘stella’- that was just weird. Stella had been a

weird hero.

“Er- Egnistell?” Again, with ‘Egni’ vaguely meaning fire.

“Good. Great. It’s locked in now, so good luck. That’s Step

Three, everything is permanent. Like- everything. Everything you’ve

even once mentioned about politics? If there’s a reporter in the room,

it’s permanent. It doesn’t matter how much scrubbing the PR

department does, it’s permanent. So be careful. Be a weirdly stoic and

mysterious hero, if you have to. Just don’t say anything you’ll regret.”

Jeremiah was honestly beginning to regret even showing up. Sure, Aunt

Lucy had told him too, but it was weird being spoken down to by The

Architect of the Era, and also the guy whose middle finger was literally

hung around Jeremiah’s neck.

“What about things I do?” Jeremiah asked. Mr. Ezeral

shrugged.

“Don’t get caught. Alright- Step Four is publicity. Like I said,

your assistant should be handling all your publicity stuff, but you’ve

gotta craft your image, and it can’t be as a scary fire villain, anymore.

Maybe serious- take heroics very seriously. Or maybe loyalty- loyalty

to your aunt, civilians eat family stuff up. Serious loyalty? That could

work, and it’d explain why you let your aunt do most of the talking-

you don’t seem like a talker.” He wasn’t, thanks for noticing.

“Sir, your tea is ready.” The butler entered the living room

with a silver tray. They set the tray down on the waxed wooden coffee

table and turned to Jeremiah, “Sugar?” Jeremiah shook his head,

“Milk?” He shook his head again. Satisfied, the butler poured Jeremiah

a cup of tea and handed it to him on a little plate.

“Alright. So Egnistell, a no-nonsense loyal hero with a real

passion for getting civilians what they deserve. You thought it could

only be done through destruction, now your mind has been changed and

you’ve been turned towards the light. Wonderful. That’s a good enough

base, I think. Enough for the tower to show you the ropes.” Mr. Ezeral

nodded to himself, “Yes.”

“Um, excuse me?” Jeremiah waited for Mr. Ezeral to direct his

attention to Jeremiah, “Why… why isn’t Opto just showing me all

this?” Jeremiah hadn’t quite understood why Aunt Lucy had directed

him to The Hand of God rather than Optokinesis. Surely the current

hero knew more than the former, failed one? Mr. Ezeral stared at him

for a moment.

“...do you…?” Mr. Ezeral squinted, “Oh! Yeah, I should let

you know that The Keeper knows where all the heroes are every time

they’re transformed.” Oh, “So, you can’t talk to Optokinesis because

either the Keeper would know our plan or you would know

Optokinesis’ identity.” Right…

“Do you know their identity?” Did anyone? Did Opto?

“Nope.” Mr. Ezeral said with a shrug, “They’re a weird one.

Your identity will be made public, of course-”

“What?!” Jeremiah had not been informed that he would have

to go public.

“Well, yeah. Nobody’s gonna trust you, so you gotta give

them extra reasons to.” While that made sense, it still made Jeremiah

upset, “If it makes you feel better, having your identity public means

you get a room in the Pinnacle of the Core.”

“Wait, really?” That was actually… really nice. It also made

the purpose behind Jeremiah tutoring Brunel completely null and void,

as Jeremiah wouldn’t need a dorm anymore.

“Yup. An office, a bedroom, I think it comes with an attached

bathroom, too, but you’ve gotta share the kitchen and living room with

your fellow heroes.” Mr. Ezeral explained. Jeremiah… would only

need to share the kitchen with two other people? Why hadn’t anyone

told him sooner? He likely would’ve become a hero as soon as Aunt

Lucy offered him the magical object.

“And, if you don’t mind me asking,” Jeremiah continued,

“Why is the Verojas Trio okay with this? What if we- like- back out by

the time they work their way up here?” Mr. Ezeral raised a thick

eyebrow.

“You do know the consequences of crossing the Verojas Trio,

right?” He asked, “I’d, like, have to kill you.”

“Oh.” Well, that made sense.

“Yeah.” Mr. Ezeral nodded and took a sip of his tea,

“Anyways, in terms of that, we should take Midomous by June, Amaro

will be lined up by October, Dilawin should be good by next January,

Gular by that April, and we’re looking to get Der Verde occupied by

late July next year.”

“Ah.” That was… quick. The Verojas Trio was planning on

having a clear line to Sol Undra in just one a year, something villains

had been trying and failing to accomplish for as long as villainy had

existed?

“Do remember, I’ve been working on this my entire life. It’s

only now that the dominos are beginning to fall,” Mr. Ezeral reminded

Jeremiah with a chuckle, “By the time our supply chain to Sol Undra is

complete, it will be far too late for the Keeper to stop us or for you to

face repercussions. Just remember, even if we can assure you political

safety, you may be shunned by your peers.”

“Uh huh.” Jeremiah scoffed, “Like- maybe my roommate

would get mad at me, but I couldn’t care less.” That was… probably

honestly the only person in Jeremiah’s life he had to worry about,

which was both a little sad and incredibly nice. Aunt Lucy would likely

have to explain things to Day before the ‘betrayal’.

“Well, that’s good.” Mr. Ezeral nodded to himself, “Very

good, that you’ve surrounded yourself with supportive people. You’re

likely underestimating how much people you don’t even know will turn

against you, though. Don’t be too surprised if you get heckled, so I’d

say you have about until we get Der Verde to establish yourself as good

enough to betray the heroic council for.”

“Alright.” So he was working on a time limit. Jeremiah could

do that. In a year he would have his associate’s degree, so he would

have more time available for damage control than for image creation.

“So choosing an assistant is especially important, you need

someone who knows what you’re going for.” Mr. Ezeral stressed, “I

mean it.”

Right. An assistant. Jeremiah… Well, he only really knew one

person who would jump at the chance to work for a hero, or perhaps

two if Jeremiah could even claim to ‘know’ Brunel. Except, Rowan

would definitely not be okay with Jeremiah turning out to be a villain.

Well, becoming a villain? Having been a villain? Betraying the heroic

council as a re-ex-villain? Yeah…

Part 26

“Oh, so you still haven’t decided on an assistant, Jer?” Aunt

Lucy asked about a week after Jeremiah’s ‘lesson’ with Mr. Ezeral.

“Nope.” Jeremiah sighed, scrolling through the applicants

Optokinesis had put together from back when they had been in search

of an assistant. Core knew if any of them were still looking for jobs, but

it was better than nothing.

“I could ask Calvin if he knows anyone, if you’d like.” Of

course Aunt Lucy got to keep Optokinesis’ chosen assistant, while

Cassandra and Jeremiah were left looking through the scraps.

“That might be best.” Jeremiah reluctantly admitted.

Assistants probably knew other assistants, right? Aunt Lucy pulled up

her phone and sent a text to her personal assistant while Jeremiah

continued scrolling aimlessly.

All of them were just… lackluster. Severely lackluster.

“Um, remember Owen?” Lucy asked. Jeremiah blinked.

“Like- the Owen who almost got me in jail?” Yeah, he

remembered that one. Granted, he only remembered the man’s name

because of the academy reunion he’d gone to, but still. The incident

was hard to forget.

“Yup.” Aunt Lucy popped the ‘p’, “Apparently he’s doing

pretty good at, like, environmental law and Calvin’s fairly sure he’d be

up for the whole villainy thing.”

“I’m… not sure if I’d be willing to trust him.” Jeremiah

admitted. Not after… everything.

“Fair enough.” She shrugged, and typed a few more words.

Another moment passed, “Er- how about some guy named Charlie?”

Jeremiah shrugged, “Great, I’ll get an interview in.”

Part 27

“Good evening, citizens of Sol Undra,” Jeremiah squinted his

eyes to look at the crowd, nearly blinded by the stage lights above him,

“I am, still, Egnistell.”

His speech for that day was remarkably generic. Jeremiah had

been scripted to cover a couple of points on how the reconstruction of

particular businesses was going, as well as to remind citizens of the

viewpoints they would be taking to the annual conference in a week. It

was basic, but Jeremiah still ended up stumbling through it, nervous for

the event to come. It would be his first annual conference, afterall, and

the day he publicly announced his civilian identity.

“Thank you very much, Sol Undra. Have a lovely rest of your

evening.” In the days leading up to the annual conference each hero

was required to give a daily speech, which was not great for Jeremiah’s

college schedule.

“Hello there, Sol Undra! Optokinesis here.” Opto began their

speech, spouting off the different topics they had to cover in a way that

seemed both informational and inspiring. Jeremiah had never thought to

properly appreciate Optokinesis’ skill for public speaking until it was

that very skill which allowed him to slip away into the back room

without getting mobbed by various protestors and fans.

“Any idea why Optokinesis wanted us to stay after?” He asked

Lucy, who was already waiting in the room.

“Nope. You know Optokinesis, though. It could be anything

from their birthday to the scrapping of all of our plans.”

“Fair enough. How’re things going with Day?” Jeremiah had

found that, between heroism and community college, he rarely had time

to just hang out with Lucy. At the very least the heroism gig meant he

could quit tutoring Brunel, so he didn’t have to be quite so worried

about his aunt’s relationship.

“We’re doing quite well! It was a little stressful, with the move,

but things have settled down a bit.” Lucy informed him.

“How’re my favorite heroes?” Optokinesis returned from

giving their speech, having somehow avoided the crowd.

“I don’t know, can somebody call up Taco?” Opto huffed at

Jeremiah’s joke.

“Let’s not do that, actually.” It was a public secret that Taco

loathed Optokinesis, which Jeremiah thought was just hilarious, “I

meant you two. How are you guys feeling about the conference next

week?” “Oh, not too bad.” Lucy said, though she had admitted to

Jeremiah that she felt just as stressed as he did.

“That’s good. I’ll admit, though, I think even I’m fairly

nervous about announcing my retirement, so I just wanted to check in

on you two. Let me tell you, becoming a hero and retiring in two years

has been a hell of a midlife crisis.” Optokinesis joked. Jeremiah raised

an eyebrow.

The average age of retirement for heroes, not counting all

those who died early, was 34. Jeremiah severely doubted that

Optokinesis had been about 32 when they started, though he’d yet to

prove anything. In any case, even a young adult doing the things

Optokinesis had done was impressive.

“You really speedran heroism, didn’t you?” Jeremiah didn’t

think he’d ever respected Optokinesis more.

“I suppose I did,” Optokinesis confirmed, further solidifying

Jeremiah’s belief that the hero was not in their thirties, “Well, I will be

staying in a city nearby, so I’ll still be around to steal my object from

the Keeper if anything goes wrong.”

“Don’t tell me you’re staying in Der Verde.” Jeremiah joked.

Optokinesis’ eye, if it could, looked sheepish, “No.”

“Er- yeah. That’s where I’m moving.” Opto turned away, “It’s

not far, and you have my email, so don’t hesitate to reach out. Though,

I doubt there will be any new villains in Sol Undra seeing as all the

magical objects belong to either the heroic council or the Verojas Trio.”

“That is true.” Jeremiah nodded, “Though, that’ll make

advertisement harder.”

“Don’t worry,” Optokinesis assured them, “I’ll pull a

marketing stint or two. Well, that’s really all I wanted to talk to you

about. Keep up the good work.”

Part 28

“Hey, Jer.” Rowan was stretched out across the couch, phone

in hand.

“Hey Rowan. The dorm burn down while I was gone?”

Jeremiah settled onto the floor and loaded up Silver Onyx 3.

“I don’t think so.” Rowan shrugged noncommittally.

“How was your date with… what was his name again?

Emilio?” Jeremiah asked. Rowan had broken up with Calvin recently,

though the situation had been fairly calm compared to the whole

Heath… thing.

“Eh, it was fine. We both agreed at the end that it was just a

one night stand, though, so not much of a date.”

“Damn.”

“It’s whatever. He was nice, but we just didn’t click, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” Jeremiah nodded empathetically.

“Hey, which arc of that are you on?” Rowan asked, turning to

Jeremiah’s game screen. Not for the first time, Jeremiah regretted

accidentally introducing Rowan to videogames.

“The second one.”

“Aw, really? Third one’s where it gets good.” Rowan turned

back to his phone, and Jeremiah huffed, “Oh, don’t be like that. At least

it’s not based on an actual serial killer.”

“Yeah.” Or, well, a kind-of serial killer? Like, Mr. Ezeral had

killed people, but also- Jeremiah knew why. It was like labeling a mafia

member a serial killer. While technically correct, it also… wasn’t.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more glad to just be an ordinary

citizen.” Rowan admitted. Jeremiah smiled sadly.

He… wasn’t an ordinary citizen. He’d been a villain, once, the

kind that robbed banks, destroyed factories, and sabotaged water

towers. He’d been a criminal before, too, when he’d accidentally blown

up the inside of the gym teacher’s new room with a stink bomb. At

present, though, Jeremiah had taken on the role of a hero. It was his job

to keep the citizens of Sol Undra safe and happy, while spreading the

ideals of the Verojas Trio throughout the city and the world. He could

do that tomorrow, though.

Right then, he was just a college student playing a video game

and hanging out with his roommate, and that was all he really needed to

be.

Part 1

“Good afternoon, citizens of Der Verde. As many of you may

know, there was a bomb attack on the 5th floor of 3124 8th St on the

fourth of this month. The Der Verde Hero Office has discussed its

options, and I am here today to announce our plan going forward.

“The building repairs will be covered by the Villainous Action

Repairments Act. VARA will cover the total cost of both labor and

materials, but it will not cover the missing proposed income of

Tammy’s Barber Shop for as long as it takes to complete the repairs.

This will instead be taken out of the Proposed Income Loss Charity

Fund, to which I recommend every citizen make a contribution.

“The budget of the Civilian Attacks Department of the DVPD

will be increased by ten percent next fiscal year, to prevent more

terrorist attacks like this from happening. Currently, Tammy and their

family are under the care of the Der Verde Hero Office due to the

Civilian Care Act, and I can guarantee that my people are taking good

care of them.

“If you'd like to help Tammy’s family and others like them,

please consider donating to the Proposed Income Loss Charity Fund at

the pop-up booth or purchase some official merchandise online. Twenty

percent of all of Der Verde’s merchandise profits for the upcoming

month will be donated to the Proposed Income Loss Charity Fund.

“Thank you so much for coming out to meet with us this

afternoon, and please remember to keep yourself and your family safe

by supporting the heroes. Let us once again thank the Core that no lives

were lost in the terrorist attack last Thursday, and that we have enough

economic stability to cover the losses. Der Verde will continue to

thrive.” Taco’s blunt and ineloquent speech was met with a roar of

applause, despite its inferior quality. In fact, much of Taco’s speech had

been adapted from the Hero Office’s meeting minutes.

“Hey, kiddo! Great speech as always!” Melody approached

Taco with a wide smile. Bluntness was, fortunately, an aspect of Taco’s

heroic character- an easy label for the general populace to slap on and

adore. “Thank you, Melody.” Taco stepped off the stage, greeting

their mentor and allowing her to gently lay an arm over their shoulders.

By contrast, Melody’s speeches nearly always had to be at least five

minutes long and reviewed by three members of the PR team.

“Are you moving your stuff, yet? I want to be able to tell the

Brunsten’s that they’re moving into your ward of the office.”

“I’m planning to do that now.”

“Ooh, are you? Best be going, then, before anyone learns

you’re leaving.” Melody recommended. While there were not many

people allowed behind the stage of the Vereverde Convention Center,

the backstage exit was very open to the public eye. Taco had been

swarmed with reporters and fans alike the last time they tried to leave

that way.

“It shall be much easier once you have started your speech.”

Taco gestured to the stage entrance. It seemed like the sponsored

advertisement was coming to a conclusion.

“That it will.” Melody agreed with a smile, preparing to step

forward and face the crowd. Taco waited for Melody to get into her

speech for a few moments, before opening the backstage exit and

quietly navigating to the Hero Tower.

Their ward was just as they had left it- every room entirely

bare save for the office, which Taco would continue using to separate

hero work from university work. The rest of the ward had been cleared

to make way for Tammy Brunsten and her family, since the repairs of

their barber shop had been estimated to take four weeks at the very

least. Four weeks seemed to Taco an awfully long time to be without

employment, but to be fair they had been working since they were four

years old. Unemployment was an unfamiliar concept to them. At least

they could provide the Brunsten family with a comfortable place to live

during that time, though Taco had initially been hesitant to move out.

Fortunately for Taco’s short-sightedness, the University of Der

Verde required all full-time students to live on campus during their

freshman year in order to cultivate the proper community setting. While

it was inconvenient for Taco, as well as many other students who had

employment near their home, Melody had a strict policy about staying

out of the education system. So, Taco picked up the two cardboard

boxes which contained their necessary personal belongings and made

their way to the University of Der Verde.

Arriving at the university was awkward, as Taco had expected,

due to all of the eyes following them with awe. It was natural to be

recognized on the street, but Taco had spent much of their life in the

Der Verde Hero Office, where very few would bat an eye at a passing

hero. Was carrying both boxes to their room too noticeable? Perhaps so,

but if anything it was a demonstration that the civilians of Der Verde

were being looked after by a strong and independent hero.

Taco’s room was on the fifth floor of the dorm building. It

was, fortunately, a suite-style dorm, but Taco would have to share the

kitchen and living space with three other students. Simply being on the

fifth floor presented some challenges as well, one being that Taco

would have to forgo the privacy of stairs to take an elevator. There was,

unsurprisingly, another student in the elevator when it arrived.

“Wh-” The civilian quickly caught themself and slammed a

hand over their mouth. They did not, however, step out of the elevator,

so Taco waited a moment more. The elevator doors were beginning to

close again, yet the stranger had yet to leave. Taco stepped into the

space, causing the doors to open once more and the civilian to break

their trance and scurry to the main doors.

Ideally, the newness of having a hero on campus would die

down after a few months.

Another civilian was in the hallway of the fifth floor, fiddling

on their phone and anxiously shifting their weight between their legs.

They also just so happened to be in front of Taco’s door.

“Hello.” Taco greeted easily. The stranger looked up, and

Taco watched as their face lit up in the recognizable pattern of so many

faces before.

“Oh shit, that’s Taco.” They took a quick step back, “Like-

they told me Taco was in my dorm but Great Core.”

“Good evening.” Taco tried again, a bit displeased by the

civilain’s reaction.

“H-hey! I’m- uh- I’m Sawyer.” The civilian held up a hand to

shake. “I am Taco; I use they/them pronouns.” Not that people didn’t

already know that, but it was still polite to introduce oneself. Sawyer

and Taco shook hands.

“I- uh- I was actually just texting a friend who’ll also be in our

room.” Ah, so two of Taco’s roommates already knew each other?

Splendid. With any luck they’d be able to distract one another, “I forgot

my keys, so he offered to let me in.”

“Ah.” Taco pulled their own set of keys from their pocket. A

civilian in distress was a situation they could handle better than an

awkward roommate, “I can save them the trouble.”

“You want any help with those boxes?” Sawyer asked as Taco

moved to open the door, as if they had not noticed that Taco’s hand was

already free to use the keys.

“No.” Taco shook their head. Perhaps Sawyer had simply been

attempting to be polite. They opened the door.

The room was fairly unimpressive, though all Taco had to

compare it with was their fairly massive suite at the Der Verde Hero

Office. The shared space held a rather unassuming loveseat and two

comforters, set upon a gaudy rug. From their place in the doorway, the

kitchenette was similarly sized. Importantly, there was no dining room.

“It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.” It seemed that Taco’s first

roommate was poor, “I call one of the comforters.”

“Very well.” Taco considered ‘claiming’ the other one, though

it was unlikely they would be in the common space for longer periods

of time. Would it be considered rude?

“Which room would you like?” Ah, right. Their rooms were

not assigned. Considering the sheer number of emergency leaves Taco

would be forced to take, it would be wise to claim whichever room was

closest to the door. They pointed to the room in question.

“That one, if it’s alright.”

“If it’s-” Sawyer laughed, “Dude, you’re Taco! You can have

whatever room you’d like.” That was reassuring, though hopefully the

civilian would not be asking for autographs or selfies any time soon.

Taco had to be careful about which images of them they allowed the

public to see.

“Thank you.” There was no keyhole on the outside, which

likely meant that Taco would only be able to lock the room if they were

inside. They made a mental note to get their own lock and opened the

door. The bedroom was fairly unassuming, the bed even more so.

The room held nothing but a twin mattress and its frame next to a

wooden dresser. That was it. There was hardly any room for Taco to

walk, let alone set up their desktop. Perhaps it could go on the dresser?

They would have to get a chair into the room, but that was easy enough.

“I think I’m taking this room!” Sawyer shouted from the

common area. Taco set their boxes down on the mattress and popped

their head out of the door to add Sawyer’s room to their mental map.

“Alright.” Taco mentally filed that Sawyer was in the room

closest to Taco’s own. If Taco had any conference calls, they would

need to make sure that Sawyer was out of the dorm and thus unable to

listen in on them through the thin walls.

“Oh hey, Emilio. Sorry you had to come over on a false

alarm.” Sawyer greeted someone, voice near the door.

“No problemo, man. Ya said another roommate was around?”

The other civilian asked. Taco figured that then was a good time to

introduce themself.

“Uh huh. You’ll never believe this, Em, but it turns out we

randomly got assigned-”

“Taco.” Emilio finished Sawyer’s sentence, staring at Taco

open-mouthed.

“Good evening.” Taco felt a little bad for making Emilio

interrupt Sawyer.

“Oh my Core, they speak just like them.” Emilio gushed,

making Taco cock their head a bit. What did that mean?

“They do, don’t they? Well, they’re the one who showed up

with a key.” Sawyer explained.

“Dang man, I thought you were pulling my leg.” Emilio wiped

their hand on their pants before holding it out, “I’m Emilio, the he of

the him.”

“I’m Taco, I use they/them pronouns.” Despite having wiped

his hand on his pants, Emilio’s hands were remarkably sweaty. His grip

was firm, too, making the whole experience a bit uncomfortable. Taco

refrained from letting such sentiments seep into their body language.

“This is soooo cool,” Emilio squealed, “Wait- have you met

Optokinesis? Core- could you tell me about them?” Taco had met

Optokinesis, but it had all-in-all been a rather unpleasant experience.

Their fellow hero was a bit overbearing, to say the least.

“Chill, Em.” Sawyer said as Taco let go of Emilio’s hand,

“You can’t just go raving about your favorite hero to everyone you

meet.” Ah. Fans of Der Verden heroes living in Der Verde were

generally at least slightly deranged, but never so much as fans of Sol

Undran heroes living in Der Verde. Something about the distance

between them and their favorite heroes just made them all the more

fanatic. “Why not? Optokinesis is just so cool, man. They practically

changed-'' Taco carefully tuned out the words they had heard many

times before. The ex-hero of eyes’ world-wide cult of personality was

something to be feared, if not a little bit respected.

“Em!” Sawyer smacked Emilio in the back of the head quite

violently before turning to Taco, “I’m so sorry about him.”

“It is quite alright. I meet Optokinesis fans quite regularly.”

Taco said honestly. None of the experiences had been good.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emilio asked, rubbing the

back of his head where Sawyer had hit it, “I’ll have you know-”

“Is this room 302?” Another civilian strode through the front

door, which Emilio had remissly left open.

“Great! So all of us are here,” Sawyer clapped their hands

together, “Let’s introduce ourselves and lay out some ground rules.”

The newest arrival thankfully closed the door behind themself.

“Can I put my stuff down, first?” They seemed rather miffed

by Sawyer’s initiative, “Which rooms are already taken?”

“Those two.” Sawyer gestured at the rooms in question.

“Great.” As the stranger made their way across the common

area to the room farthest from the door, Emilio and Sawyer sat

themselves down on the carpet. Taco followed suit.

“We playin’ spin the bottle or something?” The stranger, upon

return, was not impressed.

“Nope! Come join in anyways.” Sawyer’s unrelenting

positivity was doubtless going to get on Taco’s nerves at some point.

The newcomer sighed dramatically and closed the circle, “I’m Sawyer,

and I use they/them pronouns. Emilio, you’re next.”

“I think I’m gonna get a bump.” The man in question had not

yet stopped rubbing his head, “I’m Emilio Corrigan, and I use he and

him.” “Kay, she/he” Their newest roommate, Kay, had spoken

straight and to the point, which was something Taco could get behind.

“My name is Taco, and I use they/ them pronouns.” Taco did

in fact have a professional coach fairly early on in their hero career who

had taught them how to introduce themself, so they considered their

tone sufficient.

“I can’t believe we got roomed with a hero,” Kay scoffed,

leading Taco to believe that perhaps their introduction was not as

friendly and in-character as they would have liked, “Couldn’t they have

let you stay in the hero office or something? It’s not far.”

“I expressed similar feelings, yet community remains one of

the University of Der Verde’s highest values.”

“Hey, this way they get stuck ‘round here with us!” Emilio

cheered, as though completely oblivious to Kay’s animosity.

“Now, we’ve obviously gotta have some extra rules to help

Taco out. I think some basic stuff- no autographs, selfies, live streams,

quotes, or anything like that should do the trick. Do you still have that

personality release form?” Sawyer asked, turning to Taco.

“I do. Please write down your email addresses for me at some

point today.” Taco would need to forward the addresses to their

assistant, since they themself did not have access to the form, and then

their roommates could sign it, “I additionally ask that you keep clear of

the fire exits, should I need to be anywhere quickly.” Even if Taco’s

power was teleportation, they could not teleport to anywhere they could

not see and thus could not teleport out of the room without a door open

or a window.

“Whatever.” Kay said with a sneer.

“Some more classic stuff, then,” Sawyer continued, “No sex in

the dorm, no leaving dishes for more than twelve hours, try to clean up

when you can, that kind of stuff.” Thankfully, it seemed that all of the

ground rules were completely rational.

“Please tell me there won’t be a curfew, or something.” Kay

groaned, earning herself a grimace from Emilio.

“Light out in the common area at midnight, at the very latest,”

Sawyer continued, “Lights on at five or so. Taco, you have the

exception for emergencies.”

“Thank you.” The villains of Der Verde, unfortunately, did not

have office hours.

“Why do they get an exception?” Kay asked loudly.

“Because they’re a hero? I mean- we shouldn’t exactly prevent

them from saving lives.” Sawyer explained. Taco was fairly certain that

they could sue a civilian for getting in the way of their work, as Melody

had done so several times and the result was never pretty.

“Right, well, I think it’s stupid. What if I get a midnight shift

or something?” Despite his hostility, Kay had a good point. Criminals

were not the only people working at night.

“Then you show us your schedule and we’ll give you an

exception.” Sawyer reasoned. Their terms seemed fair enough, so Taco

nodded. It was important to show engagement in small-group

conversations.

“Uh huh. Y’know what? Fine.”

“Wonderful!” Sawyer clapped their hands together, “Now, I’ll

be writing down the rules to tape them right here in the common area,

but I’d like to remind everyone that these rules can be changed. I

recommend it, even! Just call a meeting when everyone is in the dorm

and we can talk it out. Kay and Emilio, here’s some paper for your

email addresses.” They passed out slips of paper and a pen, then drew a

sharpie and a folded up piece of construction paper and began writing

out the ground rules.

“Soooo, Taco,” Emilio began as he handed Taco his email

address, “Do you know Brunel Irekes personally?” Brunel Irekes? hat

name belonged to the heir to the Irekes Foundation, did it not? No, they

could not say that they did.

“Not personally, no.” In truth, Taco likely would not have

been able to come up with the name on their own.

“Well, apparently he’s chosen to enroll himself at our college

too. Some of my pals have been saying it’s ‘cause he wants to get

closer to you.” Emilio winked, but Taco was just confused. Why would

Brunel Irekes want to live in their general vicinity?

“Why?” Taco did not like rumors speaking about them,

particularly when the rumors were harder to understand.

“Closer to you.” Emilio repeated, as if it were a code for

something.

“He means his friends think Brunel wants to date you.”

Sawyer clarified. Ah. Well, that made much more sense. Taco had

never met Brunel Irekes, of course, but a partnership between them

would most certainly bring some much-needed income into Der

Verde’s economy.

It appeared that they would have a bit of research to do after

unpacking.

Part 2

Taco was going to have to reschedule their speech to the 19th

of December. While this would normally be painless, Taco had very

specifically scheduled that speech to coincide with the date that

Tammy’s Barber Shop was scheduled to reopen, so that they could

include the good work of the people as one of their topics. Giving their

speech a couple days later wasn’t too big of a deal as the date was not

even public, but it unfortunately meant that the topic would not make as

big of an impact.

Theoretically, they could also just ask the professor of their

Linear Algebra class to let them take the final exam at a later or early

date, but they wanted to build up their reputation as a student who only

rescheduled when it was truly important. Was a speech really that

important, or would it obstruct their ability to reschedule a final exam

missed with no notice due to a villain attack? All of Taco’s professors

thus far had been remarkably kind regarding their status as one of the

protectors of Der Verde, but who could tell who they would have for

the spring semester?

With that in mind, Taco forced themself to draft an email to

their personal assistant, requesting that their speech on the 18th be

rescheduled to the 19th. They attached their syllabi for the upcoming

semester as proof that the speech really did need to get rescheduled and

quite possibly rewritten, and then just crossed their fingers in the hope

that their personal assistant would not drop them like their last one had.

All it had taken to lose their last personal assistant was a slight

changing of the words in a speech the PR team had written.

They could understand the reason why the personal assistant

before the last had left, though. Taco had not particularly wanted them

hired, anyways. They had written up a speech that was remarkably

discriminatory to those who came from low income households, and

Taco could simply not say such terrible things. Hence why Taco had

ripped up the speech and burnt it before simply reciting their own

speech- a much better one, in their opinion.

Taco’s new assistant seemed a lot more lenient than their last,

and certainly much less prejudiced than the one before that. Taco could

only hope that they were flexible enough for such short notice,

considering that the requirement had been put on the job listing. Did

they need to increase the pay, or perhaps add more benefits? Taco sent

over their email and headed downstairs for lunch.

As if being required to live in the university dorms was not

enough, all freshmen were also required to subscribe to a special meal

plan that charged them for fifteen meals a week. Taco was on a special

diet, sure, but they had also seen the hero office’s budget for the year.

They could not afford to not take advantage of the university food.

“Oh hi, Taco.” Why was an unfamiliar voice addressing them

so informally and casually? Taco turned away from the card swipe

machine. Was that Brunel Irekes?

“Mr. Irekes.” They dipped their head in greeting and scanned

their meal card, heading into the cafeteria.

“It’s nice to meet you in person. I suppose you’re getting a late

lunch as well?” Brunel Irekes did the same. Was it really a late lunch?

Taco had not noticed, but their trainer would likely get on to them

about improper meal schedules later.

“Yes.” Given the fact that they were currently in the cafeteria,

Taco thought it was fairly obvious.

“Do you mind if I accompany you?” Brunel asked, following

Taco as they navigated to the salad bar. Actually, Taco minded very

much, as having other people watch them eat made them… very

uncomfortable. It probably had something to do with the people who

had stalked them in the past, as well as the fact that those same people

had distinctly stopped stalking them when they turned eighteen.

“Not at all.” Of course, refusing him could be seen as

remarkably rude, and Taco needed whatever business deal he was

willing to propose.

The Irekes family was the wealthiest family in the world.

Thomas Ezeral- Eden Irekes’ father- who was the Architect of the Era,

had designed the Irekes Tower himself, and was just in general the

wealthiest man in the world. Petr Irekes had invented an entire line of

household appliances which were currently found in the homes of about

84% of the population, and his model of the cell phone had become the

standard- owned by about 98% of the population. Eden Irekes was the

real genius behind her husband, though, as the powerhouse behind the

Irekes marketing department. Brunel Irekes was… Well, actually, all

Taco could find on Brunel Irekes was that he was some cryptid who

spouted conspiracy theories that earned him one or two articles simply

because he was too rich for journalists not to care. Despite the bad

press, he still had very powerful connections.

“Wonderful!” Brunel Irekes watched as Taco loaded their

plate with various vegetables. They were trying to measure out exactly

half a cup of broccoli, “Now, isn’t it odd that Optokinesis was so close

to the villains?” Taco blinked.

“S-sedition and Slander?” Surely Brunel Irekes knew that

criticizing Optokinesis was illegal?

“Oh, yes, but I like to think of it as just another rich-person

tax. It’s not like you couldn’t use the money, right?” Der Verde’s

economy had been struggling for a long while, it was not exactly going

to bounce back because Brunel Irekes decided to pay a ridiculous

number of fines for criticizing Optokinesis.

“I am not the one to be talking about this to.” Technically, no

one was, but Taco especially.

“Ah, if you insist.” Brunel Irekes said with a shrug. Taco

glanced at Brunel Irekes’ tray, trying to find a way to change the

conversation topic.

“Do you not have a nutritional plan?” It seemed unlike the

Irekes family to let their heir roam free and consume as many calories

as he would like. Most rich families wanted only the best for their

children.

“No, I don’t.” Brunel Irekes answered simply.

“I do.” Why did he not have a nutritional plan? Taco had used

a nutritional plan since they had first become a hero, in order to operate

as the best hero they could be.

“Good for you.” Brunel Irekes informed them as Taco

prepared to leave the salad bar. Was Brunel Irekes really going to get

nothing? Taco glanced at Brunel Irekes’ tray again, to find that he had,

in fact, selected a food item.

“A pineapple?” They could hardly contain their confusion.

Brunel Irekes had a whole pineapple- complete with the leaves, on his

tray. Nothing more, and nothing less.

“It eats you back.”

“What?” Taco asked with a blink.

“Pineapple? The enzymes in pineapple break down meat, so it

eats you back.” Brunel explained. Taco navigated to an empty table and

watched as Brunel Irekes sat down across from them, vaguely

wondering how Brunel Irekes would even eat the pineapple.

“That… is there any way that is healthy?” It was just so…

odd. Taco could not imagine eating that much pineapple in a single

sitting, much less as their entire meal. They usually knew better than to

ask about other people’s eating habits, but they were curious.

“Nope.” Perhaps the media had been right. Perhaps Brunel

Irekes was really, truly, insane.

“Oh.”

“Hey, Taco! Do you think I could get your autograph?” Taco

turned to the stranger, who was holding Melody’s autobiography and a

Taco-official pen.

“Of course.” Taco smiled, glad that the fan had taken away

from the awkwardness of wondering how Brunel Irekes would eat an

entire pineapple. Taco signed the front page.

“Thank you. Holy Core, thank you.” The fan took their pen

and very quickly scuttled away, leaving Taco alone with Brunel Irekes

once more.

“Glad I’m not you.” Brunel Irekes said. Social niceties were

clearly not his strong suit. Had his parents not been giving him

publicity tutors?

“I increase unity among the citizens of Der Verde.” Taco

explained. As long as civilians loved heroes, they would not turn to the

villains.

“Oh do you? Well, I think it’s just annoying. What are a

couple of autographs, anyway?” Taco bristled at Brunel Irekes’ words.

“They are a way to connect with the individual.”

“If you say so,” Brunel Irekes said with a shrug, “I think that’s

just an excuse you tell yourself because you don’t have a better crowd

management program for your time here.” Taco had a perfectly

functioning crowd management program, actually, even if it was not

ideal, “I can tell you right now that there’s a crowd of at least one

hundred students outside of the cafeteria waiting for you to leave so

they can get autographs.” Taco glanced at the exit.

“So there are.”

“Now, I’ve been in the public school system my entire life. I

can provide them with a brief distraction so you can escape, but my

cooperation comes with a price?” A price? Who was Brunel IRekes to

offer them a commodity for a price?

“Which is?”

“Your continued company.” Brunel Irekes answered simply.

Taco’s eyes narrowed. Company? No, that could not be it.

Taco held virtually the least economic and political power of

all the heroes, even compared to the ex-villains of Sol Undra. Was

Brunel Irekes simply starting small in order to work his way up? What

business did he have with the hero industry?

“Why?”

“Perhaps I just need the company of another famous

individual. Perhaps I am seeking to make a name for myself. Are you

going to question it?” Yes, they were. Had that not been what Taco had

just done? Taco spared another glance to the crowd gathered at the exit.

It seemed that their numbers had grown considerably.

“I have managed the crowds so far.” Taco had weaved their

way through crowds of thousands on their first official day at the

university. Those in the surrounding area, even if they were not

students, had gathered for pictures and autographs or simply to touch

Taco with their own hands. Taco had made it through them, so surely

they could make it through another hundred or so fans.

“Have you? Now, I seem to remember a scandal where three

of the crowd members from last week had to be rushed to the

emergency room for injuries sustained while being trampled?” Yes,

three members of that crowd had sought emergency services. Their

recovery had been fully funded by the Der Verde Hero Office, which

had been an almost embarrassing blow to their city funds.

“Yes. There are not nearly as many people here.” The

university also had security guards who would step in if things got too

violent, meaning that everyone involved should remain mildly safe. The

injuries had happened off of the university campus.

“Well, no, but you see, all three of those people reported that

most of their injuries came from college students. You vastly

underestimate how strong the mob mentality can be.” Did they? Taco

had not received that part of the report, “College students can be

particularly vicious, as they’re rather new to adulthood.”

“We are college students.” Taco pointed out. While they were

rather new to adulthood, they were not exactly about to trample

someone else on their way to collect an autograph.

“That we are.” Brunel Irekes agreed with a nod, “Look, go out

there if you’d like. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Taco sighed,

about to simply refuse when, as if on cue, their emergency contacter

began beeping. Villains had attacked.

Taco glanced at the crowd once more. There was absolutely no

way that they could teleport with that many people in their landing spot.

Yet, they could not just sit there until the crowd had dispersed. Taco

glanced at Brunel Irekes, who was rather pointedly staring at their

emergency contacter.

“Alright, yes. Please distract this crowd for me this once, and I

will join you for lunch again tomorrow.” Taco conceded. Brunel Irekes

smiled and rose from his seat, pineapple in hand. He made his way to

the exit.

“Hello, students of the University of Der Verde. I am Brunel

Irekes, as you may well know, and I’m here to demonstrate why

pineapple should be a banned food.” Brunel Irekes then proceeded to

crush the pineapple with his bare hands, throwing chunks at various

students who shrieked and screamed and, all in all, began to disperse.

Taco was able to quickly transform and teleport through the gaps,

making their way out of the crowd quickly.

Upon reaching the other side, Taco turned on their locator and

started off towards the attack. They had a city to save.

Part 3

“What is the damage so far?” Taco teleported to Melody’s side

the instant she was within eyesight.

“They’re trying to take down this apartment complex. Can you

run damage control?” As always, it was Taco’s responsibility to make

sure civilians stayed safe during a villain attack. Melody’s power was

the one more suited to battle.

“Of course.” Taco scanned the apartment building. It seemed

that all visible civilians had been taken care of, so they would be

sweeping individual rooms for the majority of the battle.

Taco began on the closest floor, opening each room door and

shouting into it before beheading up the stairs to the next floor. Every

once in a while the floor would shake with one of Cacophony’s attacks.

On the seventeenth floor, Taco found a civilian who had been put to

sleep by Subcortical and quickly teleported them out of the building.

Taco continued their search through the remaining floors,

pleased to find that only five civilians were still inside their rooms.

Either Melody had taken care of the rest or they had effectively

evacuated. Taco liked to think that their regular speeches on safety and

evacuation drills had finally reached the civilian populace.

“Give it up, Melody!” Dischord shouted, prompting Taco to

turn their head towards the inter-building walkways, where the battle

was taking place. Dischord had Melody pinned to the ground.

“I don’t think so.” Taco quickly teleported to the scene and

threw Dischord to the floor, freeing Melody.

“I see you’ve finally decided to join us.” Subcortical sneered,

moving quickly to activate his power. Taco moved faster, though,

kicking the flute out of his hands.

“AH!” Cacophony had moved towards Melody’s still-prone

form, and was standing on her back in a way that made Taco physically

uncomfortable. Had that cry been from Melody?

“Head out!” Dischord ordered, prompting the villains to

scatter in various directions. While Taco was tempted to chase them,

they rushed to Melody’s side.

“Melody, check in. Are you alright?” They asked. Melody

most certainly did not look okay.

“And here we are at the scene of yet another villain attack,”

Oh Core, the media had arrived, “It appears that the villains have

retreated, but our heroes were not left unscathed in their defense. Just

behind me you can see Melody on the ground, obviously injured.”

“Can you get a medic over here?” Taco asked the reporter,

trying to be polite. They did not want to risk making the injury worse

by teleporting Melody, since she just… was not responding.

“I- uh-”

“Please move out of the way, sir,” Medics who had previously

been treating civilians and had already been on the scene rushed to

Melody’s side, “How did this occur?”

“Cacophony stood on her back.” Taco answered as honestly as

they could.

“I think we might have a broken spine here, Carl.” A broken

spine? “Fuck. Bring over the stretcher!”

Taco watched in surreal horror as Melody was loaded onto a

stretcher and taken away in an ambulance. They had meant to follow

the vehicle, but the media had swarmed remarkably quickly, lured by

the tell-tale signs of a story. Taco had not even really seen what

happened, why would they be able to tell the reporters about what had

happened? How were they supposed to state what they were feeling

about the situation without even knowing what the situation was?

Eventually Taco got out of the crowd of reporters and began

moving towards the hospital. Melody was on the top floor, they knew,

as that was where the heroes were supposed to go after every injury.

The doctors there had signed all sorts of personality release forms and

nondisclosure agreements that ensured they could not reveal the heroes’

weaknesses to anyone for any reason. Taco could only hope that

Melody’s injury wasn’t too bad.

“How is she doing?” Taco asked Dr. Loper, the heroes’ shared

physician, who was standing next to Melody’s cot.

“Not great. Her spine popped out of place, and we think it

might take surgery to get it back there.” Surgery? Wouldn’t that take a

while? “When will she be able to recover?” Taco asked. When would

Melody be able to return to hero work?

“Honestly? We have no idea. I’d say the fastest we could get

her out of here is in two weeks, and the fastest she could start physical

stress is in a month. Even then… I’m not sure if hero work would be

safe to do for at least three months.”

“I ca not be the sole hero of Der Verde for three months.”

Taco had barely held their ground against the three villains with

Melody at their side, how were they expected to protect civilians

without her?

“I have a suggestion.” There, on one of the equipment tables,

was the Keeper. Taco did not quite know how the Keeper managed to

appear wherever it was needed while avoiding detection, but they were

not about to ask.

“Please.” They prompted.

“Simply get another hero. A temporary one. Somebody to fill

in for Melody, and maybe even pretend to be Melody while she’s out of

commission. If the villains learn that they have successfully put one

hero on bedrest, they will be more encouraged to launch future attacks.

If we find somebody to impersonate Melody, they will think that their

plan has failed.” Alright. That made a lot of sense. If the villains were

confident they would attack, and if they were not confident then the city

would remain relatively safe.

“Who would play the role of Melody?” Taco asked

skeptically. It was nearly impossible to change your costume after your

first magical transformation, as it was meant to be a reflection of your

inner soul. There had never been two magical object users with the

same costume in all of recorded history, afterall.

“I think it would be best if we continue this conversation in the

hero tower.” Taco turned to Dr. Loper, who was very purposely

busying herself with the medical equipment.

“Okay.” The hero tower was just across the street from the

hospital, for understandable reasons. The Keeper and Taco were able to

walk there in approximately two minutes, and arrive at Taco’s office in

a mere four.

“You believe that there is no way somebody could viably

change their magical costume within such a short period of time,” The

Keeper pointed out. Taco nodded, “To this I counter you: Optokinesis

certainly did. Remember what they originally wore? They changed

their costume in less than a month.” Optokinesis was the exception to

nearly everything though, were they not?

“They changed their outfit, true, but not to be an except replica

of someone else’s.” Taco countered. Simply put, no one had the same

soul as another person, and Taco had never met anyone exactly the

same as Melody, not even Melody’s own sister.

“True, true. Nevertheless, I believe that I have found a

candidate whose magical potential is far greater than Optokinesis’.”

More magical potential than Optokinesis? That seemed fantastical,

perhaps even impossible.

“Who?”

“You’ll find the civilian file on your desk. They’ve never been

a hero, but their blood work shows remarkable compatibility with

magic, particularly with Melody’s object.” The Keeper gestured to a

manila file which had not been on Taco’s desk earlier. Taco hesitantly

picked the file up and opened it.

“Brunel Irekes?”

“Surprising, no?” The Keeper asked. Surprising was one word

for the coincidence. Taco had only first spoken to Brunel Irekes earlier

that day, “I most certainly found it odd.” Well, of course it had found it

odd, magical compatibility was determined based on a person’s parents.

If their parents wielded a magical object, it was easier for them to wield

a magical object. The problem was that the Irekes family had never

held a magical object… in the heroic catalogs, that is.

“Did-?”

“I have no idea.” The Keeper responded before Taco could

even ask, “But, in any case, he’s shown great potential.”

“And if he is unable to mimic Melody?” No matter how great

the magical potential, changing one’s costume was exceptionally

difficult.

“We’ll remove the object. He shall have two weeks to perfect

the costume and if he fails I shall come up with another plan.”

“Won’t someone realize that it’s not Melody?” Taco

wondered. Even if Brunel Irekes somehow managed to perfectly mimic

her costume and memorized her speeches, mimicking her personality in

battle would be much harder.

“Oh, people can be much blinder than you think, particularly

when it comes to heroes.” The Keeper’s tail swished lightly, “I think

you’ll find yourself pleasantly surprised, is all. Think about it.”

“Alright.” They would need to draft a particularly long

contract for that kind of deal, but hopefully it would be worth it. If

Brunel Irekes could really keep the villains from knowing that they had

put Melody in the emergency room, he might not need to fight much at

all. “I do recommend you make your choice as quickly as

possible. Who knows when the villains might attack next?” With those

closing words, The Keeper swept through the door to Taco’s office, and

Taco flipped to the second page in Brunel Irekes’ file.

Brunel Irekes. He was eighteen years old, his birthday was

June 27th, and his blood was type AB-. He had maintained perfectly

average grades in every subject- save for a few dips in Chemistry in

academy. One of the three articles written about him compared his

grades to his father’s and mother’s, while the other two featured actual

quotes from Brunel Irekes and covered his tendency towards conspiracy

theories.

“Ah, Taco. Your entrance wasn’t reported through the

recorder's desk.” Taco’s personal assistant entered the office without

knocking. What was their name again? Via? Olive?

“I came in with the Keeper.” Taco explained.

“Well, if you’re here, I must inform you that your damage

control after the villain attack earlier was lacking, and that I’ve yet to

receive any word about Melody’s condition on my end.” Taco’s

assistant noted.

“Would you be able to draft a speech about the matter for

tomorrow afternoon?” Taco asked, “Melody is in need of surgery and

will be out of commission for a couple of months, but The Keeper has

proposed some alternative solutions. Namely, it believes it has found

someone who would be able to transform into a replica of her costume

and keep civilians and villains unaware of her status. I’ll have to run

things through, but could you start putting through some NDAs?”

“Very well, I shall begin a draft.” Taco’s assistant nodded

dutifully and stepped out of the office, leaving Taco to read the rest of

Brunel Irekes’ file.

Part 4

“Good evening, Taco.” After nearly a full semester of never

seeing Brunel Irekes, Taco had seen him exit the dorm across from their

own. “Good evening. Thank you for your assistance in avoiding that

crowd.” Perhaps gratitude was the way to go? Taco had not been

expecting to see Brunel Irekes again that day.

“Ah, think nothing of it,” Yes, gratitude was the way to go. It

usually was, “Thank you for defending the city another day.”

“Actually, I’d like to speak to you on that matter,” Taco had

decided, rather reluctantly, to give Brunel Irekes a try in the hero

industry. Luckily, the fact that they owed him lunch gave them the

perfect opportunity, “I do owe you lunch tomorrow, do I not? Would

you like to join me in my office at one pm?” Taco was not looking

forward to Brunel Irekes seeing first-hand how much Der Verde needed

the Irekes Foundation’s money.

“Oh?”

“Of course. Your assistance was quite valuable for my timely

arrival at the scene of the attack, and I would like to discuss some

things with you.” There it was- a hint that Brunel Irekes needed to

prepare before their meeting the next day.

“Oh?” Luckily, he sounded rather intrigued, “I suppose I’ll see

you at one, then.”

“Yes.” Taco politely dipped their head and walked past Brunel

Irekes towards their door.

Sawyer and Emilio were both in the common room sitting on

the couch and playing some video game. Sawyer glanced up as Taco

entered the room, though Emilio continued fiddling with his controller.

“Welcome back, Taco. Sweet job dealing with the attack

today.” One thing Taco had not been prepared for, when heading to

university, was the number of compliments their roommates would give

them after every attack.

“Thank you.” Taco quickly moved past the duo on the couch

and towards their personal room. They had homework to complete,

afterall. “Hey, did Melody turn out okay?” Emilio asked, prompting

Taco to pause.

“Yes, thankfully.” They lied. Hopefully Brunel Irekes would

be up to the task.

Part 5

“Mr. Irekes is here for your one pm appointment.” Taco

startled at the sound of the intercom. It was rare for them to receive

messages from the front desk, and even then those messages tended to

be sent via electronic messaging.

“Send him up, please.”

Taco paged through the contract their assistant had drafted one

last time, checking for any error. Everything seemed up to bar, though

they had decreased Brunel Irekes’ time limit to one week in light of a

bomb threat the Der Verde Hero Tower had received that morning.

“Hello?” They set down the file and looked up at Brunel

Irekes. “Please, take a seat,” Taco prompted with a smile, “I’ve

prepared some sandwiches for the two of us.”

“Oh, no need. I’ve brought my own lunch.” Brunel Irekes sat

in the chair on the other side of Taco’s desk and removed a pineapple

from his backpack.

“I don’t expect any crowds today?” Taco’s statement sounded

more like a question, but their point still stood. They had assumed that

Brunel Irekes had only gotten a pineapple the day before because of the

trick he had pulled with the crowd.

“Hence why I expect to eat it today.” Brunel Irekes bit into the

pineapple rind, chewed, and swallowed, “Now, what would you like to

talk about?”

“Lunch first?” Taco suggested. Simply put, they were not sure

that they would be able to hold a reasonable conversation with Brunel

Irekes ate an entire pineapple. The process of watching him just make

their skin crawl in a way they weren’t prepared for.

“Alright.” Taco hesitantly picked up a sandwich half from

their plate, watching in horror for longer than was socially acceptable

as Brunel Irekes took his second bite.

“Any good?” They found themselves asking as Brunel Irekes

finished his bite.

“Of course! I love pineapples.” Brunel Irekes said happily,

“How’s your sandwich?”

“It is nice.” Taco had, in hindsight, ordered the hero office

chef to prepare far too many sandwiches. They had wrongly assumed

that Brunel Irekes would be eating some, as there was no way that Taco

could finish three sandwiches on their own. Their plan had been to only

have half of a sandwich and then get a salad later.

“That’s good, that’s good. What kind of sandwiches are they?”

Brunel Irekes asked.

“Turkey.” Turkey was a fairly lean meat, which also contained

plenty of protein.

“Cool. I like to make ham sandwiches, but turkey’s great as

well.” He liked to make ham sandwiches? Just… make?

“Okay.”

“So what’s your favorite color?” Brunel Irekes asked.

“I like green.” Taco didn’t really have a favorite color, come

to think of it.

“Well, Der Verde and all.” Brunel Irekes chuckled lightly.

“What?” What did the city have to do with Taco’s favorite

color being green?

“Der… You know what, nevermind.” They had wanted an

answer to their question, but it appeared they weren’t going to get one,

“Do you have a favorite food?”

“I like celery.” Celery was one of the few snacks that Taco

was allowed to snack on, since it had so few calories and plenty of

dietary fiber.

“Celery?!” Brunel Irekes exclaimed, “What kind of

psychopath likes, much less favors, celery?”

“Uh…” Taco wouldn’t necessarily describe themself as a

psychopath for liking celery. Brunel Irekes took another bite of

pineapple, “What about you? Do you have a favorite food?”

“Oh of course! I love chocolate.”

“Then…” Taco frowned, “Then why are you eating an entire

pineapple?” If Brunel Irekes was really going to go all out, wouldn’t it

make sense to eat a bunch of chocolate?

“Because it eats me back? Didn’t I tell you that already.”

“I suppose you did.” It didn’t appear as though Taco was

going to get any elaboration, unfortunately.

“Do you like pineapples?”

“Not particularly,” Taco shook their head, “They make my

tongue feel weird.”

“But that’s the best part!” Why would a weird feeling on their

tongue be the best part? “Oh well, I guess they’re not for everyone.”

“You don’t like celery.” Taco pointed out.

“I like celery.” Brunel Irekes defended. Hadn’t he just claimed

that anyone who liked celery was a psychopath? “It just isn’t my

favorite though.” Huh.

“Are there any foods you don’t like?”

“Oh, sure. I hate chocolate.” What?

“I thought chocolate was your favorite food?” Taco was only

growing more and more confused. How was chocolate both his favorite

food and a food he didn’t like?

“Oh, it is. It’s my favorite because I hate it! I just find it so

fascinating, you know? How can something so popular taste so bad?

People are truly weird.” That… wasn’t what Taco had been taught, but

who were they to judge another?

“I suppose so.” See, Taco actually quite liked chocolate. They

weren’t allowed to have it ever, but they had gotten a chocolate cake

for their birthday party a few years back and had ended up sneaking one

of the chocolate chunks decorating the cake. It had been one of the best

things they had ever tasted, though the chocolate they were allowed to

have on a regular basis was downright disgusting.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Brunel Irekes asked,

having finished his pineapple. Taco had only taken about three bites of

their sandwich slice, which they set down.

“Melody got injured in the battle yesterday.” Taco began.

“I know that.” Well, nearly everyone knew.

“She won’t be back on the field for at least three months.”

Taco continued.

“Wait, really?” Brunel Irekes had the appropriate reaction to

such terrifying news.

“Yes. Now, this is obviously a problem. However, the Der

Verde Hero Office has decided to keep this information from the

public, and thus the villains, in order to prevent further attacks.”

“You can’t just pretend that one of your heroes doesn’t exist

for three months.” Brunel Irekes pointed out, reasonable.

“No, we can’t. Which is why we will be replacing her with

someone capable of mimicking her costume and mannerisms.”

Hopefully Brunel Irekes would see where Taco was going with this.

“Who? Nobody’s ever been able to get an exact replica of

somebody else’s magical costume.” Evidently not.

“You.” Brunel Irekes was, predictably, surprised. Taco

elaborated, “The Der Verde Hero Office has received some of your

blood samples and determined that you are compatible with magic,

particularly Melody’s magic.”

“The choker of control?” Not only was it concerning that

Brunel Irekes knew about magical objects in general, apparently he

knew what Melody’s magical object was called. Taco frowned.

“Yes.”

“But- what?” Taco would be confused, too.

“You will have one week to mimic the hero costume of the

hero Melody and three weeks to adjust to her personality before you

will be required to start making speeches. If you fail, your magic will

be returned to the Keeper at the end of these time limits. If you succeed,

your magic will be returned to the Keeper as soon as Melody recovers.

Several people in the hero office, including mine and Melody’s

assistants, have already signed contracts regarding this exchange. I have

a different contract drafted for you, if you’d like to read over it.

“Yes, please.” Brunel Irekes eagerly took the stack of papers

and began flipping through them. He looked up, “Do you think I could

have some time to think over this?”

“Yes. However, you must stay within this building, you may

not speak to anyone, and you must get back to me within four hours.”

Taco explained.

“Wow, that’s… strict. Okay. Alright, I’ll look through it. Do

you have any rooms that I might have to myself?” Brunel Irekes asked.

“I can have my personal assistant lead you to the private

breakrooms.”

“Oh, Viv?” Brunel Irekes visibly perked up, “She’s so nice,

you know?” So Viv was her name? That was good to know. Taco was

bound to forget it again, but it was still good to know.

“I’ll call her up.” Taco pressed the non-emergency call button

on their bracelet and only had to wait a moment before Viv knocked on

their door and entered.

“How may I be of assistance?”

“Would you please escort Mr. Irekes here to an unoccupied

breakroom? Do ensure that his file remains private, as well.” Taco had

already discussed the potential addition to their staff with their assistant

earlier that day, when Viv had been drafting the contract. Hopefully

she’d understand the underlying importance of keeping the contract

under lock and key.

“Of course. Please, follow me.” Viv left the room, closely

followed by Brunel Irekes. Taco started a small timer for four hours and

sat down to complete some paperwork.

Paperwork was both the best and worst part about being a

hero, in a way that Taco did not mean lightly. Completing paperwork

meant that Taco had time to get away from everything: the villains, the

civilians, and the personal assistants. It was also extremely grueling,

and the repetitive task of reading different forms regarding property

damage occasionally put them to sleep. In addition, it was almost

embarrassing to sign their name on all the forms. Taco didn’t have a

last name, either, which was something that had always bothered them.

Somehow, despite the fact that they were raised by Melody in the Der

Verde Hero Tower, Taco had never been formally adopted. Every

signature was a reminder of that.

“I’ll sign.” Taco glanced up from their desk, and then to their

timer. Brunel Irekes had made his decision in a mere two hours and

thirty-seven minutes.

“Grand.” They said with a smile as he took a seat once more

and picked up one of their many pends, quickly scribbling a name on

the last page.

“I know this isn’t anywhere specifically in the contract- but

my parent’s can not hear about this.” Of course. It would reflect badly

on the Irekes family if their heir was off pretending to be another hero.

“We can do that. The oath of silence goes both ways.” It was

only fair, afterall.

“And Melody’s personal assistant will help me?” Ah, Mr.

Kraas. Taco sincerely doubted that he would actually be helping

Brunel, but perhaps it was best to leave that out.

“Should you successfully mimic her during this week, yes.”

Taco confirmed.

“I’ll come to you when I’ve got it done.”

Part 6

Unfortunately, Taco’s suite-style dorm only had one

kitchenette, which was in the common area. Every morning, without

fail, they would go out to make their tea on the stove and Sawyer would

be sitting on the couch. The morning after their agreement with Brunel,

however, Emilio joined Sawyer.

“Hey, Tacster. So this is when you’re out and about?” Emilio

asked. At least Sawyer had the general decency to sit and complete

their homework in silence.

“I suppose so.” They were ‘out and about’ a lot of the time,

which was part of the reason why they were in the dorm so

infrequently.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, but what is it really like

being named after a food?”

“It’s a marketing strategy.” Taco pointed out.

“Yeah, but like, hasn’t it ever been weird to try and introduce

yourself as Taco? Like- you aren’t even hisp-'' Sawyer firmly kicked

Emilio in the shin. Not even what? Perhaps Taco would never know.

“I generally don’t have to introduce myself.” Most people

already knew who they were. Taco may not be Optokinesis, but they

were still rather popular. Or, at the very least, well-known.

“I guess that makes sense.” Their answer had satisfied Emilio,

“So like- are you and Brunel really dating?”

“What?” Why would they be dating? Taco had only seen

Brunel Irekes three times and he was, quite frankly, a little strange.

“Well, everyone saw how you were having lunch together the

other day, and then someone claimed to see him going into the hero

tower yesterday, so it’s pretty much confirmed for most people.” Why

would they assume that? Was that why it had been so difficult to avoid

the media on their way back to the dorms the day before? “I support

you two!”

“We aren’t dating,” Taco turned on the electric kettle, which

made a satisfying ‘click’ noise, “We were discussing the terms of the

Irekes Foundation sponsoring a Der Disco booth again.” They were,

technically, discussing the terms through assistants and emails with

Eden Irekes.

“Wait- so you two aren’t dating?” Sawyer asked. “But then

why did Kay challenge Brunel to a duel last night?”

“Kay challenged Brunel to a duel last night?” Why would she

do that?

“He accepted, too. Everyone’s sure it’s some scripted face-off

to win your affections.” Why would Kay beating up Brunel Irekes win

Taco over?

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Taco pointed out. If Brunel

Irekes was trying to win Taco over, he wouldn’t have consumed a

whole pineapple in front of them. They were fairly certain that it was in

one of their social rulebooks somewhere.

“Huh. Well, guess I gotta pay Patricia back on my bet, then.”

Emilio sighed. Taco was fairly certain they had made gambling illegal

under the age of twenty-five, but they weren’t going to point that out.

“You might want to rush your tea then, Taco,” Sawyer

advised, “I know there’s at least two articles on you two already and the

Snail Paper group chat hasn’t shut up all night long.” So the university-

sponsored newspaper was gossiping about them? Unfortunately, right

along with Melody’s refusal to mess with the school system was her

refusal to mess with student-run organizations, so Taco would be

unable to scrap the tories. They sighed.

“Very well. When is this duel?” Perhaps Taco could convince

one or both parties to call it off. Emilio and Sawyer exchanged a

glance. “Uh… four in the morning?” Emilio said. Taco sighed again

and poured the steaming water into their mug.

“Swell.” They would not be able to watch the duel, though

perhaps that was in their best interests. Taco had been working to

outlaw the practice of dueling in Der Verde for as long as they’d had a

vote. Thus, going down to watch a duel would not reflect well on their

convictions.

They began to regret not checking their email before they

came out for tea every morning. Taco had no doubt that their personal

assistant would have some choice words for them, but hopefully she’d

also have a speech written up for discouraging future duels. Then again,

the people who tended to participate in duels tended to be the same

people who ignored speeches. An advertisement campaign could work,

but Taco had tried one before, and it had failed horribly. Taco sighed

and waited for their tea to finish steeping.

Sure enough, Taco had received approximately seven emails

in their personal inbox since the night before, all from their personal

assistant. She was rather concerned, understandably, about the whole

situation, especially since Brunel Irekes would ideally become a hero in

approximately a week. Taco’s assistant had already drafted four

speeches depending on who won the duel and how, and had scheduled a

public announcement for ten in the morning. Ah well, Taco hadn’t

wanted free time to themself anyway. It tended to just make them

anxious, really.

They pulled up the overnight articles, out of curiosity. Many

of them, those that weren’t based out of the university, were still under

review by the Der Verde Hero Office. The Snail Paper had gotten their

hands on a picture of Brunel Irekes leaving the Der Verde Hero Office,

with one article covering Kay’s inevitable downfall once the Irekes

Foundation got their hands on him and Brunel Irekes’ own past as a

‘delinquent’. The other was, predictably, about the alleged relationship

between Brunel Irekes and Taco. Did Taco know why Kay supposedly

would be willing to go to arms about Brunel Irekes and Taco getting

together? No, no they did not.

“Hey! The livestream’s beginning if you wanna watch it with

us.” Sawyer called from the living room. A livestream? Why would

anyone livestream a duel happening at four in the morning? They

reluctantly headed out to the living room.

“Popcorn?” Emilio asked, gesturing to the large bowl in his

lap. “No, thank you.” Taco sat down on the opposite side of the

couch and turned towards the screen.

Brunel Irekes and Kay were standing across from one another

in a chalk circle, one that was required by law to be five feet in

diameter. If either of them stepped out of the circle, the other would

win. If either of them began to bleed, the other would win. It seems that

they had voted against weapons, which was both a good thing and a bad

thing. It certainly meant that they were less likely to die, though it also

meant that the duel would take longer.

“Are you both ready?” The duel master asked. Both

participants nodded gravely, though only Kay raised her fist. There was

already an ambulance on site, which was a good sign for the continued

health of both people involved.

“I heard he beat up like three kids at his old school.” Emilio

whispered loudly to Sawyer. Did he truly believe the Snail Paper

article? “Please. No offense, but I was there when that was written.”

Sawyer pointed out.

“And- start!” The duelmaster shouted, taking a step back. Kay

took the first swing, which landed squarely in the air and rocked her off

balance. Taco hardly had time to blink before Kay was violently thrown

into the crowd, sliding slightly on the sidewalk.

“What-” The duelmaster began.

“Holy fucking shit, did anybody see that?” The person holding

the camera interrupted loudly, “Did anybody get that in slow-mo?”

“What just happened?” Sawyer asked, staring numbly at the

screen. Taco couldn’t help but sympathize.

“This just in: The Core is real and the Irekes family is blessed.

Caught on video.” Emilio narrated, prompting Taco to frown.

“Load him on!” One of the doctors who had rushed to an

unconscious Kay shouted, ushering over a stretcher.

“Hey, stop the video.” Thankfully, one of the watchers next to

the camera person had some common sense.

“No way, man. I’ve gotta see how this plays out.” The camera

person instead zoomed in on Brunel Irekes, who was still standing in

the circle.

“So did I win?” He asked, face betraying nothing but utter

confusion.

“Yeah, man, I think he’s out of the circle.” An audience

member laughed.

“Sweet.”

“I’m serious, turn that off.” A large hand came and covered up

the camera feed for a moment before the screen went dark.

“I mean- that was certainly something.” Sawyer muttered.

“So, you feeling swooned yet, Taco?” Emilio asked, leaning

towards them on the couch.

“Not really.”

“Welp,” Emilio just shrugged, “Guess we’ll see how the chips

fall when the slow-mo comes out.”

Part 7

“Oh good morning, Taco.” Taco was exceptionally glad that

Brunel Irekes had been the one to answer the door, considering they

didn’t exactly want to take their frustration out on a random citizen.

“What was that?” They asked.

“What was what?”

“The duel.” Of course Taco was talking about the duel. It had

only been three hours ago, afterall.

“Oh. What about it?” Taco felt their eye twitch.

“It’s not good for publicity.”

“So?” What did he mean- so? “I’m not going public with my

identity, am I? Who cares what Brunel Irekes is doing?

“A lot of people, actually.” Taco snapped, “Do you have any

idea how many people are talking about your duel? How many people

are already speculating that we are in a relationship simply because we

had lunch twice?” Was Brunel Irekes simply oblivious to his

following?

“Oh. Really?” Apparently so.

“Yes.”

“Well then, just don’t be associated with me.” Brunel Irekes

simply shrugged.

“I can’t just stop rumors, particularly not on a university

campus. You are also my one and only way of ensuring that the villains

do not raze this city to the ground during Melody’s absence.”

“I didn’t mean that!” Brunel threw his hands in front of his

chest, forcing Taco to realize that they were invading his personal

space, “Look- you have someplace somewhere where you practice your

magic in private, don’t you? We’ll just meet up there. I walk in at 7:00,

you walk in at 7:30, problem solved.”

“I… suppose the old factory would work.” The old

merchandise factory had fallen into disrepair about five years ago. Taco

had yet to raise enough money to convert it into a working building, so

it was simply a warehouse.

“See?”

“That does not change the fact that there are rumors about the

two of us- rumors which I cannot normally deal with due to the Der

Verde Hero Office’s system of not messing with education. You also

got into a duel, and I have been working very hard to outlaw duels. The

popularity of your stunt this morning is not helping.” In light of the

confusing outcome, Taco’s assistant has sent them three speeches to

memorize depending on the energy level of the audience.

“I thought it was a good way to practice fighting villainy?”

“Melody is a long-range fighter, Brunel Irekes,” Taco pointed

out, “How were you expecting to fight like her when the fight hardly

lasted a minute?”

“I mean- Melody’s go-to in close-range combat is to get her

opponent on the ground, isn’t it? She’s really big on using their weight

against them, too. I figured practicing my ability to use my opponent’s

weight to throw them to the ground would be a good thing.”

“You threw her to the ground?” The slow motion cut of the

duel hadn’t been released yet, but nearly everyone involved had

assumed that Kay tripped somehow.

“...Yes? Did you not watch the duel?”

“I…” It had honestly been a little embarrassing that Taco

hadn’t been able to keep track of what had happened as they blinked,

“You are going to need more practice than that.”

“Then we practice in the warehouse.” Well, yes, they supposed

that made sense,” About an hour after the Core goes dim today? Does

that work for you?”

“Yes. I look forward to seeing how far along you have come

with our project.” They were both still in a relatively public place, so

they didn’t want to mention replacing Melody.

“Oh, I’m coming along.” Good. That was good.

Part 8

Taco was exhausted. Their personal assistant had coerced

them into giving a fifteen minute speech regarding how bad dueling

was for the community, and had scheduled a full anti-dueling

convention for March. Then, because that wasn’t enough, Taco had to

plan half of the convention themselves and had spent the rest of the day

preparing for a miniseries to be released at the convention. Their

assistant had managed to get a professional production team on the

case, thankfully, so there wasn’t much Taco needed to do except act.

The world had no interest in giving them a break, however, as

Taco had to meet with Brunel Irekes. They were not entirely sure what

progress could be made in a single day on something as intricate as a

hero costume, but hopefully it would give them an accurate growth

projection for the end of the week. So, unfortunately, it was helpful and

they did have to go. Taco took a deep breath and reluctantly opened the

door to the warehouse.

“Oh, Taco, you’re finally here!” Finally? Hadn’t Brunel Irekes

been the one to schedule their meeting for after the Core went time?

The Core was not yet dim

“I am.”

“Great!” Brunel exclaimed as Taco closed the door behind

him, “Y’know, I’m so grateful for your speech against dueling. It was a

little stressful when Kay challenged me and all.”

“You accepted, though?” It was completely allowed and even

considered honorable to simply reject an invitation to duel.

“Well, of course I did!” Brunel said, surprised, “I’m not sure

how things work in Der Verde, but it was very rude to reject an

invitation to duel in Sol Undra.”

“As long as you have a proper justification, rejecting a duel is

socially accepted here. The only one it’s rude to is the person who

initiated the duel.” Taco pointed out.

“Why would I want to be rude to Kay?” Brunel Irekes asked,

“I think it’s just unfair that duels exist, is all, since you don’t want to be

rude and deny the invitation. It’s not like I could just lose once I

accepted, either. Not with that crowd.”

“Well, I am trying to outlaw dueling.” Dueling had accounted

for one third of all civilian injuries in Der Verde in the past ten years.

“Which, as I mentioned, I am exceptionally grateful for.”

Brunel Irekes flashed Taco a particularly toothy grin. Did he simply

have a wide mouth or were there legitimately too many teeth in that

smile? “How are your magical transformations going so far?” Taco

asked, gesturing to the choker of control. Brunel Irekes shrugged.

“Ah. So-so.”

“Do you mind showing me?” Taco was there to collect data on

his transformation, afterall.

“Not at all!” Brunel Irekes lightly tapped the choker.

Faux-Melody was actually a lot better than Taco had

anticipated. The general shape of Melody’s costume had been

replicated, as well as some of the details, though the coloring was a bit

off. The bright blues of Melody’s true costume were far duller on Faux-

Melody’s, and the vibrant golds were obviously silvers. In addition,

Faux-Melody’s mask was completely inaccurate. Rather than being two

puzzle pieces put together over the face, it was a rather large set of blue

and silver wings.

“Well, that’s certainly something.” It was quite lovely,

actually, though lovely likely wasn’t the right word.

“Isn’t it?” Faux-Melody’s voice was near-perfect, too, save for

differences in tonality, “I’m actually quite proud of it, so far.”

“You should be.” Taco said, honestly. They had been

struggling and failing to change their hero costume ever since they’d

gotten into the business, “What’s your technique?”

“I meditate, usually,” Meditation? They had tried that plenty

of times before, but it never seemed to do anything, “I dunno. This

afternoon I transformed, stood in front of the mirror, and dissociated for

a bit and when I came back the gray was blue.” Gray and silver? What

kind of hero costume had brunel Irekes been in originally?

“That’s quite interesting, actually.”

“Would you like me to demonstrate? I’ve been working on the

mask for some time now, but it’s just not quite in place. I’m sure if I sat

here for another ten minutes or so I could have it all done.” Ten

minutes? Perhaps the Keeper had been right in recommending Brunel

Irekes. “Go ahead.” Taco had assignments to complete, but those

could be done on their mobile device while Brunel Irekes was

meditating.

He sat down on the concrete floor of the abandoned factory

warehouse and took a deep breath. Taco pulled out their phone. Like

any other university, the University of Der Verde had general education

requirements that students had to complete in order to get a degree in

anything. Taco had been hoping to avoid biology for their time at the

university, but had instead chosen to get it out of the way in the first

semester. Thus, they completed the worksheet as Brunel Irekes sat.

“I think I’m done.” Taco looked up from their work. Yes,

Brunel Irekes was nearly done, and Faux-Melody could be on the field

as long as the camera was low quality. A few of the finer details were

still missing, but the silver was gold, the blue was vibrant, and the mask

actually looked like Melody’s.

“That’s great.”

“Thanks! Though, I will admit, I have absolutely no idea how

to summon and play the lyre Melody uses.” Brunel Irekes’ smile was

exceptionally weird on Faux-Melody’s face.

“Do not worry, you may practice summoning the lyre later,”

Taco advised. Brunel Irekes still had six days, afterall, “Actually, I am

not sure Melody knows how to play the lyre when she is transformed,

so you should not have too many problems.” Taco had learned the hard

way when they’d tried to ask Melody for music lessons only to learn

that she didn’t know how to read music, or play music, or… anything,

really. Melody was actually quite tone deaf.

“Oh, really? You don’t hear that in the papers.” That was

because nearly all papers went through the Der Verde Hero Office

before they were given approval for publishing.

“You don’t hear much about us in the papers.” Due to budget

cuts in the Der Verde Hero Office, the PR office didn’t have time to

comb through all of the reports before they were irrelevant.

“I guess not. Far less than Optokinesis, anyways. Isn’t it kinda

weird that the hero with a secret identity gets more interest than the

hero without?” It wasn’t actually, it was just psychology, “I mean, I’m

fairly certain nobody’y ever asked you what your favorite pair of socks

are in an interview, but it came up at least twice in Optokinesis’ two-

year career.”

“Socks?” Taco would admit that they hadn’t kept up with the

Optokinesis interviews, but that seemed a little ridiculous.

“Socks. All for a hero that was going to retire not even two

years after their debut.” Brunel complained. Taco had never really

thought about which pair of socks was their favorite. Perhaps it was the

ones with the triangles? They barely wore those though, since they only

had one pair and most outfits called for black or white.

“It is a bit odd, isn’t it?” They mused, “Everyone knew that

Optokinesis was of age to be a legal hero, but I hadn’t realized that they

were quite so old.”

“Isn’t Melody getting up there?” Brunel Irekes asked. Taco

could feel the hair on the back of their neck rise.

“She is perfectly healthy.” Save for the fact that she needed

surgery on her spine, but she was fine besides that.

“Isn’t she in her forties? I know there’s been a lot of pressure

recently to retire.” Brunel Irekes continued, regardless of Taco’s clear

desire to avoid the topic. Taco took a deep breath in through their nose

and released it through their mouth.

“We don’t have another hero to replace her, Brunel Irekes. Sol

Undra could operate with no heroes for two and a half decades, but Der

Verde would not be following suit. That kind of power had led to a

small tyranny.

“I guess you don’t.”

“You aren’t going to replace her, Brunel Irekes.” Even if Taco

ended up taking an apprentice under them, it was not going to be the

heir to the Irekes family.

“Oh Core no, I wouldn’t dream of it!” Brunel Irekes

exclaimed, “I’m already looking forward to when she recovers so I

don’t have to do this anymore.” Well, that was good, though Taco

didn’t like that he’d already grown tired for their entire career.

“Good.” Then, because very few things seemed to go Taco’s

way, their emergency bracelet began beeping.

“Uh… that means there’s a fight, right?” Brunel Irekes asked

nervously, his own hidden bracelet beeping in tandem.

“It does.” Taco glanced at him, “It looks like you are going to

get some combat experience a bit earlier than expected.” Taco quickly

transformed and grabbed Faux-Melody’s arm, rushing outside before

teleporting towards the location.

The villains were attacking the Central Water Reserve, just as

they had threatened to do at the end of the week. Leave it to the villains

to break their own promises of violence.

“Taco!” Dischord called cheerfully, laughing from her place

on the balcony, “And… Melody? Huh. I didn’t expect you to be on the

field so soon.”

“Expect the unexpected.” There it was- Melody’s usual witty

banter. It sounded a bit weird coming from Faux-Melody, but it would

work. Taco teleported up to Dischord and punched her square across

the face.

“They’re here!” Dischord shouted as soon as she could. Taco

swore under their breath.

“I’ll handle the people inside!” Faux-Melody shouted, though

Taco knew that he couldn’t handle both Cacophony and Subcortical.

Taco glanced at Dischord.

“Miraculous recovery, no?” She taunted, as if she’d already

picked up on something. Taco frowned and quickly pinned Dischord to

the floor, cuffing her to the balcony.

“Stay.” Taco told her, as if she was really going to listen. Taco

headed inside the Central Water Reserve, praying to Core that Faux-

Melody was fine.

Cacophony was doing her very best to bust the water tank

while Subcortical distracted Faux-Melody. Unlike Sol Undra’s,

however, the Der Verde Central Water Reserve tank was reinforced.

Hoping that Faux-Melody could handle Subcortical for the time being,

teleported towards the other villain.

“F-” They quickly knocked Cacophony to the ground, holding

a hand over her mouth to ensure she could not use her power. Taco felt

a sharp pain in their hand, but held firm, taking out a long piece of

fabric from their utility belt.

All of the villains of Der Verde had sound-based magic. All of

them. Keeping at least one gag on themself at all times had been one of

the most important lessons Melody had taught Taco. They worked

quickly to stuff the fabric in Cacophony’s unwilling mouth and tie it

around her head.

“Aha!” Taco heard a voice behind them- Subcortical’s.

Evidently he had handled Faux-Melody. Taco quickly cuffed

Cacophony to a rail and turned to face Subcortical.

He was looking quite smug, actually, considering that he

rarely got Melody to fall asleep. Taco would have to take it into their

own hands to correct his faint smirk. They punched him in the stomach,

making Subcortical fold over himself. He had always been the

physically weakest of the group.

“You two! Tactical retreat!” It had taken Dischord an almost

abnormally long amount of time to free herself from the cuffs, yet there

she had appeared.

“Working on it!” Subcortical groaned. Taco struggled to hold

him down while Dischord made her way to Cacophony. Unfortunately,

Faux-Melody would not wake up for at least five minutes more,

meaning that he could not stop Dischord. Cacophony screamed.

Now, Taco had tried earplugs. They had tried noise-canceling

earplugs, even. It seemed that no matter what they tried, they could

never quite be immune to the ear-splitting power that Cacophony held

in her arsenal. Their hands instinctively went up to their ears, which

had a tendency to bleed if ignored.

When Taco had been particularly young, they had dreamed of

becoming a musician-hero like Maestro, Melody’s old mentor. They’d

learned the piano, even though they never got good. Cacophony’s

constant screeching had rendered that dream void, as it had made

Melody tone deaf and Taco… well, just plain hard of hearing.

The villains were out of the building before Taco could force

themself to remove their hands from their ears. They made their way

over to Faux-Melody’s prone form, knowing perfectly well that even

asleep Cacophony’s power was terrifying. Sure enough, the puzzle

mask was not enough to hide Faux-Melody’s bleeding ears. Taco

winced. “Hey, you okay?” They asked. Faux-Melody groaned softly

and rolled over. Good, they were at least alive and reactive. Taco

sighed. “So Taco, how does it feel to know your teammate got bested

so quickly” There they were- the media. Taco turned to face the woman

who had asked the question.

“Well, Melody is still recovering from the fight last Friday. I

am honestly glad that she was able to fight by my side today.” If Brunel

Irekes had not taken time in the warehouse to perfect Faux-Melody’s

costume, Taco would have had to fight alone. While they did fight

alone for the most part, the loss of such an important distraction could

have resulted in the villains actually accomplishing their goal.

“What kind of injuries did she sustain last Friday?” The

reporter asked, pushing the microphone a bit closer to Taco’s face.

“Merely a twisted ankle.” Taco’s character was known for

being factual and to-the-point. If they did not give an exact answer,

they would be considered suspicious. Besides, technically Melody had

sustained a twisted ankle.

Part 9

“Good evening, Brunel Irekes.” Taco had agreed to meet him

at the warehouse again the next night, as neither seemed to have a set

sleep schedule.

“Evening.” Ideally the villains would not see fit to attack once

more, “I wanted to talk a bit more about the commitments outside of

fighting.”

“That makes sense.” Everything had been written down in the

contract, but sometimes it was easier to discuss things.

“Er- paperwork. You said Melody would do all of that, but can

she really complete all of the fields without having been there?” That

was a very legitimate question, though their fights were fortunately or

unfortunately broadcasted. Melody, along with everyone else, could see

every fight from at least three different angles.

“Yes, she can.” Taco informed him.

“Alright,” Brunel Irekes nodded diligently, “Press

conferences? We’ve got one tomorrow and John gave me a list of their

questions and my responses, but I’d like to know more about what

happens before and after.” John? Who was John?

“John?”

“John Kraas.”

“Oh.” That made sense. Taco had not been aware that Mr.

Krass’ first name was John, “We generally meet a block away and

transform before heading to the location. There, we sit before the panel

and answer questions. Then I’ll give my speech and you wait in the

back room, and when I’m done you give your speech. Afterwards, I

will escort you out and back to where we transformed.” That was not

the general schedule with Melody- they generally transformed at the

venue and left as soon as they were done- but Brunel Irekes would need

a bit of hand-holding for the first public events.

“Sounds straightforward enough.” Press conferences rarely

were, but it was good that Brunel Irekes was going in with such a

positive mindset, “And- uh- the charity balls?”

“Those are only once a month, and you just need to mingle.”

Taco explained. Brunel Irekes was a rich heir, so they were sure he

knew what mingling was.

“Mingle?” Or not. Brunek Irekes was also the man who had

eaten an entire pineapple in front of them.

“Be polite and talk to a person or two. I will be with you, but

you will be expected to do most of the talking. Keep it focused on

either the weather or a villain attack, but never the economy or

politics.” Taco had learned the hard way that talking about politics at a

charity ball was a bad idea.

“Do I need to help with any of the planning?” He asked.

Melody generally managed the planning, or at least her assistant did.

She would be able to plan on bedrest, though, so Brunel Irekes’ help

wasn’t necessary.

“No, but you can add your input if you would like. Mr. Krass

should be giving you the plans for this month’s charity ball next

Wednesday.” Taco had decided to give Brunel Irekes exactly one week

to prepare for each charity ball.

“What if there’s something that I’m uncomfortable with?”

“You… do it anyway?” Was Brunel Irekes asking some kind

of trick question or did he legitimately not know what it meant to be a

hero? “You are a hero now, at least until Melody is healed and ready

for the field. That means doing things you would normally be

uncomfortable with.”

“Why, though? We already save the city, why do they want us

to go out and mingle with rich people, too? Shouldn't there be different

people to do that?”

“Maybe,” Taco admitted with a sigh, “but that is the way

things are. We need to convince those attending the charity ball that

they need to donate money to Der Verde’s various funds.” Der Verde’s

number one source of income was its crops, which were constantly

being sold at lower prices than they took to produce.

“That really shouldn’t be the case.” Yet it was, and there was

nothing that the two of them could do about it.

“You sound like Optokinesis.” Optokinesis had been the only

hero with the pull to convince the public to decrease the responsibilities

of heroism, and yet they had gone and retired after just two years.

“Hey!” Do not compare me to that rat.” Perhaps it was a bad

sign that Brunel Irekes agreed with Taco’s distaste for Optokinesis, but

it was nice to have someone who agreed with them.

“I really thought they were going to be the one to make those

changes. It takes someone with power to change our system, but

everyone with power got it through the system.

“Hm…” Brunel Irekes hummed in a tone Taco did not

particularly appreciate, “Alright, then. The contract mentioned

something about investigating the identities of the villains?”

“Yes. The Der Verde Police Department has put together a

team of two investigators who are currently looking into the identities

of the villains, and it is our duty to assist them.” Taco would not

mention that it had been their call to put official investigators on the

case rather than just heroes, considering where the conversation had

been earlier.

“Assist them how, though? Do we have any leads?”

“No. do you know Professor Cantana?” Brunel Irekes shook

his head, “She’s one of the criminal justice professors and Melody’s

older sister. She manages the whole operation, so she is who you would

like to talk to.” As much as Taco hated to admit it, they were not

actually very active in the investigation. That had been part of the

reason why they’d been so insistent that the hero tower hired

professional investigators.

“Cool. She’s on the list of people who know about Melody’s

injury, isn’t she?” Brunel Irekes was supposed to have that entire list

memorized, but Taco would let it slide.

“Yes.”

“Sweet.” Well, it was nice to know that he was interested in

one of the facets of heroics that had the most lasting impact. If they

could successfully track down the identities of the villains, they would

be that much closer to finding the Verojas Trio.

“Have you practiced summoning the lyre at all?”

Part 10

“Well, it’s about time you came to visit me.” Melody scoffed

as Taco softly closed the door to her room.

“You only woke up from your surgery two hours ago.” Taco

had been in class when they had received the message, and as much as

they cared about Melody they needed to understand their next

assignment.

“Yeah, yeah. Spare me excuses.” It… wasn’t an excuse,

though?

“I am glad to see that your surgery went well.” The fact that

the surgery had to be delayed by almost a week had made Taco

incredibly stressed. They were glad to see that Melody had come out

okay on the other side.

“I am, too!” Melody laughed, “Now, I heard that you found a

replacement for me?”

“Not a replacement, just a fill-in,” Taco corrected her gently,

“It is remarkable that he has been able to copy your costume so

quickly.”

“He?” Ah, so no one had told Melody who the fill-in was.

“Brunel Irekes, unfortunately. I’ll send you the contract for

your review.”

“Another contract?” Melody groaned, “I just got out of surgery

man, don’t tell me I still have to do all of his paperwork.” Well, yes, but

that was the nature of their work.

“You do.”

“Agh!” Evidently the situation frustrated Melody, “I have to

do all the boring parts of heroism while he gets to do all the fun stuff.

Brunel Irekes, too? Isn’t he- like- rich”

“Apparently he has a high potential for magic. After seeing

what he is capable of, I do not doubt it.” Brunel Irekes had managed to

get as good at magic as Melody was when she had become a full hero.

It was remarkable.

“Huh. He better not be better than me.

“No.” Taco said, shaking their head. Not yet, anyways. It did

not really matter whether or not Brunel Irekes was better at magic than

Melody because he had expressed his disinterest in becoming a long

term hero.

“That’s good. How’s planning for the charity ball going?” Of

course that would be one of Melody’s first concerns.

“Very well, though we look forward to your help. Mr. Kraas

cannot do everything , you know.” In addition, they would be lacking

Melody’s natural charm in improvised conversation for the entirety of

the month’s charity ball. Her persuasion had contributed to their past

earnings.

“I know. I think he’s coming in later today to go over it with

me.” Mr. Kraas was scheduled to come in and meet with her?

“That is good. There is not a lot that you have missed, save for

an attack this Monday on the Central Water Reserve.” It said something

that the week’s happenings were considered ‘not much’.

“An attack? Is there still plenty of water?”

“Yes, there is.” Taco informed Melody, “Brunek Irekes and I

managed to get the villains to retreat as per usual, and none of the

reporters seemed to spot the difference.” At the very least, no papers or

tabloids which had requested release included anything about Faux-

Melody’s odd behavior.

“That’s great! I’ll take it he’s a fan, then?”

“...Yes.” Taco felt bad lying to Melody, but they knew

perfectly well that Brunel Irekes was not the biggest fan of heroism in

general.

“Well I’ll just have to meet him, won’t I?” Actually, Taco was

not sure if that was a good idea. Melody was an awfully chaotic person

on her own, without a pineapple-eating millionaire to cheer her on.

“I suppose so.” That did not change the fact that eventually

Brunel Irekes and Taco’s mentor would have to meet with one another

to talk about heroics.

“I should get in contact to find out when he’s free, then. Do you

have his number?”

“I… don’t actually.” How had Taco managed to work with him

for nearly a week without getting his contact information?

“That’s a shame. I guess I’ll have Mr. Kraas get me in contact,

though.” Oh, that was disappointment in Melody’s voice. Taco didn’t

like it when Melody was disappointed with them.

“Yes. He had been helping Brunel Irekes, especially with the

press conference.” The press conference which was scheduled for that

afternoon, and which Taco was planning to head to as soon as they

were done visiting Melody.

“Oh, a press conference,” Melody hummed, “This afternoon,

then?” Taco nodded, “I trust they’ve put together a decent speech.”

“It is a good speech, but I worry that Brunel Irekes will not be

able to properly imitate your tonality.” Brunel Irekes was a vastly

different person from Melody Cantana, and it was bound to show on

stage.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to get in contact with him

before then.” Melody decided, “Could you send him over or

something?” Taco nodded.

Surely it couldn’t be that hard to find Brunel Irekes.

Part 11

It was, in fact, that hard to find Brunel Irekes. In the end he’d

been sitting in Snail Verde, eating a pineapple while reading a rather

thick textbook.

“Good morning.” It was only eleven thirty, and thus it was

technically morning. Still, perhaps Taco ought to have simply said

‘hello’ instead.

“Hello to you too, Taco. How may I help you?” It was then that

Taco realized, rather suddenly, that they were not necessarily supposed

to be seen in public with Brunel Irekes. Ah well, they had come too far.

“I need you to meet with our mutual friend at the hospital.”

“At the-? I can come now, if you’d like.”

“No, thank you.” Taco said rather firmly, as they were

intending to head over there as well and did not want to be seen with

Brunel Irekes, “Simply be there when you are ready.” As in- preferably

before the press conference. They hoped that Brunel Irekes would

understand their message.

“Okay… sure.” He took another bite out of the pineapple and

Taco nearly flinched at the sight. They turned and left Snail Verde,

headed right back for the hospital.

Taco only had to wait in the lobby of the hospital for about five

minutes before Brunel Irekes came through the door.

“You’re here to meet Melody.” Taco informed him as soon as

he approached.

“I assumed as much. Is she awake, then?” His face seemed

hopeful.

“Yes.” It was understandable that he would be hopeful for

Melody’s quick recovery, as the less time she spent on bed rest the

sooner he could return to being an ordinary citizen.

“Wonderful!” He exclaimed. Taco led Brunel to the elevator,

scanning their fingerprint to take them to the topmost floor.

“Good afternoon. I assume you are here to see Ms. Cantana?”

A nurse asked, with a large smile on his face. He had been in the

hallway, evidently waiting to use the elevator next.

“Yes.” They moved out of the elevator, and the nurse quickly

went inside. Taco led Brunel Irekes further down the hallway, to

Melody’s room. It was a bit odd that they had so many rooms for what

was supposedly the heroes’ private hospital floor, but Taco had

generally disregarded the fact for most of their life.

“Taco! Back so soon?” Melody was still waiting on her bed,

evidently bored as ever.

“They bring a guest!” Brunel Irekes chirped from behind Taco,

stepping into the room, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Melody laughed, “I’d shake

your hand, but I’m afraid I’m still a little weak for that.” Brunel Irekes

chuckled.

“Quite understandable.” Taco quickly glanced at the clock in

the hospital room, which unfortunately revealed that the press

conference was in four hours.

“I’ll leave you two to meet privately if that is alright,” They

said, “I’ve got to prepare for the press conference fairly early.” They

had a class right before the press conference as well, so their usual

practice of showing up an hour early to prepare would not be feasible.

“Alright.” See you there, then.” Brunel Irekes seemed okay

with the arrangement, though Melody frowned.

“Really? So early?”

“I have a class right before, and would like to prepare prior to

that.” They explained. Melody sighed.

“Okay, if you must. You’re going to call me before you go to

sleep tonight, though.” Call her? Was this another period of time in

which Melody suddenly got inexplicably clingy?

“Of course. Goodbye.”

Part 12

“Good afternoon, Melody. Wonderful job on the decorations as

always.” As per usual, Vivian Price and her wife were the first people

to arrive at the charity ball.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Price and Mrs. Price. How have you

been?” Faux-Melody smiled as he shook Vivian Price’s hand.

“Fairly well, thank you. How have you been? I heard you

twisted your ankle last Friday.” That was generally Taco’s cue to leave

and talk with Olivia Price, though they wanted to ensure Faux-Melody

was going to stay in character.

“I did. However, I am much better now.” Faux-Melody said as

Olivia gingerly took a step to the side.

“Ah, yes, go on ahead Liv.” Vivian Price gently patted Olivia’s

hand, which was her cue to leave. Taco could only follow.

“How are you, T?” She asked once they had made their way to

a corner of the room, “How is Melody really?”

“She’s…” As much as Taco wanted to talk about Melody’s

condition, Olivia PRice was not on the list of those authorized to know,

“I don’t know. There’s nothing physically wrong with her, but she’s

been acting a little off since last Friday.”

“Are you going to be able to pull the numbers this charity

ball?”

“I certainly hope so, but nothing is ever guaranteed.” Taco

admitted.

“Alright, I’ll step up the game then.” Olivia said with a frown,

“Don’t hesitate to talk to me if anything goes bad, okay?” It was nice to

know that Olivia would have their back, even if Faux-Melody would

not.

“Thank you.”

“Have you gotten to use the spreadsheet template I sent you?”

Olivia asked, changing the topic.

“I have, actually,” Taco said with a smile, “It was very helpful

for tracking the prices of each color of decoration. The convention in

March? We’ve already decreased the projected cost of decorations by

two percent.” The difference seemed negligible, but Taco knew

perfectly well from their anti-drug convention last year that decorations

for a convention cost a great deal more than decorations for a charity

ball.

“Two percent? I’m proud- even I haven’t gotten that kind of

turnaround.” Taco felt their face light up at Olivia’s praise. Their

personal assistant had been thoroughly unimpressed with the difference.

“Via, the doors are open soon.” Vivian said, approaching the

corner.

“See you around, T.” Olivia said, smiling at Taco as she

returned to Vivian’s side and Taco returned to Faux-Melody’s.

“Well, I think that went well.” Faux-Melody assured them.

“Wonderful. Are you ready to greet the other guests?” Vivian

Price was one of theri greatest threats due simply to her knowledge of

Melody’s usual behavior, but she was only one person on their two-

hundred person guest list.

“Not at all.” Faux-Melody said. Taco frowned. Whether or not

Faux-Melody was ready for the guests, he had to deal with them

anyway.

“Good afternoon, you two.”

The two politely shook hands with everyone who came through

the door. There were many familiar faces, since much of the guest list

consisted of Der Verde residents. Most were from Der Verde’s upper

class, as many came to every month’s charity ball to show support for

the city and get a tax write-off. Only a few of their regulars were from

out of the city- important investors who had their hands in the grocery

business and wanted to ensure their breadbasket stayed in business.

Taco was just about to step away from the door when they saw a couple

that they only recognized from video meetings.

“Hello. You must be Melody.”What were Mr. and Mrs. Irekes

doing at a Der Verden charity ball? Taco shot a look at Faux-Melody,

feeling that he was in some way connected to the occurrence, “And you

must be Taco.”

“Hello. We are pleased that you could join us.” Taco said

politely. They had sent an invitation to the Irekes family, of course, just

as they did every charity ball. They had never received an RSVP back,

though.

“We're pleased to be in attendance as well.” Mrs. Irekes

answered easily, “We’ve meant to come to one of these balls for some

time now, but we never quite cleared out our schedules early enough.”

Ah, so three months wasn’t enough for them? Taco made a mental note

to move up their invitations to six months before each ball.

“Quite understandable, I assure you,” Faux-Melody said

pleasantly, “Please enjoy yourself.”

“I’m quite sure we will.” Mrs. Irekes gracefully dipped her

head and headed into the charity ball.

“Oh, Taco! I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” A rough hand

grasped Taco’s shoulder.

“Ms. Pivli?” Ms. Pivli was one of the lead directors of their

time. She had not made many movies that Taco personally enjoyed, but

she had directed seventeen hero films.

“About your anti-dueling competition in March. I was

wondering if I could set up a small film festival as part of your

convention? Everyone would stick to the theme, of course.” Free

advertisement? Well, no, nothing was ever free and Taco would need to

take into account the decorations and rentals required for a film festival.

Nevertheless, it was a grand opportunity.

“Could you email me the details? I would like to schedule an

appointment to discuss this, if you don’t mind.” It was not odd to be

approached about various deals at charity balls, though never regarding

something as lucrative as an anti-dueling film festival.

“Of course. I’ll get my assistant to put together our schedules

and draft and email, I just wanted to ask you in person first.:

“This is not an automatic decision,” Taco reminded her, “but

that does sound like a wonderful idea. Please communicate with me as

soon as possible.”

“Will do, Taco.” Mrs. Pivli said with a smile, “Oh, Melody! I

wanted to congratulate you on managing to recover from that nasty fall

last Friday so quickly.” Already a small crowd was surrounding Faux-

Melody and pushing Taco away. They had no choice but to accept it.

“Taco, how have things been, considering people are talking

about your and Brunel Irekes’ relationship?” People were still talking

about that? Taco had thought it died down, for the most part.

“While it is frustrating that few believe that Brunel Irekes and I

have no relationship, I have been doing well.” They informed the

woman, whose name was not coming to them right then.

“Then why have the Irekes come to this month’s charity ball?”

She asked.

“If I am honest, I do not quite know myself,” Unlike the heroes,

rich people did not have any laws protecting them from criticism,

“They did not RSVP.”

“Oh, really? You’d think of all people they would.”

“Well, I am quite grateful for their attendance.” Hopefully,

hopefully the Irekes were there not for Faux-Melody but to discuss a

partnership with Der Verde.

“And what-”

“Taco, Taco, any chance I could get a report on what this

month’s charity ball funds will go to?” Another reporter cut in, rather

rudely.

“Of course. Today we are raising money for another round of

reinforcements on the city’s less central buildings. While we have

reinforced walls on government buildings, today’s earnings will go

towards ensuring civilians are safe in their homes and workplaces.” It

was a scripted response, naturally, but that did not make it any less true.

“How many homes do you think we can expect to be reinforced

from the funds?”

“That deeply depends on how much we raise this year. Simply

through VIP ticket sales, we will be able to reinforce two apartment

complexes, the locations of which we are still picking out.” Taco had

already decided that the complex where Melody was injured would be

reinforced as it was reconstructed.

“Wonderful! We’ll all be looking forward to an update, then.

Who do we have in attendance at today’s event.” Well, considering that

the event was public and free, Taco had no idea.

“Well, quite a lot of people,” Which was fairly obvious from

the packed ballroom, “We received approximately two hundred RSVPs

from the charity ball’s usual visitors, and simply at the door we

received quite a few new faces.” Namely, Mr. and Mrs. Irekes.

“Any new faces you recognize?”

“Well, yes. Eden and Petr Irekes both came to our ball tonight.”

Taco admitted. The reporter smiled, grinning as though Taco had just

fallen into a trap. Which, of course, they were beginning to suspect they

had.

“And what-”

“-Taco, man, you didn’t tell me these things had a chocolate

fountain.” What was Emilio doing at the charity ball? Why had he seen

fit to interrupt the reporter?

“Ah, cut!” The reporter called, wandering off to look for

another person to bother and leaving Taco alone with their least favorite

roommate.

“I was not aware that you were attending.” Taco noted, dusting

off their vest and attempting to regain their composure from the shock.

“Well, I did! Decided to surprise you, y’know? It seemed

obvious to come now that we’re roommates. I mean- it’s practically

required that we party out together.” Party out? Taco wasn’t sure that

the charity ball was designed to ‘party out’.

“Ah. Well, I am quite surprised.”

“That’s good!” Was it? “The chocolate fountain though, man. If

you’d advertised that on your city-wide invitations I would’ve come

here a lot sooner.” Was it actually a selling point, then? Taco had been

advised not to advertise the food.

“Well, you are here now.”

“That I am. Hey- did you see the Irekes folks here? I never

thought I’d party with the Irekes!” Nor had Taco, yet there they both

were, “Anyways , do you know where the ‘punch’ is?” Emilio

emphasized the word ‘punch’ with large air quotation marks.

“We don’t have punch,” Taco gently informed him, “But we

have a lovely selection of lemonade, coffee, tea, and water over on that

table.”

“Oh no, man, not that stuff!” Emilio laughed, “I mean where’s

the alcohol?” The alcohol?

“This- this is a public event.” Taco spluttered.

“Yeah?”

“Children could walk in here?” They could not have alcohol at

an event that children would attend, it would be incredibly

irresponsible. Not many children actually attended the monthly charity

balls, but the point still stood.

“Oh. Well what are we supposed to do, then?” Had Emilio

never attended a party that did not include drinking.

“Light dancing? Conversation? You could listen to the live

music?” They did not quite have the budget for a live orchestra or

quartered, but they had found that the university jazz band was quite

willing to work for food.

“But that’s boring? Alcohol’s where the real fun is. Any cool

substances?” Cool… substances? Was Emilio referring to drugs?

“Emilio, I had an anti-drug convention just two years ago.

“Yeah, alright,” Emilio sighed, “I figured you wouldn’t,” He

paused for a moment, and Taco nearly thought he was done speaking.

They were wrong, of course, “Hey, what do you think the chances are

that Optokinesis is here right now?”

“Next to none?” Optokinesis’ civilian persona was more

mysterious than their hero one, on account of no-one knowing who they

were.

“Do you know that for sure? What’re the chances I could shake

hands with them here and never even know it?”

“None, if you do not shake hands with anyone.”

“Oh my Core.” Emilio’s face lit up in a way that made Taco’s

stomach squirm.

“That’s a great idea! I’ll just have to shake hands with

everyone.”

“That’s not what I-”

“Hello there, fine person. My name’s Emilio.” He stared with

the closest available person, who seemed quite miffed to be interrupted

in the middle of their own conversation. Taco sighed.

“Hello again, Taco,” Taco turned to face Eden Irekes, who they

had not noticed approaching, “I have been meaning to talk to you about

some things. Namely, my son.”

“Brunel Irekes?” What was with people and thinking that they

and Brunel Irekes had some sort of affair?

“Yes. I hear that you two are considering some sort of

partnership? I must admit, I have not received all the information.”

Eden Irekes said. Suddenly, Taco needed a very convincing excuse for

why Brunel Irekes had met up with them.

“Ah. He’s going to be making a speech at the anti-dueling

convention in March,” Taco lied, “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you

himself.”

“The anti-dueling convention?” Eden Irekes asked, surprised,

“Didn’t you meet with him before he was challenged to a duel.”

“Well, yes,” Taco admitted, recalculating in their mind, “We

hadn’t prepared for that, but it will be nice to have someone with

experience in duels give a speech against them.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Eden Irekes admitted, “What

kind of compensation has been discussed?” Compensation? Did Eden

Irekes seriously believe that the city of Der Verde was going to be able

to afford giving money to the Irekes Foundation.

“Well, we will be paying the image fee, of course.” That. Taco

had forgotten that Brunel Irekes was technically a trademarked name,

“but other compensation has not been discussed. What did you have in

mind?”

“Well,” Eden Irekes began with a smirk, “I’ve always wanted

to get into the grocery business,” The Irekes Foundation wanted to get

into the grocery business, “I know you cannot lower the prices of the

actual goods, but I was hoping you’d be willing to decrease the export

fees for the Irekes Foundation.”

“For a speech?” No offense to Eden Irekes, but Taco thought

that was a little excessive.

“Of course, my foundation would be more than willing to

donate enough money to fully reinforce every since building in the

city.” Every single building?

“Every single building?” What were they even holding the

charity ball for, then?

“Every single building that hasn’t previously been reinforced,”

Eden Irekes confirmed, “My father is a very prestigious architect, and

his construction partnerships could get it done very easily.”

“Why?” Even if the Irekes Foundation didn’t have to go

through the trouble of outsourcing, material and labor costs were sure

to exceed the projected benefits of a tax reduction.

“Let’s just say that I believe our deal will have long-lasting

benefits for everyone.” Eden Irekes informed them. Taco nodded. If the

Irekes Foundation found their way into the grocery industry, they

would have companies in nearly every essential service except water.

Water was generally the property of the city governments, though the

Irekes Foundation was notorious for rifling through government

business.

“Very well. Would you be able to meet later to discuss the

creation of a contract?”

“Why of course. I’ll have one of my assistants get in contact

with yours.” eden Irekes was, of course, rich enough to have more than

one assistant. How did they all coordinate the plan and schedule? Well,

Taco didn’t know, but they had always hoped to one day find out.

“Wonderful. I look forward to our partnership.”

“As do I.”

Part 13

“Oh hey, Taco. Did you complete the assignment?” A small

crowd had gathered outside their introductory political science class, as

everyone waited for the professor to arrive.

“I did.” It was a fairly ridiculous question. Taco always

completed their assignments, yet Marco always asked.

“Cool! Loriel and I were just talking about where we plan to go

after college. I guess you don’t have that problem, though.”

“No.” Taco was going to be a hero until the day they were

forced to retire, and then they were going to assist future heroes until

the day they died.

“Core, I can’t imagine what that’s like,” Loriel admitted, “I

mean- I’d love to work in the hero office but I’ve still got to get hired,

you know?”

“I’ve still got another five years of schooling after this to

become a lawyer and that’s if I can pass the entrance exam.” Another

student complained.

“Man- I don’t even know what I want to do,” Marco sighed, “I

just thought this degree was interesting.”

“And we have another future political science professor!”

Loriel laughed, “Don’t you know you’re supposed to know what you

want to do with a degree before you declare it?”

“I’ll have you know that both of my parents only figured out

what they wanted to do with their degree at a career festival in their

junior year.” Marco countered.

“And what do your parents do?”

“My father works in the hero tower,” He began. Loriel raised a

careful eyebrow, “...and my dad’s an economics teacher.”

“Lo and behold, I am correct again,” She turned to Kay, “What

about you, Kay? I’ve seen you wandering around the business floor, are

you dual-majoring?”

“No. I’m just going to be a commercial lawyer, and I want to

meet potential clients.” Kay answered easily.

“Is everyone else in this class actually going to get a degree in

political science? I’m just here for my gen ed reqs.”

“Nah, man, me too. It’s crazy hearing everyone talk about what

they’re gonna do while I’m sittin’ over here undeclared.”

“Wh- Undeclared?” Loriel asked, turning to the two students

Taco didn’t recognize, “Why are you even in college, then?”

“Believe it or not, even entry-level jobs are asking for some

college degree or another,” They informed her, “I figured a Bachelor’s

would be more competitive than an Associates.”

“Hey, aren’t commercial lawyers and heroes practically the

same thing?” Marco asked Kay, “You and Taco should hang out

sometime.” Kay laughed.

“I am not a commercial lawyer.” Taco said sternly, “I don’t

have to dispute commercial rights, for one thing. That’s the job of the

employees of the hero tower.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you’ve still gotta know all that stuff in order

to make and sell merchandise, right?”

“No. All my merchandise is designed by professionals, and

then sold by others.” It was a common misconception, but it still got on

Taco’s nerves.

“Well then why are you taking marketing?” Kay asked.

“I need to advertise my products. Even if other people design,

produce, and sell the merchandise I have to be the face of our hero

office.” Taco explained. Even though Melody was more so the ‘face’ of

the hero office, Taco had a lot of work to do.

“Ah, so you’re the advertisements.” Kay concluded.

“Political science is so that you can make laws that don’t piss

people off, right?” Loriel asked.

“Well, yes, and to ensure those laws are optimal for creating a

better Der Verde.” That was their main goal, actually. Taco wanted to

make the very best decisions they could, and that meant being well-

informed.

“Don’t you already learn all of that on the job?” Marco asked.

“No. I learn quite a few things, but not everyone. That’s why

I’m here. I’d like to get an official degree and be taught by

professionals.” Taco cared deeply for Melody, but while she was

technically a professional hero she was far from professional in the

traditional sense.

“Understandable.” Loriel at last seemed pleased by Taco’s

answer.

“Alright, guys. You can come into class.” Their professor

opened the door, letting the students inside, “Are you all prepared to

give your presentations today?” Taco straightened their notes and

double-checked their slideshow as they walked in.

“Yes.” The rest of the class responded with overlapping

murmurs of agreement.

“Wonderful! Mx. Quartez, would you like to go first?” The

professor turned to Sawyer, who grinned and stood up.

“Of course!” They displayed their first slide in front of the

class, “Today I’d like to tell you all why you should purchase a Quartez

Firecracker.” Sawyer continued their presentation as the rest of the

class took notes. Taco mentally noted that while Sawyer was

particularly skilled at connecting to the consumers emotionally, they

seemed to lack any actual facts about their product. That wasn’t

necessarily a bad thing, but it could certainly be a turn off for some

people. Namely: Taco themself.

“Taco, would you like to go next?”’ The professor asked. Taco

took a deep breath, hoping that it was unnoticable.

“Yes.” They stood and approached the front of the class, “Good

evening, everyone. Now- has anyone here ever heard of Taco's Fine

Vegetable Slider?” They watched as a few people shook their heads,

“No, I didn’t think so. A shame. You see, Taco’s Fine Vegetable Slicer

is the vegetable slicer that you’ve always needed in your life, and if you

think that you don’t need a vegetable slicer, you’re dead wrong. Taco’s

Fine Vegetable Slicer will make your chopped vegetable dreams come

true. No more need to worry if you’ll accidentally slice your finger, no

more need to worry about the proportions. Taco’s Fine Vegetable Slider

will make meals at home so much easier.” The class seemed to be

responding well, so Taco deemed it safe to enter the informational

section.

“Taco’s Fine Vegetable Slicer can be adjusted to cut vegetables

into cubes, into slices, into rectangles! You can adjust the size of each

of these between a quarter of an inch and two inches, with the amazing

capability of cutting through even the toughest squash. Taco’s Fine

Vegetable Slider saves an average of five minutes per meal, simply

because of all that precious time wasted on cutting your vegetables!”

The professor hummed and made a note on their paper.

“So if you find yourself wasting time cooking homemade meals

by improperly cutting vegetables, you should go out and purchase

yourself Taco’s Fine Vegetable Slicer. Did you know that, on average,

five percent of every vegetable is wasted by improper slicing? Taco’s

Fine Vegetable Slicer lowers that to just one percent. Say goodbye to

waste and hello to savings with Taco’s Fine Vegetable Slicer.”

“Thank you, Taco, I think that will be all.” The professor

informed them, taking the slideshow down. Taco glanced over at the

professor, though they couldn’t make out his eyes through the glazed

glasses he wore.

“Thank you.” Taco might have been wrong, but they thought

they detected the slightest bit of disappointment in their professor’s

voice. Had their presentation been that bad? Would they have to retest?

They asked Sawyer about it after class.

“Will you have to retest?” Sawyer repeated in disbelief, “No,

you won’t have to retest! Your final presentation was great! It just… I

dunno, I guess it wasn’t very Taco.” Not very Taco?

“What could be more me than myself?” Taco asked.

“No, I mean- like- your brand, you know?” Oh. Sawyer did

have a point, “You don’t really talk like that in your advertisements, or

even in your speeches, so it startled some people.”

“Ah.” Taco had not been aware that their personal brand would

affect their marketing class brand, but perhaps they ought to have

guessed.

“Yeah. I wasn’t quite so startled since, y’know, we’re

roommates and I’ve heard you practicing that speech,” Sawyer had

what? “It was well-executed, though, so I don’t think you have to

worry.”

“Thank you.” Taco was going to worry anyway, though. Their

emergency contact began beeping.

“Oh, you've gotta go.” Sawyer noted, nodding toward the

flashing light. Taco hummed and quickly transformed, teleporting in

the direction of the signal.

Part 14

Faux-Melody was already there when they arrived at the scene,

just like Melody would have been. Cacophony appeared to be working

alone, wreaking havoc on one of the few buildings that hadn’t been

reinforced quite yet. Approximately two thousand people lived in that

building alone, as Taco knew from just a glance at its massive height.

“Get the civilians.” Faux-Melody ordered. Taco nodded and

made their way to the building, quickly checking each apartment and

leading each civilian to safety.

Cacophony was attacking at a better- or worse, they supposed-

time of the day than before. More civilians had just gotten back from

their jobs and were preparing for bed or making dinner. They simply

were not prepared for the building to start collapsing around them- and

for their ears to start bleeding from Cacophony’s power.

“Line up quickly and quietly! Get people away from the upper

floors first!” Taco directed, leading a panicked crowd through a narrow

hallway, “I will teleport all of the injured out of the building, but I need

every able-bodied citizen to get themselves out. You!” Tacto pointed at

a couple that looked particularly responsible.

“Y-yes?” One of them asked.

“I want you two to go and check all of these apartments one

last time to ensure that no civilians are still there. Once you are done,

meet me on the fifteenth floor and I will teleport you out.”

“Of course!” Delegating tasks to civilians was one of Taco’s

least favorite things to do, but it was incredibly important to do so when

trying to get that many people out of a building quickly. With the way

Cacophony had been improving her powers, it was likely that they only

had five minutes or so until the whole building came tumbling down

and the civilians left inside were crushed.

“Hey, is anyone here?” They continued moving down the

building, getting as many civilians out as possible. It was quite clear

that the residents of that particular building had not kept up with their

exit drills. Taco would have to renew their campaign regarding civilian

safety later.

“Taco! We’ve checked the building and ordered out everyone

else!” The couple was already waiting for them on floor fifteen. Taco

smiled.

“Wonderful work, thank you.” They teleported the two people

out and returned to the building, giving the entire thing one last sweep.

Buildings really shouldn’t be that tall, ever. Overpopulation had

made their building codes much looser, and Der Verde could not afford

to lose the tax revenue that came from having one of the largest

populations in the world. Having buildings so tall, though, meant that

they were much more precarious and prone to villain attacks. Having

buildings so tall meant that there were a lot more people to save when

just a single building was targeted. Taco was just glad that the

apartment building wasn’t one of those towards the center of the city,

which tended to house upwards of four thousand citizens.

“Melody!” Taco shouted, teleporting to where Faux-Melody

was valiantly fighting Cacophony. Faux-Melody had yet to quite grasp

on Melody’s power, meaning that he didn’t conveniently have mind-

control at his disposal.

“I’m handling it.” As promised, Faux-Melody very quickly

flipped Cacophony over and then stood on her stomach, “Anything to

say?”

“Go to sleep.” Taco jolted at the new voice. Subcortical had

arrived on the scene, and they hadn’t even noticed. He activated his

power, knocking both Faux-Melody and Cacophony out.

“You-” They teleported to the villain.

“You, too.” Taco very suddenly found themself on the ground,

a dull throbbing in their head. Taco blearily caught sight of lights in the

distance before the black spots on the edges of their vision began taking

over and they passed out into a deep sleep.

Part 15

“Oh, I think they’re waking up.”

“I’ll go fetch the family.”

Taco opened their eyes, only to quickly close them again. Had

the world always been so bright? They didn’t think so. That alone was

enough for Taco to attempt opening their eyes once more, though they

had to squint.

“Huh?” Faint dark shapes hovered in front of them, though they

couldn’t make out any details. Were those people or objects? One of

them moved. Probably living, then.

“Welcome to the realm of the living, love.” That was definitely

a voice, and it was even a mildly familiar voice. Taco took a moment to

check on their limbs, realizing that they were lying down. They likely

ought to have recognized that sooner.

“Hey Taco, how’re you doing?” Alright, that voice was

definitely familiar. It wasn’t exactly associated with positive thoughts

though. Taco racked their brain for a name or face to match the voice.

Optokinesis? What would Optokinesis be doing there above Taco?

Hadn’t Optokinesis retired?

“Wh-” They tried sitting gup, only for hands to quickly catch

their shoulders.

“Hey, hey, relax. Calm down.” The second voice urged them.

“Their heart rate’s going up.” The first one noted. Heart rate?

Was Taco in a hospital? Why would they be in a hospital?

“Hey, Taco, I’m gonna need you to calm down for me, okay.”

Taco attempted to shrug the hands off of their shoulders, slightly off-

put by the touch. They blinked their eyes a couple of times, trying to

get a better look at the two figures. When that didn’t work, Taco

attempted to bring their arms up to rub their eyes only for a strong hand

to pull their right arm down.

“Shit. They’ve displaced the IV.” The first speaker’s voice held

a little more fear, that time. Had Taco caused that?

“Shouldn’t you like- sedate them or something?”

“Not with the IV out of place, that might be dangerous. I’m

going to need to take this one out and replace it.”

“Well-” Taco flopped back down onto their back, tuning out

the voices and letting their eyelids droop. Struggling was difficult,

anyway. If they were really in a hospital then they needed to stay as

calm as possible to make it easier for the workers. It was not

uncommon to get injured in a villain battle, though Taco rarely found

themself so disoriented.

“I think-” The voices were dimming, and Taco couldn’t quite

make out their words through the faint static.

That was fine, though. Taco had been a bit deaf for a while

now. They let their muscles loosen and closed their eyes once more.

Part 16

“Hey, are you actually awake this time?” Taco opened their

eyes. They were in a hospital, and Brunel Irekes was sitting on a chair

beside them.

“I think so?” Had they woken up before.

“That’s good.” Well, it at least meant that they hadn’t gone into

a come, “You got a pretty bad concussion in your last fight.” Brunel

Irekes informed them. Taco blinked, trying to think back to their last

fight.

“Cacophony?”

“Yeah.” How had Cacophony given them a concussion?

Wasn’t ear damage more their style? Memories of Subcortical showing

up when Cacophony had barely been captured flooded their mind. He

had knocked them out? Without using his power, too.

“They got away.” Taco realized with a frown. How had they let

the villains get away again? Cacophony had been so close, and yet she

got away.

“They did.” Apparently, Brunel Irekes hadn’t miraculously

woken up from Subcortical’s power and captured the two on his own,

“How are you feeling?”

“Not great.” Taco brought their hand up to their head, which

was still throbbing “How long was I out?”

“Oh, nothing too bad, just ten minutes or so.” Ten minutes or

so? Why were they in a hospital, then? “The trouble is, then you

thrashed around and passed out again. They ended up taking you to the

hospital because they didn’t want you to get permanent brain damage,

or cause harm to the people around you.

“Cause harm to the people around me?” Taco inquired.

“Hey, I wasn’t exactly awake either,” Brunel Irekes said with a

shrug, “They just called me here because Melody can’t leave her bed

and technically I’m your emergency contact.” He was?

“You are?” They did not remember that in the contract.

“Yeah, it certainly wasn’t in the contract. Something about bad

assistants and fighting crime and all. The doctors pretty much made the

call on their own.” Oh. Wel, while it was nice of the doctors to prevent

Taco’s assistant from being their emergency contact, they weren’t sure

if Brunel Irekes was much better.

“How long have you been…” They trailed off, not entirely sure

how to phrase their question.

“Well, you’ve been in this bed for about twelve hours. I woke

up after fifteen minutes, since Subcortical transformed or whatever, and

I’ve been here since.” Twelve hours? Taco had missed their morning

class.

“Shit.”

“Hey!” Brunel Irekes scolded, “I thought you were family

friendly.”

“I missed a class.” Taco informed him.

“Shit.”

“Melody is by far the more family-friendly of the two of us.”

Taco’s job was to ensure that all the old mathematicians in the audience

knew all the facts about different laws, charities, and battles. They did

not target their speeches to kids, though their name appealed to a

younger audience.

“For your information, I’m not exactly Melody.” Brunel Irekes

said matter-of-factly. Taco suppressed a sigh. Brunel Irekes was not

Melody, not in the ways that counted.

“How is she?” They asked.

“Pissed, mostly,” Why would Melody be mad? “They aren’t

letting her out of bed except for some pretty basic exercises, so she isn’t

allowed to come into your room and see you.”

“Why would she want to see me sleep?” Taco was generally

much better company when they were awake. Brunel Irekes shrugged.

“If I know, man. Something about subliminal messaging.”

Pardon, subliminal what? Taoc made a face, and Brunel Irekes grinned,

“Hey, hey, kidding! She seemed pretty worried, actually especially

after she found out about your violent sleepwalking or whatever.

“Yes, that would worry her.” If Taco attacked people while

they were passed out, it would reflect remarkably poorly on the hero

community.

“Why’d you become a hero, anyways?” Brunel Irekes asked

suddenly.

“You… do realize that I just woke up after getting a

concussion?” It probably was not the best time to answer questions

about their motivations. Taco racked their brain for the scripted

response that they knew existed. They couldn’t find it.

“I do. I figure it’s the best time to ask you, actually. When your

walls are down.” Well. That wasn’t very considerate.

“Clearly you don’t care about my privacy.”

“I’m serious, though,” Brunel Irekes leaned forward in his

chair, “I mean, sure Melody took you off the streets and all, but she

never formally adopted you. You’re an adult now, anyway. What’s the

worst she can do?”

“Can’t just not be a hero.” Taco pointed out.

“But you can! I’ve done some digging and it turns out that as

long as you’re an adult you can just quit the hero business whenever

you want to- without any guardian permission or anything. I was

curious after Optokinesis retired, and the clause is in literally every

hero contract.” Every hero contract? “Well, except min, I suppose, but

mine’s got a time limit.”

“I…” Taco had never been told that, had they? Actually, they

were not sure they had even seen their hero contract since they had first

signed it at the age of four.

“So, if you can leave anytime, why haven’t you? It’s fairly

obvious that you don’t enjoy the work.

“I enjoy the work,” Taco declared, “I like spreadsheets.”

“Right, the spreadsheets,” Brunel Irekes rolled his eyes,

“Everyone’s favorite part of the hero work, if you like them, why don’t

you just work as an assistant or something? A general manager? Why

do you go out and protect the people of Der Verde?”

“They need protection.” There were three rather powerful

villains in Der Verde and only two heroes to stop them.

“But do you need to protect them? Why can’t they just find

somebody else who actually wants to be a hero and give them the job?”

“Do you really think I don’t like my job?” Taco asked. They

liked plenty of things about being a hero, or at least they thought they

did. Things which, when they actually thought about them, sort-of gave

Taco an uncomfortable headache.

“Taco, your favorite part of hero work is spreadsheets.” Brunel

Irekes said bluntly, “Do you even like fighting?”

“...no.” Not really. Not really meaning never. Taco didn’t like

the fearful look in people’s eyes as they were led to safety. They didn’t

like the high number of casualties that Cacophony’s power had caused

in the early days of their heroic career. They didn’t like punching

people, or the sound that it made, and teleporting always left them

queasy.

“So just quit. There’s gotta be plenty of people willing to

become heroes and beat people up for a living.”

“I can’t train them. Not now.” Not for another four years.

Between heroism and university, Taco hardly had much time for

anything, much less taking on an apprentice.

“No, but I could.” Really? Brunel Irekes? He only had the

basics of Melody’s power under his belt.

“Why don’t you just take my place, then?”

“Oh absolutely not. I’ve done enough hero work to last a

lifetime.” A lifetime? That was a pretty long time. Or maybe it was not,

considering the nature of hero work.

“How would you be able to train them, then?”

“Oh simply, really. Most magic stuff people just gotta figure

out as they go, and I could easily teach them martial arts. I bet Liv’d be

willing to help out.”

“Liv?” Who was Liv?

“Your assistant?” Oh, that was Liv, “Well, I suppose you’ve

only had her around for a couple of months. She’s nice, though. Nicer

than your last ones.”

“What do you know about my past assistants?” As far as Taco

knew, nothing regarding their statuses had been released to the public.

“Nothing, nothing! Just that their contracts terminated a little

earlier than anyone was expecting.” Well, of course. They had all been

fired.

“Good.”

“So… why don’t you?”

“Stop being a hero!” Brunel Irekes sounded a bit exasperated,

“You obviously don’t like it, and there are tons of people who would

kill to have your job. Why don’t you just find a successor and retire

early?”

“I am not Optokinesis.” Optokinesis had retired early and Taco

would never forgive them for it.

“No, you’re not. You’ve been a hero for fourteen years now,

Taco. You’re entitled to quit any time you’d like! You’ve gotten a lot

done and will leave behind other people who will get things done rather

than a couple of villains who say they’re sorry.” Taco chuckled at that.

If Carcinoid ever approached them and apologized, they would

probably attempt to put her behind bars.

“I will think about it.” Taco was beginning to feel rather tired,

despite the fact that they had apparently been sleeping on-and-off for

the past twelve hours.

“Try to get some rest. That’s good for concussions, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Their voice trailed off as Brunel Irekes leaned back

into his seat. Taco closed their eyes and let unconsciousness wash over

them once more.

Part 17

When Taco woke up once more, the room was empty. Taco

carefully sat up in the hospital bed and winced as the world became

slightly blurrier. The door carefully slid open.

“Oh, you’re awake.” The nurse remarked, wheeling in a small

cart, “Well, that’s good. I’ve brought you some food and water in case

you’d be in need of it.” Water? Come to think of it, Taco was feeling

rather thirsty.

“Yes, please.” The cart found its way beside their bed, and

Taco quickly took the glass of water.

“Now, be careful. I know you’re thirsty, but you probably can’t

handle downing it all at once.” Taco nodded at the nurse’s words and

took a small sip of water. The cold liquid made its way down their sore

threat, and it took considerable effort not to chug the rest then and

there.

“How long have I been here?” They asked once the glass was

empty, setting it back down on the cart.

“Oh, nearly a day. Let’s see…” The nurse glanced at their

watch, “Twenty-five hours.”

“Oh.” Taco had missed their classes for the day. The nurse

seemed to recognize their distress.

“Worry not, your professors were notified of your absence.”

They said with a smile, “And your assignments have been emailed to

your school address.” Okay, that was good. At the very least Taco

wouldn’t have to personally approach the professors and ask for their

assignments.

“Thank you.”

“Ah, it wasn’t me,” The nurse said with a small smile,

“Obviously.” They looked down at Taco, “Are you going to eat

anything?”

“I suppose.” Though, hospital food sounded really unappetizing

at the moment. Taco could only hope that what had been prepared

would fit their diet, or at the very least that their assistant would be

forgiving. They carefully munched on a piece of spinach.

“As soon as you feel capable of getting up, I’d advise visiting

Melody. She’s been quite eager to see you, as one would expect.”

Melody was still on bed rest, wasn’t she?

“Shall we go now?” Taco asked, standing up and steadying

themself on the bed.

“I guess so. Are you sure you’d be up to it?” The nurse was

concerned, and for good reason. Taco felt their head lightly pound as

they waved them off.

“I will be alright.”

“Well…” The nurse hesitated, “Alright, then. I guess so.” Taco

followed the nurse out of the room and towards Melody’s door, trying

not to stumble or clutch onto the walls as they went. When the two

came to the familiar door, Taco was able to regain their balance enough

to open it themself.

“Hello.” Taco greeted Melody, who very quickly looked up and

threw down the book she was reading.

“Taco!” She opened her arms wide in the air, “Come here,

come here. How have you been?” Taco stumbled over to Melody’s bed

and hugged their mentor.

“I have been better.” Taco had been worse, too.

“What was up with your behavior?” She asked, before looking

towards the nurse, “Do you know?”

“Not yet.” The nurse said simply.

“My behavior?” Taco inquired. Had Taco done something

wrong, somehow?

“You woke up a couple times, not that we expect you to

remember. You lashed out at those in the room” Melody explained.

Lashed out?

“Really, ma’am,” The nurse began, “It’s perfectly normal for

some-”

“Four times in total,” Melody continued heedlessly, “and once

while you were being taken off of the field. Meaning: where people

could see you. Do you know how much that tarnishes our reputation?”

“I apologize.” Taco did know how much improper conduct

could tarnish their heroic reputation.

“How did you even manage to get caught by Subcortical, out

of all of them?” Melody asked.

“I failed to maintain adequate spatial awareness.” As

teleporting often left them dizzy, it was hard to remain focused

immediately afterward.

“You’ll need to work on your teleportation skills.” Melody

knew, as she always knew.

“Of course.” Taco would have to train in the warehouse,

potentially while Brunel Irekes was working on his own magical skills.

“Well, I’m glad you’re alive and well, at least. Maybe throw

some extra combat training in there.” Melody instructed. Yes, Taco was

growing a bit slopping in combat due to their focus on rescuing

civilians. With Faux-Melody, the city couldn’t afford to have only one

hero on offense.

“Thank you.” Taco nodded, making a note to tell their

personal assistant to fit training into the schedule.

“Of course. Where would you be without your old mentor?

Now, don’t forget me while you’re out there doing good.

“I won’t.” Taco said, nodding again. They probably couldn’t

forget Melody even if they wanted to. “Why are you a hero?” Taco

could not help the words that fell out of their mouth. Perhaps they

needed more verbal training, as well. Melody blinked in surprise.

“Well, I suppose I just am.” She laughed, “I’ve been a hero for

so long, it’s a little hard to imagine life without getting called out of the

office at least twice a week to go beat up some villains. This situation

has certainly given me some insight on how boring retirement will be.”

“But… Why did you become a hero? How were you

convinced?” Convinced was probably not the best term, but Taco didn’t

really care. Melody hadn’t answered their question.

“I suppose I was just offered it one day. I didn’t really

question it- when someone says you can become a hero, you become a

hero.” “Why, though?” That explanation just did not make sense.

“To help people, of course.”

“Is being a hero the only way to help people?” Surely the

nurse in the room would agree that police officers and health care

workers helped just as many people.

“Well, no, but it’s certainly one of the best?”

“Why?” Why become a hero, though? Why, when someone

else was bound to be more eager and certain skills were more suited to

other professions? Why become a hero if it just made everyone

miserable?

Were they miserable?

“Because we are the backbone of the merchandise sales that

make this city a better place.” Melody said.

“But I-” Taco began.

“That’s quite enough, thank you.” Melody’s sharp tone

snapped Taco out of… whatever was wrong with them.

“I apologize.”

“Listen, Taco, you’re a hero because you are. You chose to

help people and you are. You wanted to make a difference and you

are.” “I…” Taco winced, “I apologize, for my questioning. I do

enjoy assisting others.”

“All is forgiven,” Melody waved them off, “Honestly, Taco, I

don’t know what’s gotten into you these days. You hardly visit me,

you’re falling behind on combat training, and Liv tells me you’ve spent

more time on spreadsheets and college assignments than doing actual

hero work.” Liv? Oh, right, wasn’t that their assistant?”

“My spreadsheets lowered the projected cost of decorations for

the convention by two percent.” Taco defended. They had quite

enjoyed completing them, too. Besides, the only reason they were even

in university was because Melody insisted they have a proper degree.

“I’m not saying it isn’t important, I’m just saying that’s not

your job.” Melody explained, “And nor is being a college student. I

ought to have considered the extra workload it would have placed on

you.”

“I…” Taco had actually been enjoying their university

experience, really. The crowds of fans had mostly died down by the

second semester.

“I hope you’d be willing to reconsider going back after the

summertime.” Was Melody suggesting they… drop out of college? The

idea was ludicrous. What would the civilians think?

“Bu-” Taco began.

“Excuse me, but I do believe you need to take some mandatory

tests now, Taco. The doctor has arrived.” The nurse gently opened the

door and Taco went through.

They did not say good-bye.

Part 18

In Taco’s opinion, Emilio had done a terrible job of cleaning

the countertops of their common area. He had left stains, grease from a

pizza, and terrible streak marks. Unfortunately as he was not awake to

receive a rebuke, Taco pulled out the cleaning supplies and began doing

the work themself. The smell of cleaning supplies was comforting, in a

way. “Are you… stress cleaning?” Sawyer asked, squinting as

though they could find the answer if they just looked a bit harder.

“No.” Taco was not stressed, they were just cleaning.

“Yeah… that looks like stress cleaning to me, buddy.” Sawyer

pulled over one of the dining chairs and sat in it backwards, “What’s

going on.”

“Nothing?” Taco feigned ignorance, even though they really

did not have to feign anything at all because there was nothing ‘going

on.’ “Really?” Sawyer raised an eyebrow and Taco was reminded

of Melody. They scrubbed the countertop a little harder. “You got a

concussion the day before yesterday, didn’t you? I mean- that was why

you couldn’t come to the dorm last night.”

“I did.”

“Has that got anything to do with this?” What ‘this’ was

Sawyer referring to? Taco wasn’t stressed.

“I… suppose so.” If Sawyer was expecting an answer, it was

unlikely they would give up without receiving one. Taco had seen very

similar patterns of behavior in the reporters they had dealt with over the

years. Considering Sawyer was hoping to go into political journalism,

Taco really should not have been surprised.

“Did you have a bad dream, or something?”

“No.” As far as Taco was aware, they had not dreamt at all

while they were knocked out.

“Did Melody scold you?” Sawyer continued. Taco froze, “Oh

Core. She did, didn’t she? What did she say?”

“No,” Then, because Taco had remembered that Sawyer would

likely ask them to room again next year, they added, “She wants me to

drop out.”

“Oh.”

“The workload just… has not matched my hero schedule, and

I need to do more training exercises.” As much as Taco disliked

training exercises, they knew practice was essential for a good hero.

“Damn.” Sawyer leaned forward a bit, testing the chair’s

craftsmanship, “Do you think it messes with your work?”

“...No.” Sure, Taco had to reschedule a few things, but they

always had to reschedule a few things in the hero tower. That was just a

part of life. Taco had completed their assignments in a timely manner,

kept up with and exceeded their paperwork quotas, and had experienced

zero civilian casualties. All in all they thought they were doing pretty

good in life.

“Why does she really want you to quit, then?” Sawyer asked

as Taco squeezed out theri sponge.

“I asked why she became a hero.”

“And?”

“To help people.” It had been a pathetic answer, really. Even

Melody’s scripted response was far better.

“Well, that’s nice.”

“That’s the problem, though,” Taco said with a scowl, “I am

putting together an anti-dueling convention when that’s basically all

this is. Heroes and villains going at each other's throats except one party

gets to make laws and speeches.”

“There are civilians involved, you know?” Sawyer pointed

out. “But there would not be if not for her. We only had one villain

before she got into the business, and they were actually fairly friendly

with the heroes. Core, he even attended one of their conventions and

gave a speech against drug usage. It was not until Melody went public

that other villains started popping up.”

“How do you know they’re her fault, exactly?” Sawyer asked.

Taco faltered. That… It was restricted information. They could not tell

the story of how Melody misplaced two magical objects to anyone

outside of Melody- not even assistants could know.

“...I just do.” Hopefully Sawyer would understand.

“Alright, so she goes in and all the villains jump on top of her.

How do heroes get selected again?”

“By magical potential,” Taco explained, “It’s hereditary, and

the more you use the more you pass on to your kids, so virtually all

heroes are at least second generation.” Melody’s father had been a hero,

and so had her grandfather, and hence she was set from the start.

“Okay, so there’s a bit of nepotism. Melody gets in, beats up

the bad guys she brought with her, gives the speeches her assistant

writes, and then gets a vote on the Heroic Council. Who says that her

votes aren’ the best.”

“Me. Melody voted for reconstructive architecture last year,

remember?”

“Oh.” Sawyer frowned, “Yeah, that was… pretty bad.”

“It would have been understandable if it was the popular vote,

because Melody is supposed to represent the will of the people of Der

Verde. I’m supposed to represent the will of the people of Der Verde

and I…” Taco’s voice trailed off.

“You don’t. You’re just one person, and we don’t have any

kind of hive mind stuff going on. That’s perfectly normal.”

“Is it? The average person does not have any say in what laws

are passed, save for their influence on approval ratings. Approval

ratings are based on merchandise sales, so only those who can afford

merchandise have a say and it’s a remarkably small sway.” Perhaps

Taco had gone a little too far down the ‘questioning heroism’ line of

questions, but it had revealed a lot of problems Taco had simply

ignored before.

“Who’s to say we’d be any better, though? I mean- the hero

system has worked out so far and civilians are pretty stupid, if you

hadn’t noticed.”

“Has the hero system worked, though. Very few are actually

happy, they are just not allowed to slander the heroes.”

“I’m not allowed to slander the heroes,” Sawyer reminded

them, “Particularly in front of a hero.”

“That is… fine, I suppose.” Taco sighed, “I just do not know if

our system really works or not. I do not know why I am even a hero, if

heroes just make things worse. Even if heroes make things better, I do

not know why it is the path I am on. I don’t even like punching things.”

“You don’t?” Sawyer asked. Taco shook their head, “Well

why are you a hero, then?”

“I don’t know. That’s the whole point, Sawyer, I don’t know.”

Taco threw the sponge onto the counter as if proving a point, “I am

frankly terrified that the only reason I decided to be a hero is because

Melody found some little four-year-old on the street and taught them

that being a hero was their only option.”

“It-”

“I know, I know,” Taco waved Sawyer off, picking up the

sponge, “The Keeper probably said I had magical potential. At least one

of my parents or grandparents had a magical object for some period of

time, probably as a villain. I just…” Taco sighed, “I just want to do

something I like doing, you know? And what if that isn’t heroism?”

“Then it isn’t.” Sawyer stood up and moved closer to Taco,

“Then it isn’t. There’s probably some release clause in your contract.

You don’t have to be a hero, Taco.”

“But Taco is-” Taco’s words came to a stop as Sawyer placed

their hands on Taco’s shoulders.

“You don’t have to be a hero, Taco,” They repeated, “You

don’t. I know it’s not the same, but my parents totally wanted me to be

a doctor. They were both doctors, but I Can't stand the sight of blood.

So I’m going to be a journalist one day because it’s what I want to do,

not because anyone else told me that I should.”

“But-”

“Nope. I even took one of those little career assessments that

looks at what you're good at and it told me I should be a biologist. It

doesn’t matter what you’re good at, Taco. What matters is what makes

you happy. You don’t have to be a hero.”

“She’d know.” No matter what they did, Melody would find

out. If not immediately, then eventually. Taco did not want to imagine

the look of disappointment on Melody’s face if they told her that being

a hero wasn’t for them.

“She would. Is that something you’re okay with?” Sawyer

asked. Would Taco be okay with basically abandoning the only family

they had ever known?

“I.. don’t know.” Probably not. Taco had once brought up the

idea of quitting heroism at dinner, back when they were in middle years

at academy. Melody had just laughed and passed them more

merchandise to sign.

“Well then figure it out.” Figure it out? Taco wished it were

that easy, “You’ve got time to decide this, Taco. It’s your life. Figure

out what works best for you and where you want to go. That’s what

college is for, isn’t it?”

“I think they say that about your upper years, too.” Taco

pointed out. Sawyer waved them off.

“Yeah, yeah, and they say that about when you’re middle

aged. You just gotta promise that you’ll actually think about it, not just

accept whatever comes your way and think that things are never going

to change.” Think that things were never going to change? When had

Taco ever thought-

Oh.

Well, maybe they had. Maybe Taco had thought, for a large

portion of their life so far, that they were going to be a hero forever.

That thought did not make them happy, though, not in the same way it

seemed to make Melody.

“Things will change.” Even if Taco could not fully step down

from being a hero, they were going to start doing things that they

actually liked to do. If that meant doing their assistant’s spreadsheets,

then so be it. They liked spreadsheets.

“That’s the spirit!” Sawyer mock-cheered, “Now, would you

be so kind as to move over so I can get to the kettle?” Taco politely

moved out of the way. “Many thanks.”

Taco put away the cleaning supplies and went back into their

room. They still had assignments to complete, afterall. Particularly

since they were going to be heading back to the University of Der

Verde the next year.

Was Sawyer their friend?

Taco was not sure. They had only held minimal conversations

in the morning, and Taco was not even sure what Sawyer’s favorite

color was. Yet, they had most certainly shared a moment. Or maybe

only Taco had shared a moment. Vulnerability had to be a two-way

street, as Taco had read.

They did not really have much experience in the matter, so

they would have to trust the books.

Part 19

“Taco, Ms. Cantana would like to speak with you.” At the

sound of their assistant’s voice, Taco looked up from their desk.

“Harmony?” Why did Harmony want to see them? What was

she even doing in the hero office?

“As quickly as possible, in her own words.” Taco’s assistant

elaborated.

“Very well then.” Of course, Taco had not forgotten that their

assistant had informed Melody about Taco’s spreadsheets. They were

still a bit sore about that, really, but assistants were far and few

between, and they had been one of the better ones.

“Ah! Taco! You’re here!” Harmony entered the room and sat

down. “I am.”

Great! You see, I have much to discuss with you. Liv,

privately if you’d please?” Harmony turned to Taco’s assistant, who

stepped out of the room.

“What would you like to talk to me about, Harmony?” Taco

asked, still wholly confused as to the subject of their conversation.

“I think I’ve found a breakthrough in the identities of the

villains.”

“What?”

“Yeah!” Harmony grinned, “I wanted to run it by you, but my

people are already conducting more extensive investigations of the

suspects. We haven’t taken anyone in, but we’ve narrowed it down to a

list of three for each villain.” Three? Did Harmony mean to tell them

that by interviewing and investigating just nine people, she could

potentially end villainy in Der Verde?

“Who?” Taco asked.

“See for yourself.” Harmony handed Taco a manila folder,

which they quickly opened. They flipped through the suspects for

Cacophony.

“Patricia Nivi, Lianne Potchuli, and Kay Everell? Taco took a

second glance at the photo, confirming that the Kay Everell in the file

was in fact the Kay who was their roommate.

“Isn’t it great? All of them are the right height, the right

estimated age, and haven’t been seen during a crime. Not even visiting

another city!” Well, that certainly sounded too good to be true.

“Isn’t that too good to be true?” They asked, still a bit in awe

by the sudden influx of information.

“I know it looks that way to you, since you haven’t been

deeply involved in the investigation and all, but look.” Harmony picked

up Kay’s photo, “This one had bought tickets to visit Sol Undre during

one of the attacks so wrote her off, only to later discover that she didn’t

actually use the tickets.”

“Huh.” Well, that was odd, but it could be explained easily

enough.

“She didn’t even get a refund or anything. The tickets went

unused, and none of our cameras picked her up during the entire

weekend. Was she planning on that being her alibi?” Getting a train

ticket for an alibi was not particularly clever, since the city kept track of

everyone who got on and off the trains, but Cacophony was not known

for being particularly clever.

“Who knows?”

‘Which is why we’re doing a follow-up. All of them will be

taken in for questioning sometime next week.” Harmony put Kay’s

photo away as Taco opened the file for Dischord. Dischord was

technically the leader of the villains, so her identity was crucial for

taking the team down.

“Ospir Burns, Reisha Miller, and Avery Reed.” None of the

names were familiar, though that was likely a good thing.

“Yup. Once again, they all match the description. Though,

we’re a bit cautious about those ones. Dischord's slippery, you know?”

“I know.” Dischord was often the villain to slip out of their

restraints and save the team at the last minute, and under normal

circumstances was the only villain capable of keeping up with Melody.

“So they might not pan out, but at least we’ll cross three off.”

“Alright.” Regardless of how many villains they took out of

the picture, even one would mean that the citizens of Der Verde could

rest a bit easier.

Part 20

“It is on the second of March that the first meeting of the

Anonymous Anti-Optokinesis Club takes place. Present are two

members, who shall henceforth be referred to as ‘T’ and ‘B’.” Taco

rolled their eyes.

“I sincerely doubt that we need codenames.” They informed

Brunel Irekes, who shushed them.

“Let me get into it,” He hissed, “Now, the first topic of our

meeting today is this: Optokinesis’ introduction to the world. T, what

do you have to say?” Was everyone else who enjoyed finding flaws in

Optokinesis’ heroic style as crazy as Brunel Irekes? If so, Taco may

need to rethink their philosophies.

“Well, their introduction was frankly terrible. Optokinesis had

already been introduced at the previous annual conference to the rest of

the heroes. For some reason, though, they did not want to go public

until there were actual villains to fight. It is clear that they wanted the

glory of saving people as their introduction to the public, to boost their

popularity ratings.”

“The fight wasn’t even that great!” Brunel Irekes added, “It

was poorly documented on account of the lack of cameras Optokinesis

kept on their suit. In addition, all video footage from the homeowners’

security systems was burned in the fire. While there were no civilian

injuries or casualties, three whole floors were reduced to ash.”

“Three floors.” Taco echoed. It was incredible to think that

three buildings could get burned and yet not a single person got injured.

“Then, the response to their introduction- oh don’t get me

started!”

“After Optokinesis went and let three floors get burned to the

ground and the villains got away, they received much applause.

Understandably, the citizens didn’t have a Sol Undran hero for several

decades, but wasn’t that a little much?” Taco could not possibly

imagine a crowd giving such an overwhelming response to their

speeches or battles.

“Their speech wasn’t even well-written. And yet, despite that,

over one million pieces of Optokinesis merchandise were pre-ordered

by their second day in the heroics business.” Brunel Irekes said with a

scowl, and Taco sympathized. One million pieces of Der Verden

merchandise would nearly double the current treasury.

“Now, mind you, as a hero who had attend that annual

conference where they were first introduced, every other hero had

assumed that Optokinesis would not be well-received by the public due

to their off-putting appearance. We did not anticipate that many citizens

of Sol Undra would…” Taco paused, trying to find the word that would

not make them vomit, “Sexualize… an eyeball.” Optokinesis fanart was

the stuff of Taco’s nightmares.

“Remember that time when Caustel snuck in and burned down

everything in one of the merchandise factory-warehouses except the

life-size models?” Brunel Irekes asked.

“I do.” Taco said, shivering at the memory.

“I think he was just too intimidated. I mean- what kind of

human being goes out of their way to measure and exactly replicate

another human being?”

“They tried bringing those up as one of my merchandise lines

as soon at I turned eighteen, but I-”

“No, no, no,” Brunel Irekes very quickly hushed them, “This

is an anonymous meeting, remember? You are T.”

“There’s nobody here but us.” Taco pointed out. Even if they

were technically in a meeting room open to all university students, no

one was going to come in uninvited.

“You don’t know that, T. You never know who might be

watching us. Somebody could be in here, lurking in the shadows at this

very moment.” The lights were very much on in the room, and the only

shadows were those cast by the two occupants.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Believe what you’d like, we are always better safe than

sorry.” “You talked smack about Optokinesis in an elevator next to

another hero.”

“I know you’d be willing to hear me out.” Brunel Irekes

waved them off.

“And how is that?” Taco had actually thought they were doing

a fairly good job of masking their disdain for Optokinesis.

“Listen, I watched the livestream of Optokinesis announcing

their retirement with all the other heroes to quote-on-quote ‘back them

up’.” Brunel Irekes said, “It was fairly obvious.”

“How obvious?” Taco honestly could not remember what

expression they had chosen for Optokinesis declaring their retirement.

“Incredibly obvious. I'm fairly certain you were glaring at

them, T.”

“Of course I did.” They groaned. Regardless of how much

training they went through, the topic of Optokinesis always somehow

made their face pinch up as if they had eaten something sour.

“To be fair, though, I think everyone knows why. Optokinesis’

decision to make villains the new heroes of Sol Undra was one of the

only situations in which the general public actually reacted somewhat

normally.” Well, that was good to know. At least logic was not

completely lost within the minds of the citizens of Sol Undra, “Granted,

that only lasted a couple of months before they started buying

merchandise for the new heroes in bulk, too. Remember last summer

when they wanted to make a fire-breaking Egnistel toy?”

“Oh Core, I do.” That had been a very lengthy political battle,

one which Taco could only watch. The idea had thankfully been shot

down by Egnistell himself before things got too out of hand. Well, as if

two weeks of trials were not ‘out of hand’ enough.

“It was so strange how easily they managed to buy over the

civilians’ trust.” Brunel Irekes mused.

“Well, when you think about it, there were actually very few

civilian injuries when they were villains. There was less public property

damage, too. I suppose people decided that they were not too bad as

villains and thus that they must have had a little bit of heroism in them

after all.”

“It’s really Optokinesis who’s the problem. Establishing three

new heroes? Everyone knows that’s a political move, they just assumed

it’d be fine when Optokinesis retired. We can not dismiss that they

might have had ulterior motives.”

“Ulterior motives?” Taco queried. What had Optokinesis not

had? They had power, both politically and physically. They were

generally regarded as the strongest hero in the entire era, and they had

swarms of devoted fans. Optokinesis was well-loved and well-fought,

yet there had been something they wanted so badly that they decided to

make the villains heroes.

“Do you suppose it has something to do with the Verojas

Trio?” Brunel Irekes prompted, “I mean- that’s where the villains got

their magical objects, isn’t it?” Taco nodded. Nearly all modern villains

got their magical objects by agreeing to become the Verojas Trio’s

lackeys. Actually, come to think of it…

“How did they manage to get around that deal?” People who

crossed the Verojas Trio were usually dead within the day, regardless

of what city they were in or how many heroes were around them.

“I… don’t know. Maybe the villains agreed to be double

agents. Maybe Optokinesis was working with the Verojas Trio all

along. The problem is, we don’t know. Maybe we never well,

especially now that Optokinesis has gone and retired.”

“What if Optokinesis has not really retired, though?” Taco

asked, “Have they gone over to the Verojas Trio officially?” It would

explain a lot of things.

“That might be why they retired so early.” Yes, Brunel Irekes’

suggestion was not on Taco’s list of ‘things’.

“What do you mean? It was fairly public that Optokinesis was

old when they joined?” ‘Old’ being about Melody’s age, as heroes

generally didn’t work past their mid-thirties.

“Well, that’s what they wanted people to think. If you analyze

Optokinesis’ patterns of speech, though, they pretty much talk as if

they’re our age, or somewhere near. It could have been a marketing

strategy, but I do think that there were more than a few things

Optokinesis kept from the public eye.” If Optokinesis’ secret identity

was just some college-age kid who had both secretly worked with the

Verojas Trio and was known as one of the greatest heroes the era had

ever seen, Taco was clearly spending their time poorly.

“I guess we’ll keep that in mind if any villains our age start

popping up out of nowhere. Though, their magical object is in the

Keeper’s possession right now, so Optokinesis didn’t take it.”

“Actually, it was checked out last week.” Or not.

“What?” How did Brunel Irekes, of all people, know that?

“Yup.” He nodded, “The Keeper’s been visiting me pretty

regularly to check in on my magical potential or whatever,” Which did

make sense, considering that Brunel Irekes had an enormous amount of

magical potential, “And last week it said that the Ring of Eyes had

recently been checked out. It wouldn’t specify who or from what city,

though.”

“Surely the Keeper would not give a magical object to a

villain.” Taco claimed.

“I mean, if it thought the villain was actually one of their most

faithful heroes it might.” Brunel Irekes said with a shrug.

“No, no,” Taco continued, “The Keeper has some pretty weird

powers, and I doubt Optokinesis could fool it.”

“They did it once.”

“Then maybe Optokinesis is not with the Verojas Trio.

Perhaps it is just the villains who are.”

“Well, considering that Optokinesis went ahead and

recommended that they become heroes, wouldn’t they have had to

communicate that with them before going forwards? Wouldn’t the

Keeper have used these powers that you’ve mentioned to detect their

malicious thoughts?”

“Then…” Taco frowned, “the Keeper…” They trailed off. If

the Keeper wasn’t an omnipotent being, what were they? “Can we, um,

change the subject?”

“Sure.” Brunel Irekes shrugged, “Hey, didn’t Wrath

supposedly develop the ability to use fire without having a magical

object?” Taco nodded. That bit of information was hidden from the

public, but pretty well-known in hero circles because, well, it was

important to know that it could be done, “Do you think he might be the

Hand of God?”

“What?” Absolutely not. Wrath had, though out-of-date and

shunned, been Taco’s childhood hero. They had watched his videos and

just found it hard to believe that he would have ever sided with villains.

“Well, the Pinnacle of the Core was burned down pretty

quickly after Wrath was supposedly relocated, and they only reported

the relocation afterwards. That can’t be a coincidence.” No. It…

probably was not.

“So Triple went in, found Wrath, and convinced him to join

their villainous plots? I find that hard to believe.” Wrath had been so…

heroic. He had well-written speeches, a great costume design, and

fantastic policy opinions.

“I mean, he can’t have liked heroes much.”

“No, I suppose not.” Of course, at that point Wrath would

have been in custody for two years.

“And, if you think about it, a lot of New Verojas’ new policies

are based on Wrath’s failed Better for Everyone Policy.” Brunel Irekes

pointed out, which… Taco really had not thought about. A lot of their

policies were based on the Better for Everyone Policy.

“But the Verojas Trio are the bad guys.” They were though,

right? Sure, the Verojas Trio were not the masterminds behind Der

Verde’s own set of villains, and Der Verde was known for having some

of the most ruthless villains in the world, but the Verojas Trio had

gotten their start in drug dealing.

“I mean, sure.” Brunel Irekes conceded, “So Wrath joined

them, hung around, and when New Verojas was formed he went up to

start killing people in Sol Undra. Then Optokinesis showed up and

joined the gang.”

“We still have not confirmed that Optokinesis was or is a

member of the Verojas Trio.” Taco was fairly certain that they had

agreed to meet up for a session of criticizing Optokinesis, not

theorizing about villains.

“Well, no.” Brunel Irekes sighed, “Hey… do you ever think

that they were spying on the citizens of Sol Undra? I mean- their power

allowed them to form eyes, did it not? Why wouldn’t they just place

inconspicuous eyes everywhere around the city to keep watch.”

“There is a limit to Optokinesis’ power.” Taco pointed out,

“And besides, every city uses cameras since what happened to

Verojas.”

“Well, yeah, but outside of the normal camera. I mean- things

that they didn’t want the Keeper to see, or anyone else for that matter.

Optokinesis had a huge amount of magical potential, which we

basically never saw them use in battle. Plus, given all the pointless

speeches they made, who can say how often they actually reverted to

their civilian form?”

“That… would be an invasion of privacy.” Taco pointed out.

“Did you know Optokinesis as a respecter of privacy?” Brunel

Irekes asked, feigning surprise. Taco… Well, they did not, actually.

Optokinesis had basically trailed after Taco every day during their first

heroic council meetings, and when they started implementing Taco’s

policy… Hm.

“It’s a bit creepy to think of, is it not?” Taco had only been in

Sol Undra for a short time, but Brunel Irekes had lived there most of his

life. They could only imagine what it would feel like to be watched

every waking moment. At very least the media was mostly filtered.

“Oh, absolutely.” Brunel Irekes nodded. They were both silent

for a while.

“Harmony’s put together a list of three suspects for each

villain.” Taco informed him, breaking the silence, “She’s planning to

take them all in for questioning tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Actually, Kay is potentially Cacophony.” Perhaps that would

get Brunel Irekes to show interest.

“Who?” Or not.

“The one who challenged you to a duel at the beginning of the

semester.” Taco explained.

“Oh, okay,” Brunel Irekes nodded, recognition reflected on his

features, “Cool. I don’t think it’s here.”

“Why?” Taco was not quite convinced, either.

“I dunno. I mean- if she is, she is, but I don’t think so. I’ll ask

Harmony for the files, if she’ll let me borrow um, but… yeah, I dunno.”

He just shrugged, the answer making basically no sense.

“Okay.” Taco would pretend it made sense, anyway.

“Well, keep an eye out on your roommate when you can, I

guess.” Brunel Irekes looked down at his watch, “Oh, shoot, I gotta go.

I here-by call the first meeting of the Anonymous Anti-Optokinesis

Club to a close.”

“There still aren’t any other members.” Taco pointed out,

rolling their eyes again. Two people sitting alone in a room could

hardly be called a club.

“But I’ll scout them out. You’ll see, Taco.” Somehow they

highly doubted that, though for some reason they felt that if anyone

could convince another person to hate Optokinesis it was Brunel Irekes.

Well, him or Optokinesis themself. Meeting heroes in person usually

broke the image fan’s had created in their mind.

“Goodbye.”

Part 21

As luck would have it, Kay was watching television on the

couch when Taco returned. It was rather odd, considering that he

usually went into his room to watch thrillers, particularly so close to

‘lights out’ but Taco was not going to be the one to point it out.

Afterall, there was a small chance that the college student in front of

them was Cacophony, and Taco had absolutely no sympathy for

villains.

“Cutting it close there, hero,” Kay laughed as Taco closed the

door, “Lights out is in just ten minutes, you know?”

“How much longer is your movie?” They retaliated. Kay

huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get out soon. I just wanted to watch this one

on the big screen, y’know?” No, they didn’t know. Taco did not really

watch anything.

“No.” They confessed.

“What?” Kay paused her movie and looked up at Taco

curiously.

“I do not know what it is like to want to watch something on a

big screen.” Taco had some faint childhood memories of Melody trying

to get them to watch something on the television, and they certainly had

to preview their miniseries, but they had never felt the urge to watch

those things. Thus, the screen size had no effect on their desire to watch

something.

“Yeah, okay,” Kay scoffed, “Dunno what I expected.”

“Why did you challenge Brunel Irekes to a duel, Kay?” Taco

asked, hoping to get straight to the point. Kay’s reasoning for the duel

would be a key factor in figuring out whether or not she was

Cacophony. Probably.

“Wow, absolutely no tact at all.”

“No.” Taco had never been known for their tact, in or out of

the heroic persona.

“I mean- I dunno.” Kay sighed, “Maybe I just wanted to,

okay? It was pretty late, anyway, can we just say I was sleep-

deprived?” Yet Kay was up then, just minutes before midnight.

“No.” Taco wanted to know why Kay had challenged Brunel

Irekes to a duel, and that was that.

“Well, okay. I don’t think you’ll get it, for obvious reasons,

but I wanted to prove that stupid rich people are no better than the rest

of us, y’know? Like- as far as I knew he was just some kid who got into

college on his parents’ money and had spent his entire life as a recluse.

How was I supposed to know that he was crazy strong?” h, so Kay was

still a bit sore about her defeat.

“You weren't. I think that was the point, actually.” No one was

supposed to know what Brunel Irekes had been doing throughout his

childhood, whatever it was. Taco had absolutely no doubt that the

Irekes Foundation had bribed several reporters into keeping their noses

out of the family business.

“Yeah, well, it just didn’t turn out, I guess. Maybe spending a

fortune on self-defense training actually counts in some way, how am I

supposed to know?”

“Are you self taught?” Theoretically, the villains could and

would have provided training to their ranks.

“I am. I used to regularly punch some justice into bullies at

Der Verde Public School, though I guess you wouldn’t know much

about that.” Well, no. Taco had been homeschooled prior to university,

of course, but they assumed that gossip would spread about Kay’s

academy habits at some point or another.

“Oh?” They would not believe it. Not yet.

“Yeah. It was tons of fun, cause all of ‘em were rich as fuck,

too.” That certainly explained why the newspapers hadn’t reported on a

school kid beating up others, but it did not explain why fellow school

kids would not tattle.

“I would assume that there would be a fair amount of gossip

around you, then.” Taco pointed out. Kay laughed dryly.

“Oh there was,” He sneered, “People just got sick of me when

you showed up. Tried to get the game going again, but you see how that

turned out.” Indeed Taco had.

“Brunel Irekes is not a schoolyard bully.” Excluding their

meetings to conspire against Optokinesis, Brunel Irekes was rarely

mean. He was a little bit mad, yes, but he did not seem like the type to

traditionally shove nerds in lockers.

“No, he’s not, but he’s bonkers rich. And where does he spend

it? Absolutely nowhere, no helping the economy, no helping charity, no

nuthin’. And he thinks he can just go to the school that I worked my ass

off to get into? Naw! I think not!” Kay grew more heated as she spoke.

“Do you dislike me for being wealthy?” Taco would not

describe themself as rich, anymore than they would describe Der Verde

as prosperous. Yet, they had been able to save up the money to attend

Der Verde University.

“You?” Kay made eye contact with Taco, and they looked

away quickly, “Naw. Not ‘nymore. Crazy famous, maybe, but not rich.

Core knows the city couldn’t afford rich heroes.”

“Thank you, I suppose.” While it had been a huge deal for

Optokinesis to declare that they would only take a quarter of the

merchandise profits, even Taco’s half-deal meant that they generally

saw nothing at all.

“Don’t thank me. Ya save people, dontcha?”

“I suppose.” Saving civilians was their job, at least for the time

being. It would be remarkably selfish of them to simply not.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now, you're gonna leave me alone so

I can finish my movie and yer not gonna tell Sawyer about this in the

morning.” Kay ordered. Taco checked the clock.

“I shall not.” If Taco told Sawyer about Kay staying up past

lights out, they would have to confess to staying up themself.

“Then they never gotta know. Fucker could sleep through

anything. Moral of the story’s, I tried to beat up Irekes cause no one

else’s gonna stand up to the richies.” Hm. A statement like that was

either the mission statement of a villain or a hero, and Taco would find

out very soon. In any case, if Kay was not Cacophony, they would be

keeping her in mind as a potential recipient of a magical object.

“Goodnight.”

Part 22

“Good morning, Taco.” As per usual, Sawyer was sitting on

the couch when Taco went out to brew their tea.

“Good morning.”

“What were you doing up so late last night?” Sawyer asked

eventually, shortly after Taco filled the kettle.

“...How do you…?” They trailed off. Sawyer was a fairly

heavy sleeper, usually.

“Emilio snitched.” Sawyer explained with a shrug.

“I had just gotten back from some of my hero duties.” Taco

lied. “Oh?”

“Just some paperwork that had to be completed before

midnight.” That was not technically a lie, as Taco had indeed

completed last-minute paperwork the day before. However, they had

done so before going to see Brunel Irekes.

“Why were you talking to Kay?” Was that an issue?

“Why wouldn’t I be talking to Kay?” Taco asked plainly.

“Well, I don’t know. What about the drama between Brunel

and him?” What about it?

“Why would I care about their drama?” Even Brunel Irekes

didn’t care about their ‘drama’.

“Y’know- the whole thing with you and Brunel?” Oh. Taco

had nearly forgotten that the majority of the university’s student

population was convinced that they and Brunel Irekes were an ‘item’.

“There is nothing with be and Brunel Irekes,” They reminded

Sawyer, “Besides, I have not spoken to Kay very much since we

became roommates.” That was one of the reasons why Taco liked Kay,

actually. She wasn’t incredibly talkative.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Sawyer thankfully let the topic

drop. Taco poured water into their mug and waited for the tea to steep,

“How has figuring out who you’re taking as an apprentice been going?”

“Well enough.” Taco still didn’t know who they wanted to

train. They hadn’t even spoken to the Keeper, yet, “I am focusing on

taking down at least one villain before then.” Even though Cacophony’s

suspect list included one of their roommates.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Going out in style, you

know?” Going out in style? Why would that be on Taco’s priority list?

“Like Optokinesis.” No.

“Not like Optokinesis.” Taco would never be like Optokinesis.

They were going to announce their retirement as soon as a villain was

captured and then they were going to stick around for at least three

months to wrap things up. At the very least, Taco would not quit until

Melody recovered.

“Why not?” For a brief moment, Taco forgot that the general

public did not, in fact, loathe Optokinesis. Then they remembered.

“Just… not that sudden, you know?” Taco could not do that to

the city. They would have to handle the situation with care.

“Alright. You aren’t thinking of reforming the villains, are

you?” “Absolutely not.” Taco shuddered at the very thought. They

just could not imagine Cacophony doing any good in the world- not

after all the ear damage she had given everyone in the city. They also

could not imagine Subcortical doing hero work, although for different

reasons. He was a tad on the weak side, for one, and it was evident that

he was only working with the villains for money. That kind of mindset

had no use in hero work.

“Well, that’s good. I can understand why the others could

convert, but I can’t imagine Dischord seeing a baby without kicking it.”

Sawyer laughed, and Taco nodded.

“Our villains are more ruthless than the Sol Undran villains

ever were. They are also, as you know, actually evil. The Sol Undran

villains had become villains because their political system was failing

them. Taco suspected that the Der Verden villains had become villains

simply because they could.

“That they are. I suspect that’s why they’ve been so hard to

catch. All villains, really. They’re willing to play dirty. Heroes… well,

you aren’t.” Ah yes, villains often used underhanded methods to

discover valuable information about the heroes. However, that did not

mean that the hero tower lacked tricks of their own.

“We play dirty enough.” Such as, say, the cameras in all public

spaces. “Oh do you? When?” The citizens were not supposed to know

about the cameras, though. The average citizen simply did not think

about how the beginning of fights were filmed, without reporters on the

scene. “...sometimes.” Mass hysteria was no joke, especially not after

what happened to Verojas.

“I’ll take your work for it. Though, I think that if you guys

really wanna fight the villains, you’re gonna have to think like the

villains. You think they don’t have some kind of way of getting all the

information from the hero tower? Think again, you guys have a ton of

employees.” The Der Verde Hero Office did have quite a few

employees, but each had to pass an incredibly extensive background

check to even apply, let alone be considered.

“We do not have any spies among us.” Taco assured their

roommate. Sawyer just shrugged noncommittally.

“You may not. I’m just saying- you may as well fight fire with

fire.” Fight fire with fire? The fire magical object was- oh. Not literally.

Theoretically, the heroes could communicate with a couple of

dealers in the black market. However, every employee of the hero

tower was publicly listed. Though… well. Taco did know someone

who was not technically employed by the hero tower, publicly at least.

That person may even have a valid reason for contacting the dealers.

“That might work, actually.” Taco took the first sip of their

tea, a plan already formulating in their mind.

Part 23

“Good evening.” Taco greeted, stepping into the warehouse

and shutting the door. They knew that Brunel Irekes would always be

just slightly earlier than them, though it annoyed them to no end.

“Good evening. Are we having another meeting tonight?” No,

they should think not.

“No. I have something else to discuss with you.” Brunel

Irekes’ eyes lit up with curiosity at their words, so Taco decided to

press forward, “But first, how has your mastery of the lyre been

going?”

“Eh, it’s been going.” Somehow Brunel Irekes had managed to

perfectly replicate Melody’s likeness within a week, yet he had still not

gotten a handle on her power.

“Would you care to demonstrate?”

Brunel Irekes sighed before singing half-heartedly. Melody

did not usually sing her melodies, but for some reason or another it was

the only way Brunel Irekes was able to actually make the instrument

release notes. Taco felt their hand come up in a wave

Brunel Irekes then went through the song, making Taco

complete a choreographed dance that they had set up some time before.

He still made mistakes, unfortunately, but he did not let the control slip

quite as much on the dip as he had the previous time. It was all a system

of trial and error, Taco supposed. Unfortunately for them, error meant

falling on their back when the music stopped.

“Well, there has been some improvement.” Taco informed

him, standing up. Hopefully he would get the routine before Melody

returned to her full health, though with so little time left it seemed

rather pointless.

“Yeah, yeah. We can get more practice later, though. What did

you want to tell me?” As Taco had learned, Brunel Irekes simply could

not resist a new piece of information. Unfortunately, Taco did not have

a new piece of information for them. They simply had a new plan.

“How would you feel about doing some digging in the black

market as the heir of the Irekes Foundation?” They asked. If Brunel

Irekes was morally against such a thing, they would completely

understand. However, as Taco had learned, the man was very rarely

unwilling to snoop.

“Why?” No outright refusals, yet. That was a good sign, was it

not?

“Well, we want to know the identities of the villains, yes?”

While it would take a bit of time and effort for Brunel Irekes to get so

involved in the black market that he could discover the identities of Der

Verde’s villains, any progress was good progress.

“I guess we do. Alright, yeah, I can do that.” Really? No

wondering how? The police force had spent years trying to figure out

where even the least powerful dealers conducted their business, and yet

Brunel Irekes could get in contact just like that?

“How?” Not that Taco did not trust them- though to be fair,

they were not sure they did, either- the whole ordeal sounded hard.

“Hey, my family’s pretty involved in this stuff.” Was he…

implying that the Irekes Foundation was actively involved in the black

market? “I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to figure out Der Verde’s

villains, though. Der Verde black markets are a different breed.”

“Will you require assistance?” Not that Taco would be much

help, but they could potentially contact Harmony.

“No. No, actually, I think it’d be best if the hero tower didn’t

know at all,” Why not? “It’d just be too risky. My family’s got a

reputation I don’t want to break, and I don’t want to look suspicious at

all.” “Alright.” Well, that kind-of made sense. While Taco would

feel more comfortable if Brunel Irekes was supervised, they did not

want anything messing with the results.

So they would not be informing Harmony of their side project.

Not yet, at least.

Part 24

Taco had just wrapped up a particularly large stack of

paperwork when their new watch reminded them that they still had to

eat two hundred more calories before the hour ended. They had gotten

the watch earlier that day, when their dietician had discovered that they

had missed a few meals here or there without their assistant to remind

them. Since then, it had been a major annoyance.

Unfortunately, two hundred missing calories were two

hundred missing calories, and Taco would have to stop at Snail Verde

before returning to their dorm for the night. They didn’t actually like

the Snail Verde food as much as the cafeteria food, but their dietician

had also prohibited them from visiting the cafeteria.

“Hello, how may I help-” Taco glanced up at the employee of

Snail Verde, who had suddenly stopped. It was Sawyer.

“I did not know you worked at Snail Verde.” Then again, Taco

had not often stopped by Snail Verde.

“Oh!” Sawyer glanced down at their uniform, as if checking

the information for themself, “Well, I do. Sorry, I- er- nearly didn’t

even look at your face.” They admitted.

“That is fine.” Taco understood why an indoor food-stand

employee would not look directly at all of their customers.

“What can I get you this fine morning?” Sawyer asked.

“...Morning?” Was it… was it that time already?

“Er…” Sawyer trailed off, eyes wide before laughing

suddenly, “Oh, well, I guess that’s why you weren’t having tea this

morning! I was nearly late waiting for you, you know?” They were?

“Yeah, it’s morning. The Core is just beginning to glow.”

“Oh.” Huh. “Um, one meal exchange, please.” Taco hadn’t

meant to stay up so late. Did that mean that Kay had already been taken

in for questioning? Would she be taken in later?

“A tried-and-true-classic for sure.” Sawyer said, nodding as

they took Taco’s meal card and swiped it through the machine. They

handed back Taco’s meal card and turned around to prepare the meal-

something pre-selected by the university. Taco sat at the table closest to

the counter.

“Any interesting customers at this time of the morning?” At

the very least, Taco had discovered why Sawyer was always awake

before them.

“Not really,” Sawyer informed them, “The occasional super-

athlete, early jogger, or professor grading essays, of course, but by now

their schedules are pretty set.”

“Ah.” Then, Taco coming in really would be a surprise,

“How… are you?” That was a question people asked, wasn’t it?

“Pretty good. It’s easy to space out, now that I know when

everyone’s coming in.” Sawyer turned around, plate of food set, “Well,

save for a little surprise guest.” They winked at Taco, who stood up to

collect the plate, “Free coffee, too, since we don’t have tea and I figure

you could use some caffeine.” Taco stared at the coffee for a moment.

“...I have a dietary tracker.” They said after a minute, a bit

afraid to approach the counter.

“What?” Sawyer quickly glanced at Taco’s wrists, before

recognizing the watch, “Oh. That’s new, right?” Taco nodded, “Damn,

they’re really keeping you on a tight leash, yeah?”

“No?” Taco had never been kept on a leash. Ever, as far as

they were aware.

“Sorry, figure of speech.” Sawyer apologized, moving the

coffee off the counter and giving Taco the courage to reach forward to

take the plate, “Do you want me to portion that out for calories, then?”

“I can do it.” Taco had been portioning their food out since

they had first started at the university.

“Yeah, but do you want me to?” Sawyer asked. Taco blinked.

“...No?” Was that the correct answer? Taco really did not mind

portioning their food. They had long ago memorized the calorie counts

of every portion the university food services could serve them.

“Alright.” Sawyer nodded, and Taco at last grabbed their plate

and sat back down. Sawyer did not turn around, “Alright, I gotta ask

now, do you… do they let you eat the cake?”

“What cake?” Who was ‘they’?

“I mean- when you were younger your birthday parties were

broadcast. My family would watch them all because my older sister had

your birthday, and there was always a massive cake in the middle. Did

they…” Sawyer trailed off, and Taco at last figured out the question

they were being asked.

“Oh. No.” Cake had too many calories. Taco had to take the

first slice of the cake, to announce to everyone that the cake was

available to be eaten, but then they had to give the slice to their

assistant.

“That’s…” Sawyer seemed frankly baffled by the very idea,

“Taco, I don’t think that’s good.”

“I am still a hero, you know?” Taco pointed out, “I was then,

too, and thus I must stay in peak physical condition.” Sawyer frowned,

so Taco added, “I have had chocolate, though.” For some reason, that

often made people feel better about their eating habits. Maybe

chocolate really was as healthy as Melody claimed.

“Oh thank Core.” For a moment, Sawyer seemed relieved,

“Wait… like- regularly? As a gift? Or… when?”

“Well, that depends on what kind of chocolate you are talking

about,” Taco admitted, “I have only had hard chocolate once, when I

snuck a piece off of my birthday cake. I have liquid chocolate on the

first of every month.”

“...Liquid chocolate?” Sawyer seemed profoundly confused.

“Yes. I do not like that, as much. The chili powder is not good

for my stomach.”

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“The chili powder.” Taco clarified.

“Liquid chocolate… chili powder?” Sawyer squinted a bit, and

then shrugged, “Yeah, that sounds crazy enough to be allowed. Though,

if I’m honest, I have seen someone put chili powder in chocolate milk,

so… understandable.”

“Alright.” Perhaps liquid chocolate was not common among

civilians.

“Once a month, though, is…” Sawyer trailed off, “When you

retire, the first thing we’re doing is going to a candy store and I’ll treat

you to a buffett.”

“Alright.” It would not be as important to maintain their

physical condition once they were no longer a hero.

“Well, I-” As Sawyer was about to continue, another customer

walked into Snail Verde, a band around their forehead and covered in

sweat. “One- one meal exchange, please.”

“Of course!” Sawyer turned to the customer, and Taco turned

to their food. If they finished quickly, perhaps they could get a nap in

before their morning classes.

Part 25

“Good evening, Mrs. and Mrs. Price.” Faux-Melody smiled

and shook hands with the Prices. Trusting him to take care of Vivian

Price, Taco quickly stepped aside to speak with Olivia.

“How have you been, T?” She asked easily once they had

moved away from the other two.

“Well, I have been better. My assistant is leaving me, again.”

Taco’s assistant had filed paperwork indicating that they would be

leaving as soon as their contract was terminated, without speaking to

Taco personally.

“Oh? Didn’t Viv inquire after long-term opportunities in their

interview?”

“They did.” Taco confirmed.

“Well, that’s not very nice.” Olivia remarked with a frown.

Chances were, if Taco’s soon-to-be-ex-assistant had left them quickly,

they would leave their next place of employment quickly. If that

happened. Taco would need to back-list them with the major

corporations.

“Did you use the spreadsheet for the decorations this charity

ball?” Olivia asked, glancing around the room.

“My assistant would not let me,” Taco admitted sheepishly,

“They said it wasted too much time.”

“Wow, really? Even though your work directly affects their

paycheck?” Each employee of the Der Verde Hero Office made a small

percentage of the office’s profits, rather than a set hourly wage. It

ensured maximum productivity, and also meant that even a little bit of

work could bring in extra wages.

“In hindsight, they likely made the choice because they knew

they were not going to be my assistant for much longer.”

“I suppose so…” Olivia trailed off, the two of them falling

into a rather heavy silence, “What… I hear Harmony’s getting pretty

close. What are you going to do once you’ve defeated the villains?”

Taco blinked.

“Well, the Der Verde Hero Office will still be responsible for

ensuring the continued welfare of the citizens of Der Verde.” Taco

rather pointedly did not refer to their own plans, as their plan mostly

consisted of getting out of heroism.

“No, not the hero tower,” Unfortunately, Oliva was rather

well-trained in Taco’s attempts to avoid giving an actual answer, “What

are you going to do after you’ve defeated the villains? Fish your degree,

of course, but what are you going to do with your life?” She asked, as

though heroism was not already Taco’s full-time job.

“I do not know. I may take an apprentice, and Melody will

retire sometime afterward.” ‘Some time’ would hopefully be several

years, as Taco’s apprentice would need to have a mentor even after

Taco quit.

“Oh.” That was.. Likely not the answer Olivia had been

looking for. Whether Taco liked it or not, Olivia knew an awful lot

about their life. She had been attending charity ball’s since Taco’s first,

and Charlie Price and Melody had regularly partnered the two children

off together, despite the six-year age gap.

“I… Yeah.” Taco still was not really willing to elaborate.

“...” Olivia took a deep breath, “I’m currently in the market for

a personal assistant.” She said quickly.

“You hate personal assistants.” The only things Olivia

forwarded to other people were phone calls.

“I hate incompetent personal assistants,” she corrected, “I

dislike it when people try to do my job for me, only to submit clearly

inferior work. I won’t have to worry about that with you.”

“What makes you say that?” Not that Taco was not thankful

for the praise, but they were not exactly single-handedly bringing Der

Verde into prosperity.

“Please, a two-percent decrease in decoration prices? I’ve

never been able to get those numbers. Ever.” Two percent was not a lot,

though. Or at least, Taco did not think it was, “If you compare different

products with similar qualities in a similar way, I suspect profit margins

would widen significantly.”

“Your spreadsheet could likely not handle so many variables.”

Similar qualities were not the exact same qualities, and determining

price differences based solely on color was very different from

determining the price difference based on quality, material, durability,

and other variables Taco had barely touched even in their marketing

classes. “So you make a new one. I don’t know if you know this, but

you’re actually remarkably gifted at making new spreadsheets. It’s rare

that I find anyone as proficient in the software as you are. Core- I’m

fairly certain Vivian isn’t quite as skilled as you are.

“I think that might be a little far.” Taco argued. Vivian was

remarkably good at what she did.

“I don’t think it is, actually. Melody undervalues you, T.”

Well, Olivia did not have to put it so bluntly.

Melody undervalued Taco. What did that even mean? That

Melody did not see the value of spreadsheets and miniscule details? Did

it mean that Melody was not quite as appreciative as she should have

been whenever Taco continued their streak of no civilian casualties

during a fight? They were fairly certain that was just the minimum

amount of work they were supposed to put in, though.

“Hm.”

“Viva, the doors are opening.” Fortunately or unfortunately,

Vivian had come to pull Olivia away.

“We can discuss this some more next month, yeah?” Olivia

asked, and Taco nodded.

They were not actually taking any classes for managing the

supply end of a business. If Taco was really going to work under- for-

Olivia, they would probably have to change their major. Considering

Taco had already been signing up for quite a few business classes, they

were finally certain that the change would not be hard. Though working

for one of their closest acquaintances would be strange, Taco could not

simply give up the opportunity to have another job lined up after the

hero tower. Taco took a deep breath and rejoined Faux-Melody.

“You ready to greet the other guests?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Part 26

“Good evening, Brunel Irekes.”

“Hey, Taco,” Brunel Irekes had hurriedly emailed them earlier

in the day stating that he had valuable information on the villains. He

had then refused to elaborate, “Listen- you won’t believe what I’ve

found out I-”

“Just tell me who they are.” Taco was not really in the mood

for Brunel Irekes’ ramblings, particularly when the specific information

he could provide could quite literally shape the course of their entire

life. “Right- uh- '' Brunel Irekes quickly pulled a phone out of his

pocket and scrolled through it, “I took a video. Look at this.” How in

the world had Brunel Irekes managed to get a video of the villains,

particularly something that revealed sensitive information? The hero

office had been trying for years. Taco did not have much more time to

contemplate the turn of events before Brunel Irekes pressed play.

“-ia, you got the goods?” Asked Subcortical. They were in

some kind of warehouse- something dark. Was that mold?

“I don’t know why you insist on being so cryptic.

Detransform, for Core’s sake!” There were two other people in the

room with him- neither were transformed- but Taco could not make out

their facial features.

“Whatever, whatever.” Subcortical transformed in a flash of

light. Taco did not recognize him, “The point is, do you have what I

asked for?”

“A shit ton of sedatives? Yeah, yeah I do. You were literally

there when we stole these.” The villains had attacked the hospital just

two days before. Clearly they had taken more than Taco had suspected.

“Friends, friends, let’s all just take a chill pill.” The third

person finally spoke up. Wait a moment… Taco recognized that voice.

“Easy for you to say, Harmony, you didn’t put yourself down

as a suspect!” Subcortical snapped, “You get to just go about your day

normally while Patricia and I have to deal with constant stalking from

your little agents.” Patricia? Oh thank Core, Cacophony was not Kay,

though Taco did not know why they were so relieved.

“Hey, I couldn’t have them getting suspicious. Might as well

leave the dumb dogs a couple of breadcrumbs.” That metaphor made

absolutely no sense.

“You say that, but just wait until they start to figure out who

you are. “How will you help us then, huh?” Patricia asked, clearly

snappish.

“Well, you’ll just have to make sure you don’t get caught,

won’t you?” The video ended.

“What… what was that?” Taco was honestly a bit shell-

shocked from the sudden influx of information. Just like that?

“I got this from the university’s official cameras. They’ve been

meeting in the basement under the criminal justice building.” The

basement under the criminal justice building? Perhaps Melody’s

ridiculous decision to not put cameras in the University of Der Verde

was finally catching up to her.

“Huh. Who is Subcortical, though?” Taco had not heard his

name. “Daniel. He’s my roommate, and a cyber crime major.” Brunel

Irekes’ roommate? Well, what a cruel twist of fate. At least he was not

any of Taco’s roommates.

“Then it would make sense why he was going into the

building.” If a random civilian walked into one of the campus

buildings, they would likely be stopped and asked to show an ID. Taco

was actually fairly certain that the criminal justice building in particular

had a policy of forcing everyone who was not a student or faculty

member to have a signed permission slip from the head of the

department just to enter. The head of the department being Harmony.

“Yup.” It was rather strange to think about- Taco had been

fighting at least one person their own age for so long. Subcortical’s

relative weakness did make them feel a bit better about their training

regime, though. Even if Melody was not satisfied with Taco’s progress,

at least they were doing better than Subcortical.

“And Patricia?” Taco vaguely remembered the name being in

Harmony’s file of potential suspects, but they did not actually

remember anything about her.

“Another university student studying criminal law. She’s a

graduate student.” Alright, so at the very least Cacophony was not the

same age as taco.

“What does the rest of the footage show?” As much

information as they had just received, Taco was still a bit curious

regarding the footage that Brunel Irekes had supposedly collected.

Surely the villains’ meeting continued, yes?

“Well, basically, they all know that I’m playing Melody and

are hoping to reveal it by having Subcortical put me to sleep and then

giving me a sedative that’ll force me to transform back. Y’know, wreck

the entire economy and send the integrity of the heroic council crashing

down and all that villainous nonsense.”

“What, what?” Revealing that Brunel Irekes was Faux-Melody

would have a vast number of consequences. The people of Der Verde

would likely never trust their heroes again.

“Yeah. So I figured as long as you make sure I don’t fall

asleep next time they attack, I should be fine.”

“No.” That would absolutely not be fine. Even the slightest

threat of Faux-Melody’s identity being revealed had to be absolutely

eliminated. “We need to get the villains before they turn against us. I

can turn the footage in to the police, order them to keep it a secret from

Harmony, and then we can safely apprehend them.

“You really think that the entire police force isn’t in

Harmony’s back pocket?” Brunel Irekes asked, making Taco falter, “If

you really want to get them, you’re going to have to go through

Melody. Get the villains one at a time, make sure they don’t notice the

others disappearing and then turn over the evidence, once the police

know who’s already won. AS a hero, you don’t even really need a

warrant to just kidnap a civilian on the assumption that they’re a villain.

That was a rule that Taco had always particularly despite, but they

supposed it was playing in their favor.

“So we tell Melody? I do not think she will take the news of

Harmony being a villain very well.” According to the stories that

Melody would tell Taco when they were younger, Melody had

practically been raised by Harmony. Their parents had died when

Harmoney was eighteen and Melody was eleven, so Harmony had

picked up two extra jobs to support the family.

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t change the truth. Besides, all we

need is her permission- two registered heroes to sign off on the arrest.

She won’t even have to act.”

“No, I suppose she will not.” Taco sighed, “I will feel a bit bad

for accomplishing her goals while she is out of commission, but Der

Verde cannot bear the villains for another month.”

“No it can not.” Brunel Irekes agreed.

“Wait… does this mean that the villains always knew you

were acting as Melody? Since the beginning?”

“Yup.” So they really had just replaced Melody for civilian

peace of mind. Alright then, “I don’t really know, either. Maybe that’s

why they decided to attack so early on.” It was true that the villains had

attacked the city almost as soon as Brunel Irekes received the Choker of

Control. They had likely not expected him to get ahold of its powers so

fast, and Taco had not either.

“Dischord the one who injured Melody, though.” Did

Harmony know that she would be putting her younger sister out of

commission for three months? Did she expect Melody to simply die?

The thought of Harmony, who had essentially been Taco’s pseudo-aunt

for most of their life, doing something so cruel made their heart ache in

a way they could not recognize.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Even if we get her signature, though, what is our

plan?” How could they make sure that the villains would not notice

their missing teammates? “Missing people are generally reported.”

“Yeah, they are. We could make it look like they left willingly.

There’s a short spring break next week, conveniently enough. Maybe

they all made plans to travel. I can still get into the cameras, so we can

collect more information.”

“So we… figure out a bit more about their personal lives?”

Taco asked, “Could you be the one to focus on that? I am not skilled at

detective work.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Brunel Irekes admitted. Taco

sighed. “Where do we hold them? We have a couple of holding cells,

but they are not reinforced or anything.” Der Verden criminals tended

to serve their sentence in a prison operated by the police force, and

Taco did not yet know which police officers were free from Harmony’s

plots. “That’ll be fine; we can take their magical objects. No object,

no magic, no villain.”

“No villain.” Taco agreed, “Okay, sounds like a plan.” Of

course, it was not anything close to a plan. Taco would need to wait

until Brunel Irekes actually collected any personal information on the

villains before they could start putting together a plan to capture each

villain. Though, in the meantime, they could inform Melody about the

situation.

Oh Core, everything was moving remarkably fast. Taco had

spent fifteen years of their life training to fight villains, not defeat them.

They had done their best to complete the latter, of course, but it always

seemed like an impossible goal. Yet, in just a short while, they would

be… done.

“Sounds like a plan. I already think Daniel can just be

convinced to go to Sol Undra with me for spring break- something

about visiting my parents and seeing the sights with a friend. Not that

we’re friends or anything, but he’d jump at the chance if I just invited

all my roommates.”

“Good. One down then, two to go.”

Part 27

“Ah, good morning. Ariel, correct?” One of Taco’s least

favorite things about changing assistants was the process of interviews.

Taco had managed to narrow down their candidate pool to just a select

few applicants, yet the pressure of defeating the villains left them

exhausted anyway.

“Right. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Well, they were off to a

rather mediocre start. Taco gently closed the door behind Ariel and

pulled out a chair.

“Please, take a seat.” Taco moved to sit behind their desk.

“Thank you.”

“So, what brought you here today?” Taco always liked to start

with vague questions, a smooch of the city saw Taco as a

straightforward and direct hero who preferred facts over fiction. While

that was true, they wanted to see just how entrenched in prejudice each

applicant was.

“Well, the elevator,” Yes, that made sense, “However, I did

walk here on my own two feet, so perhaps I had a hand- or a couple of

feet- in how I arrived here.”

“Wonderful.” It was as though Ariel had replied to the

question of ‘what’s up’ with ‘the Core.’ Brunel Irekes had a tendency to

do that, funnily enough, and it was perhaps Taco’s favorite thing about

him. Well, not that they actually asked him such informal questions, but

they had heard others ask and the response was accurate, “Why would

you like to work at the hero tower?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to work at the hero tower?” Well, there

were plenty of reasons. Taco did not want to work at the hero tower

because they legitimately just did not like the tasks or the environment.

“I suppose you can answer that yourself, can you not?” Taco

wanted to hear all the reasons why Ariel might be hesitant to take the

job. “I suppose the workload might be a little daunting, but I really

enjoy feeling like I’ve helped people in a way, you now?” No, Taco did

not know, but that was because they simply did not enjoy helping

people, at least not directly, “Maybe the biggest reason why I wouldn’t

want to work at the hero tower is, well, the heroes, particularly with this

position. I don’t really know you personally, so being a personal

assistant for you is a bit of a tall order.”

“It is, yes.” None o fTaco’s previous assistants had taken the

time to get to know them, “What do you believe that being a personal

assistant entails?” Interestingly enough, Ariel had never been a personal

assistant before. Taco was not traditionally in the habit of letting people

with no experience reach interviews, but they were being more lenient

considering that they would be retiring fairly soon.

“Well, for other places, probably fetching coffee and things

like that,” All in all, it was not the greatest of opening responses, “But

as the assistant to a hero, you specifically, I think I’d be doing a lot

more work. I’d take your phone calls and plan out your schedule,

obviously. In addition I would write many of your speeches, file

paperwork regarding incident reports, and coordinate with your trainers

to ensure you stay on top of your goals.” Alright, those were all correct

answers.

“Have you ever written and given a speech before?”

“I have, yes.” Oh? Very good, “I was valedictorian of Der

Verde Academy, as you likely saw in my file, and I was also the leader

of the speech and debate team there. I participated in mock trial in

university, so I know a lot about convincing the masses to vote a

specific way or to donate their money to a specific cause.” That was

exactly what the speeches were supposed to do, so it was good that

Ariel had experience in the practice prior to applying.

“Could you tell me about one time when you had a particularly

difficult case?”

“Well, I suppose my most difficult case was one I did in

defense of Wrath.” That was, frankly, and old case with little to no

evidence pointing either way that had been handled almost entirely by

the Keeper and Peirein, “There was virtually nothing to go off of,

except Peirein’s word that Wrath had attacked them, yet I was able to

riddle holes in the prosecution’s evidence until they had no choice but

to drop the case.

“And how did you feel defending someone you knew was

guilty?” Not that Taco believed Wrath was guilty, but most everyone

else did.

“Honestly? Not great, but I did it anyway, because it was my

duty. Besides, it didn’t really have any effect on the real world and I

could impress my friends.” Taco had yet to put together a compilation

of the top turn-offs from their interviews, but that sentence alone would

definitely have made it into the top ten.

Really- just to impress their friends? Taco put a small note

down in red pen on their notes and continued the interview, though they

only stuck to the script. There was no real point in putting effort into an

interview for someone they were not going to hire.

Part 28

Taco simply walked back to the university campus after their

paperwork was completed. With the novelty gone and the streets

packed, there was not much reason to worry that someone would

recognize them and/or crowd them while asking for autographs or

pictures. Really, it was rather relaxing to just walk places, and Taco

took a moment to look around at the city they would one day no longer

be protecting. It seemed a lot smaller than it once had been, though

Taco knew realistically that they had just grown older. They took a

deep breath, faintly smelling something sweet. Perhaps they were next

to one of the farm grainhouses? Taco briefly looked around.

“Hey- uh-” Taco whipped their head around to face the

speaker- was that Audette? “Sorry” The villain- the non-local villain

held a cloth up to Taco’s mouth and nose, and while they struggled a bit

they were unable to combat the black spots in their visions.

What was a member of the Verojas Trio doing in Der Verde?

“Er- you awake, Taco?”

“Hm?” Taco blearily opened their eyes. Had they fallen asleep

in their office, again?

“Oh, cool. Sorry, I probably used a larger dose than I had to.”

A larger… dose? Taco blinked away the fuzz in their vision, realizing

rather suddenly that they were not in the Der Verde Hero Office.

“What do you want from me?” They asked firmly, gazing up

at the only other person in the obnoxiously white room, Audette.

“Well, I’d like to help you.” Audette said with a smile.

“You just knocked me out.” Taco pointed out.

“True, true,” Audette admitted, “But, I gave the order for the

Hand of God to take care of your little villain problem.” Their little…

“You killed the villains?” Taco asked, incredulously. Harmony

was just… dead? Just like that?

“He should have the job done within the hour.” Audette

confirmed, “You’re welcome, by the way. Rumor has it you wanted to

retire.” “Who told you that?” Taco asked, narrowing their eyes.

Audette shrugged.

“A little birdie,” Birds could not talk, “Anyway, I wanted to

help you out. Der Verde is the very last city we need to open a supply

route across the world, so it would be good for both you and us if you’d

be willing to install one of our operatives as a new hero.”

“What makes you think I would be willing to do that?”

“Well,” Audette grinned, “If you don’t, we’ll just kill you, and

probably everyone else in the Der Verde Hero Office, for that matter.”

Everyone else? They would really just…

Who was Taco kidding, it was the Verojas Trio. They had no

qualms with murder. Though…

“Your last city?” Taco asked. As far as they knew, the Verojas

Trio had only conquered Verojas.

“Yes. Including Sol Undra, if that wasn’t clear enough.” Oh.

Taco had assumed, of course, that the Sol Undran ‘heroes’ were still

working for the Verojas Trio, but all of the other heroes, too? That

was… a surprise. Or, not all of the heroes, but at least enough to form a

solid connection between Sol Undra and Verojas.

“So… what?” Taco may have been planning to retire, but they

were not actively against the heroes. At the same time, though, they did

not want everyone in the Der Verde Hero Office to die. “They did not

want to die.

“Egnistell’s gonna place a request to transfer to Der Verde,

and you’re gonna convince the Keeper to let him. Maybe something

about how it’s safer for him here, since there’s less people and every

building is reinforced. Your epic face-down with the villains actually

happened on the university campus, and the footage was lost. You put

the villains into custody at the Pinnacle of the Core, and unfortunately

lost the magical objects. Do you understand?” Taco took a deep breath.

“I… do.” They nodded, “By any chance, would you be willing

to tell me which cities you have not taken?” If Taco had to move out of

Der Verde, they did not want to go straight into the Verojas Trio’s

grasp again. Audette chuckled.

“Well, I’ll put it this way: If you want to avoid the action, it’s

probably best you just head straight to Verojas.” That… oh dear. The

Verojas Trio really was planning on world domination, huh? Taco had

known that, of course, but they had not assumed it would be so soon.

So incredibly soon, “If you really want to skip town, you might want to

retire to Verojas right after Caustel moves in.”

“Noted.” Taco would likely put in an application to transfer to

New Verojas University for data analysis soon, then, “Would you be

able to pull some strings to have me admitted as a sophomore to NVU

for data analysis next year?” Audette stared at them for a moment.

“You…” She squinted, “Um- yeah. Not what I expected, I

guess.” Taco shrugged. They had done a bit of research into the Verojas

Trio’s policies, and had learned that while the villains were morally

reprehensible they were relatively kinder to their citizens than the

heroic council. Given that the heroic council also had a track record of

brutally murdering those who did not conform…

Well. As long as Taco was able to retire, the Verojas Trio

really would not be their problem.

“Is that a yes?” Taco asked.

“Yeah.” Audette nodded, “Er- yes. Just apply, and I’ll let the

school know. I’m fairly certain they have a loose transfer policy,

anyway, but I can do that.”

“Good.” Then Taco would not have much to worry about. The

world would probably always need spreadsheets, regardless of who had

political power.

“Just remember- if you let us down- or tell anyone, even

Melody, we will eliminate you.” Audette threatened. Taco nodded,

“Great. It’s a deal, then. I’ll just- uh- blindfold you and take you back

where we found you, yeah?”

“If it is not a bother, would you mind just taking me back to

the campus?” Taco asked as Audette tied a bandana around their head.

“Sure.”

Part 29

A short moment later, Taco was alone in the common area of

their dorm. They took a deep breath and called their soon-to-be-ex-

assistant.

“Greetings, Taco.” Their assistant picked up at the first dial.

“Greetings.” Taco returned, not sure what time of day it was,

“I… have a development regarding the villains.”

“A development?”

“They have been… handled.”

“What?” Taco flinched at their assistant’s loud exclamation.

“Yes. I am sure you will understand that this situation was…

delicate. Dischord turned out to be Harmony, and thus Mr. Irekes and I

agreed not to involve the Der Verde Hero Office. While all three

villains are now in custody at the Pinnacle of the Core, you must inform

the Keeper that the three were not in possession of their magical objects

when they were taken in, and that I suspect they were contacted by the

Verojas Trio.” Hopefully that hint would be enough, and the Keeper

would know what they meant.

“I will do such now, and begin drafting a speech,” Taco’s

assistant informed them, “While I am glad that explains why you have

not been picking up this afternoon, I’m afraid I have news for you as

well.” “Oh?” News?

“Yes. Unfortunately, during physical therapy, Melody

attempted to improperly weight lift and ended up breaking her neck.”

“She what?” Melody had broken her neck.

“She passed away at 2:14 this afternoon. I’m sorry for your

loss.” She… What? Melody had… Melody could not just die. She

had always been obsessed with dying on the battlefield, in a burst of

glory, or as a prisoner, defiant. To be dead…

“I… see.” Surely Taco’s assistant was lying, or something?

“Please… please add to the speech that I wish to retire as well.”

“Very well then.” Taco’s assistant did not sound as surprised

as they perhaps ought to have been, “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” Taco hung up. It felt… finite. Like an ending,

though that hardly made sense. They still had to give that speech,

afterall, and probably show Egnistell around the Der Verde Hero

Office. Taco leaned back on their beanbag, electing to close their eyes

for a moment.

“Hey, Taco. You doing okay?” Taco slowly opened their eyes

to look at Sawyer, and sighed.

“No.” Taco sat back up, “I’m transferring to NVU.”

“NV-” Sawyer blinked, and sat down on their own beanbag,

“Alright, I’m willing to put my application there too, so we can still be

roommates, but you’re gonna have to explain it to me from the

beginning.” From the beginning? Where… where even was the

beginning, though?

“I think Melody’s dead.” Taco admitted, “She- like- I don’t- “

Melody could not be dead, but at the same time she was.

“Are you willing to tell me how?” Sawyer asked. Taco slowly

shook their head, “Alright, then. If you’re going to Verojas and Melody

is… who’s going to be Der Verde’s hero?”

“Der Verde no longer needs a hero,” Taco probably could not

just tell Sawyer that Egnistell was planning to transfer, especially since

Egnistell himself had not even reached out yet, “The villains are in

custody at the Pinnacle of the Core.”

“They- really?” Sawyer seemed utterly baffled, “Well, that’s a

development.” Taco shrugged.

“Everything has been leading up to it, really. It was a careful

situation, so I only just called to tell my assistant the news. They had

some connections with the police force and the hero office, so…”

“So you couldn’t tell anyone.” Sawyer finished, “And so

you’re retiring? And moving to Verojas. Why Verojas?”

“Just…” Taco trailed off, glancing at the closed door and

choosing not to mention the Verojas Trio, anyway, “It would be safer

for me.” Sawyer nodded empathetically, as though they understood the

situation.

“Because you’re retiring, and civilians don’t like that.” They

concluded, incorrectly, “Well, I guess that makes sense.” Sawyer

shrugged, “In any case, there’s probably just as much political

journalism to do there, so I don’t care. I really only moved to Der

Verde because-” They stopped themself.

“Because?” Taco had only recently learned that Sawyer had

grown up in Sol Undra.

“Because… journalism stuff.” Sawyer finished lamely, “Yeah.

I- er- guess I was interested in the heroes, here, but if Melody’s… and

you’re retiring, then I don’t need to stick around for whoever the

Keeper replaces you two with.”

“You came here for… the heroes?” Huh. Taco was fairly

certain that Sol Undra had more interesting heroes, but alright.

“Yes.” Sawyer confirmed, “Yes, I did. Might as well follow

one of em, right?”

“I am… not going to be a hero?” Taco was planning on

retiring, not transfering. Besides, there were no heroes in New Verojas,

unless you counted the Verojas Trio.

“Naw, but you’re still interesting. Even moreso, now that I

know you.” Huh.

“I do not think I know you, though.” It made sense, given that

Sawyer was training to be an investigative journalist and Taco was not

very good at investigations, that Sawyer would learn more about Taco

then Taco knew about them, but it was strange.

“Maybe that’s the point.” Sawyer said with a wink, “Anyway,

yeah, I’ll apply to Verojas and let Emilio know. He’ll probably stay

here to hang with his girlfriend, but whatever.”

“...Thank you.”

Part 30

“Good morning, Der Verde,” Taco sat comfortably on their

beanbag, cup of tea in their hands as they watched the livestream, “I am

your hero, Egnistell.”

“Who the fuck is their assistant?” Sawyer asked, comfortably

seated on the same beanbag, next to Taco, who shrugged.

“I do not know who they are, just that they are not very

skilled.” Taco said. Egnistell’s speeches had always been… lacking,

which was likely a combination of his undefined heroic character and

his assistant’s incompetence.

“So, um, first-things-first, I know everyone’s concerned about

the situation with Midomous, Amaro, Dilawim, and Gular. Well, I’m

here to say that you don’t have to panic. New Verojas will not be taking

us by force, because I have successfully reached a peace treaty with

them. We will be unofficially adopting some of their policies and

providing safe transport through the city, and we will be protected. I

have the details up on the official website. We are not leaving the

heroic council; we will instead be serving as a buffer between New

Verojas and the heroic council.”

“So they’re joining New Verojas.” Sawyer summarized,

“They’re softly joining New Verojas until the public agrees.”

“You are not as surprised as I thought you would be.” Taco

admitted. Sawyer turned to look at them.

“I live in New Verojas now, it’s not that hard to figure out.

When you said the magical objects were lost and Egnistell was the new

hero? Yeah, I figured the Verojas Trio had already taken over.”

“They took Midomous last June,” Taco revealed, “They have

just been waiting around for the power to be fully transferred to

Egnistell.” It had taken a while for Mr. Kraas’ contract to end, even

after Melody’s death.

“Well, that’s world domination for you.” Sawyer said with a

shrug. “That’s world domination for you.” Taco echoed, taking a sip

of tea. Regardless, their new career path would not shift much. Taco

was no longer obligated to care about world domination.

So they didn’t.