“…on April 3rd, you exited a Fracture bringing traces of Sarin Gas, one of the deadliest chemical weapons onto American soil!”

  Another day, another hearing. I stand behind this table and listen to an old man berate me for every single failure. I can’t say I blame him. I have plenty to choose from. Though, not all of my “failures” are even failures, merely realities of fightning monsters. Like this one.

  “Well, Mr. Ryans? What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “No, Senator Redding. I did not bring chemical weapons onto American soil.”

  Before this experience, I would’ve tried to offer more context, perhaps explain about where the traces came from. What I did afterwards. Not anymore. I answer the question I was asked and nothing more.

  “Well, Mr. Ryans, then how did traces of Sarin gas exit the Fracture if you did not bring it with you?”

  “They came from the remnants of the monsters I fought inside the Fracture. The boss monster was an animated mixture of many toxic chemicals. Sarin gas was one of them.”

  “So you brought parts of an extremely lethal and toxic monster out of the Fracture with you?”

  “No, Senator. I was covered in its remains. I killed it explosively.”

  I’m thankful for my inhuman ability to multi-task once again. I think I’d die of boredom if I had to only focus here. Endlessly browsing social media might sound like an equally miserable time, but for once, it’s not. It’s reminder of why I push myself so hard. Why I never give up. And why I shouldn’t let the Senator break me.

  Countless images of devastation and carnage litter the internet. It was never hard to find horrific scenes of death before, but now it’s become the norm. How could it not? New York, the largest city in America, one of the largest in the world burned.

  The fact we held it as well as we did was a miracle. I might have broken into things I shouldn’t have, but it was the right thing to do.

  Still, despite my hatred for the Senator, he’s not entirely wrong. And it’s those points that stick with me.

  “Tell us, Lieutenant McKinley, why did you let pilots drop Mr. Ryans here like a bomb on an American city?”

  “Senator Redding, the tactical situation on the ground meant that deploying Machina—”

  “Mr. Ryans, you mean?”

  “Yes sir. Seth Ryans, now going by Machina. Deploying him in the way that we did was the best possible option, sir.”

  “The best possible option meant two collapsed apartment buildings, a completely destroyed road, and millions in damage to public grounds? Likely permanent damage was done to a beloved park!”

  “Yes, sir. It was the best possible option.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “We’re lucky Mr. Ryans here hasn’t killed anyone. Did you even bother to check if there was anyone in the blast zone? Did you even know the kind damage you’d cause?”

  “No, sir.” I mutter reluctantly.

  He scoffs.

  “I thought not. You’re nothing more than a child with more power than sense. It’s time for you to learn how the world works. Don’t worry, I’m more than happy to teach you.”

  I find myself along the Potomac again, looking out over the calm river. Though, I can’t say it’s particularly calming. The world is still falling apart in real time, and the powers-that-be keep me here pointlessly, self-destructively. Thor’s words echo in my head.

  ’*…To control you, to tell you what to do is to give them a moment of respite. A feeling that maybe the world they’re used to can still be recovered.’

  I want to walk away from this. This pointless venture to assuage the fears of an old man stuck in the past. But to do so could be catastrophic. I only have to look at South Korea to see what could happen. The news paints a grim picture.

  “Fighting is still fierce in Seoul as the civil war rages on into the second day. Corporate Conglomerate forces, made from a loose alliances of mega corporations still holds most of the city, but government forces are fightning back…”

  The 5- Star earth manipulator Yangsan caused the collapse of several skyscrapers, and the Korean Parliament tried to bring him in for questioning. Much like how Redding has done to me. He refused, unlike me. Others have taken note.

  With the government weakened by the lack of high-Starred Empowered, the mega corporations that wield immense power decided they wanted more. They bit off more than they could chew, though. And now the nation has collapsed into violence, with Republic forces barely holding on. They’ve barely kept up the fight even as mercenary Empowered, hired by the Conglomerate flood into the embattled country.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “*Yangsan has publicly declared Yeongnam Province to be under his personal protection, as the government is unable to defend them from the threats that loom over the world.”

  And of course, the Korean government accepted Yangsan’s demands. What other option did they have? He’s a 5-Star earth manipulator, able to rip apart entire skyscrapers with a thought. They have their hands full with the Conglomerate as is. They can’t afford to open a front against an individual they don’t even have the firepower to hurt.

  All it took for a nation to collapse was one man saying “No, you can’t control me.” What will happen if I do the same? If I just walk away from this pointless and self destructive hearing? Will America suffer the same fate?

  There’s plenty of mega-corporations with the funds to hire as many Empowered as they want. The devastation they could cause would be immense. What happens when everyone turns their eyes from the Fractures and the horrors they produce?

  I internally shudder at the thought.

  Oceans of blood, spilled for what?

  The hearing continues into the third day, and Redding has switched targets. Now it’s Morgan’s turn in the hot seat. She handles it better than I did, though I wouldn’t say it’s with more grace.

  “Ms. Buchanan, you tore up the entirety of a major avenue in New York! It’ll take hundreds of thousands of dollars of taxpayer money to fix!”

  Senator Redding sure seems to like to fight for the taxpayer’s money. He seems to care more for their money than their lives. Never a note about the lives we saved because of the collateral damage.

  “Yes, Senator, I tore up a road. By doing so I was able to hold a wave of monsters at bay. Do you have a problem with saving lives, Senator?”

  Unlike the rest of us, Morgan is far more combative with Redding.

  “I’m the one asking questions here, Ms. Buchanan, not you.”

  Don’t worry, Senator. We all know the answer to that question.

  I carefully leave the Capitol Building, others in tow, after another long day of pointless questioning that simply goes around and around in circles. Redding must have asked the same question ten times by now.

  It doesn’t take us long to be ambushed by a dozen reporters. They point cameras at us, yelling their questions.

  “Machina, how do you feel about having all your hard work spat on?”

  Some are on our side.

  “Mr. Ryans, what do you plan to do about the apartment buildings you destroyed? Dozens of families are now homeless because of your wanton actions!”

  Others, not so much. I try not to let it get to me, but it still stings. All I do, some find reason to hate anyway.

  A small comfort is the military is sticking up for me. General Briggs was interviewed just yesterday about the Second Battle for New York, and he had nothing but glowing things to say.

  “Machina was critical in the National Guard’s efforts to defend the city. Without him, the city would have been lost for sure. We were completely unable to coordinate, given the extremely chaotic situation. Our satellites were overloaded, and Jovian refused to give us emergency access. True, he did hack into military channels. But I would’ve given him access anyway.

  “As for ordering units around? No, he was just repeating my orders or orders of others. He wasn’t anything more than a phone line operator.”

  It feels so small, all of it. The hearing, the clamoring reporters, the vitriol, the support. It’s screaming into a void filled with monsters. The world is burning down in real time, and we are, arguing over the cost of war. Because we are at war, a war against the dark. Against monsters, against chaos.

  I’m stuck. To leave is to maybe tip another country over the brink. I don’t want to be a ruler. I don’t want to be a tyrant, as much as Redding likes to paint me as one. I don’t want to decide to only help some people, and not others. If people are suffering, I want to do something about it, no matter where they live.

  But if I stay here, held down by a system that seems to not care about the people it’s supposed to protect? How many people will die? How many Fractures will rupture that I could have cleared?

  Even a single death would be too many, but how many more would I cause otherwise? Everyone wants power until they realize the responsibility that comes with it. To hold lives in the palm of your hand is the greatest weight anyone could bear. I pray that I’m strong enough, but I’m afraid that I’m not.

  I leave the Capitol Building in silence. Morgan fields the questions like a natural, deflecting tough ones and answering easy ones. It’s times like these I’m happy to have Morgan around. Though honestly, I’m always happy when she’s around. It’s nice to have friends, to have someone who understands what it means to be an Ascended.

  Friendship is hard, and infinitely more so when everyone around nearly worships you as a hero of the ages. Even when Callisto tries to act nonchalant around me, there’s still a glimmer of faith in her eyes. That when I’m around, everything will be alright.

  I’d like to think we’re friends, but I’m not sure that’s the case, not in the same way most people would define ‘friends.’ But it’s different with Morgan. She’s a peer, truly. Someone who understands what it means to be put on a pedestal by everyone else around us.

  I’m glad Morgan is dealing with the reporters, I certainly can’t. I can tell it takes a toll on her, because as soon as we leave them behind, her shoulders sag. The easy-going, charismatic smile melts like ice on a summer day. She even lands on the ground, her boots softly clicking on the concrete. The weight of the world crushes her, like it does me.

  We walk in comfortable silence for a few moments, before I speak up.

  “Thank you, Morgan.”

  “For what?”

  “For talking to the reporters. I… don’t think I can, really.”

  She gives me a short lived megawatt smile.

  “I was taught how back when my family wanted me to be the heiress to the businesses. Might as well use it for something good, right?”

  It’s not long before we finally make it back to the Pineapple Express, where I’ve been staying. Senator Redding has done his best to cut me off from the National Guard, though he even has limits, I suppose. I have no where else to go.

  I’m technically homeless, I guess. Something like that should concern me, but it doesn’t. A new mentality, evoked by my new form, or something else? I cut that thread off. I’m indestructible. Who needs a house when I can fist fight a tornado and win?

  “Mach? Can I ask you a question?”

  “Hm? Oh, of course.”

  “When I Ascended, the powers I gained let me fill out my dreams in a way I never could before. What about you? Did your powers let you live out a dream?”

  I look down at my gauntleted hands, and bring one up to my faceplate.

  “I think so. Maybe.”

  “What did you want?”

  “The power to live up to an impossible legacy.”