Chapter 157

  Alexander flew across the night sky, New York City sprawling beneath him in a grid of lights and shadows. The meeting with the Doorman had been productive. But he hadn’t really considered the time difference before setting out, and now he had time before his unscheduled appointment with the lawyer.

  If New York were anything like the cities of the West Coast, there would be nightly superhero engagements. Finding a local who could point him in the right direction was a lucky encounter.

  The Scar. Cool name, though it suggested something excessively violent. Perhaps something permanent.

  He reached out across the bond to Droney. The drone responded immediately, a familiar presence at the edge of his awareness.

  “Pull up information on the Scar in New York,” Alexander said aloud.

  Droney beeped an acknowledgment. Information flowed across their connection. Alexander allowed it to filter through his power and into his thoughts. A local news article appeared in his mind’s eye.

  The Scar: A Permanent Reminder of Superhuman Conflict

  The Scar is an area of the South Bronx that was destroyed several years ago when Resonance, leader of the Paragon Society, clashed with the leader of Relicat, a gang that operates throughout New York. Resonance’s devastating Harmonic Manipulation abilities met the spatial-warping powers of Relicat’s leader in what witnesses described as a catastrophic engagement.

  Encounters between these two groups were regular occurrences until one day when both leaders, according to some sources, achieved what superhumans refer to as Tier 3. The result was widespread destruction and loss of life.

  Alexander paused, frowning. He sent another query to Droney, who responded by pulling up casualty figures.

  The numbers made his stomach turn. Approximately eleven thousand dead. Official records were sparse, but independent sources had compiled estimates based on missing person reports and census data.

  He continued reading the article.

  Unconfirmed reports claim that the leader of Relicat died at the scene. Meanwhile, Resonance survived with severe injuries. Since the incident, Resonance has stepped back from active leadership of the Paragon Society, making only rare media appearances.

  Superhero Brick has taken over day-to-day operations of the Paragon Society, and under his excellent leadership, the guild has grown four-fold since, marking them as the largest and most successful guild in the American District, rivaled only by the steadily rising Throne of Scales guild, led by Maximilian de Castillo out of Los Angeles.

  Alexander had to pause. Not at the unexpected mention of Maximilian, but at the poor guy being called ‘Brick.’ Also, the Paragon Society sounded like the obvious antagonistic plot twist of a low-budget holo-drama.

  He kept reading.

  Of course, the Scar remains a permanent disfigurement on beautiful New York. It has become a major talking point for every election, with promises to see it rebuilt inevitably broken. Several gangs have since moved into the fifteen square blocks of abandoned and ruined South Bronx residentials, prompting nightly conflicts with many of New York’s superhero guilds. Notably, the Paragon Society has avoided the area since, having shifted their focus to the more upscale districts of New York instead.

  Alexander dismissed the information. With a thought, he pulled up the System interface and called Talia.

  He wondered what would happen if he tried calling Julia, likely still on the Nexus. It would have been impossible using the implants and Earth-based networks, but the System didn’t seem to care about such limitations. Something to test later.

  Talia answered on the second ring. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah, all good,” Alexander said. “Just checking out this place called the Scar while I have some free time.”

  Talia groaned audibly. “To answer your earlier question, Alex, yes, you are predictable. You’re going to get yourself mixed up in something before even meeting with the lawyer, aren’t you?”

  Alexander chuckled. “I need you to investigate the Scar and the incident that caused it. I have a feeling there’s something weird about the story, but I lack your skill at reading between the lines of a sanitized narrative.”

  “I already know all about it. Let me dive into the recollection,” Talia said. Then she clicked her tongue. “Looks like Resonance might be suffering ongoing effects from the battle. Prior to the incident, his public appearance rate was roughly three times per week, which dropped to once every four months in the aftermath. Averaging twice a year since.”

  Alexander nodded to himself, rotating in the air to look at the stars as he flew. The city lights made them harder to see, but a few bright points still pierced through.

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  “Also,” Talia continued, “something odd. I’m only finding redacted cause of death certificates for those who died during the incident. That’s highly unusual.”

  “Which means the obvious assumption is that AEGIS covered up who actually killed them and blamed it on the leader of Relicat,” Alexander said. “I bet Resonance microwaved everyone. That’s why the buildings are still relatively intact. Spatial warping would have left more destruction.”

  “That is the likely conclusion,” Talia agreed. A pause stretched between them. “Alex, do not go picking fights with guilds in New York while you’re alone.”

  “What? No, I’m just curious. I’ll behave. Just want to know what the heroes and villains are like out this way.”

  Talia’s voice went flat. “They’re exactly like the heroes and villains everywhere. Do I need to send Augustus and Annie as chaperones?”

  Alexander laughed. “No, seriously, I’m just curious.”

  Silence.

  “Fine,” Talia said finally. “Need anything else?”

  “Nope. Thanks for the intel.”

  He cut the call.

  Eleven thousand people dead. Resonance’s Harmonic Manipulation would have vibrated them apart while the buildings remained standing. A convenient narrative blamed it all on a dead gang leader who couldn’t defend himself. Not that Alexander had any illusions about the gangs. It was safe to assume they were as bad as one would expect. It was the whitewashing he despised.

  The streetlights and nightlife ended abruptly, an ominous darkness swallowing the city ahead.

  Alexander focused.

  The Scar.

  Fifteen blocks of ruined buildings and broken lives, left to rot because rebuilding cost too much or mattered too little. Or, just maybe… because it provided enough cover for the gangs and guilds to play away from the populated areas of New York.

  Alexander descended lower, following the city streets below. He slowed enough for the drones to spread out ahead of him, scanning and mapping the abandoned buildings.

  Droney commanded the other drones to switch to full scanning mode.

  Alexander tended to use the drones’ more basic visual scanning for his needs, relying more on his own ability to detect electrical signals and metal. The energy demands of multi-spectrum scanning meant they needed to be topped up more often, and that they had to move at roughly forty percent of their maximum speeds to get proper readings.

  He drew on Technopathy, Electrokinesis, and Metallokinesis, feeding them into his Core where they synergized and fused, then pushed the combined power outward, casting a wide net over the city below. The ruins lit up as his senses washed over them.

  Things were not entirely as they seemed.

  The ruined buildings were as they appeared, but that hadn’t kept people from moving in. He picked up hundreds of amateurish taps, drawing on the city’s power grid, powering thousands of appliances. Over a thousand bioelectrical signatures lit up, hidden to the naked eye, but spread across the Scar nonetheless.

  And almost a third of them were superhuman. Barely, but they were.

  Alexander frowned. He hadn’t seen such a ratio of superhuman to human anywhere else, except Astra Omnia. But the Scar was no tourist trap.

  On a whim, he fed Animachina into his Core, alongside the other powers, merging all four together into one. He’d long wondered if Animachina would give him any further insight into what his senses returned, and he wasn’t disappointed.

  It revealed nothing new about the humans hidden below. The superhumans were another matter. It was subtle, and he doubted he’d have noticed if not for having such a large sample size to test it against.

  Among the superhumans, some felt more… whole. Complete. Full. Dense.

  He struggled to find the right word. Then it hit him.

  They felt more real to his senses.

  And that bothered him more than he could explain. He regularly, consciously reminded himself not to call people normal or mundane. Not to think of superhumans as better.

  Yet, now, even his own powers were making him feel the difference. And no longer just between human and superhuman. Now there was apparently a qualitative difference between being superhuman by attribute alone and superhuman with powers.

  Because that was undeniably the difference. Animachina classified the sensation in his mind without his approval or input.

  The truth was the truth. Even if he didn’t like it.

  Alexander didn’t know what to do with his new knowledge, so he set it aside, instead focusing on the circumstances of the people below.

  There were a few scenarios he could think of.

  First, they were all members of the gangs. Perhaps family. And this part of the city provided them with easy cover and plentiful hideouts.

  Second, they had nowhere else to go. People down on their luck, living in poverty, and taking advantage of what had previously been abandoned to make a life for themselves.

  Alexander frowned.

  Third. The Scar was a known location for superheroes and villains to clash. It had been made clear to everyone by the System that proximity was a means to awaken. And either through cost or artificial scarcity resulting from the government and mega-corps withholding the serum, people were willing to risk their lives for any chance at becoming part of the ‘one percenters’ of a new age.

  Of course, he was simplifying. There was no doubt the people living in the Scar had their own reasons, perhaps even many he was overlooking, but there was no denying the results.

  Either he was looking at a hidden pocket of weak superhuman gang members… or he was witnessing a facet of their new reality.

  Storm chasers. Except they were after something much more tangible.

  Something they wouldn’t even realize they had, because the System did not announce when you gained a power. That required either a technological reading or demonstrating it yourself.

  How many of them would die from getting too close? There were safer ways to awaken.

  Except, he realized abruptly, there weren’t. Not for everyone. Clearly not for them. They had no access to the serum. No access to hotspots where superhumans gathered, like Astra Omnia.

  For the people living below and waiting for their own power, in the ruins of what should have been one of the most horrific incidents in mankind’s history, the risk was worth everything.

  Including their lives.

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