“After finding out about my mother’s involvement, I sort of fell into a trance,” I explain to the softened gazes of Allacia and Elias as the three of us sit in their apartment, “Everything before then had been blow after blow, but that revelation was what finally broke me.

  “After crying to myself for a while, I went into the Politician job almost no longer caring about the reapers. Whenever I thought of them, it was always what to do about it, how to fix it, how to learn more. If I thought at all about how I felt, it was usually because I was explaining my opposition stance. I’m not sure I ever gave myself time to process.

  “So everything was all bottled up, especially because I was lying to you two, and I think that more and more anger has been bubbling to the surface because of it. When I fought Jonathan just now, I should have been afraid. Instead, I just felt angry.

  “If you’ll allow me to be just a bit selfish, I think I’m glad you know now. Even if it puts you in danger. At least, now there’s someone—no, two people—who I can tell anything. I’m glad there’s someone who knows who I can also fully trust. It’s liberating.”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s selfish at all,” Allacia proudly proclaims, “We want to be there for you, right, babe?”

  “Of course,” Elias agrees, “and, for what it’s worth, I hope you remember we sought this out ourselves. You’ve put us in no more danger than we put ourselves into. Have some faith; we’re heroes too, you know.”

  I smile gratefully at them, “Thanks, you two. I hope you mean that, because I’m definitely going to start complaining nonstop about being a reaper,” I joke. Elias chuckles, and Allacia smiles weakly.

  “For the record, you should probably also talk to your mom,” Allacia tells me.

  I shake my head furiously, “No way. She’s been keeping such a major secret from me for my entire life, I can’t trust her any more than I could Jonathan.”

  “You kept this a secret from us,” Elias points out.

  “That’s different, I wanted to-”

  “Protect us?” Allacia finishes, “Charlie, what makes you think she wasn’t doing the same exact thing? It’s a mother’s job, after all.”

  “I-” I try to argue, but can’t find the words, “Okay, sure, but she still didn’t do anything while I was sent off to the middle of nowhere.”

  “It was the middle of the night,” Elias points out, “I doubt she was even told until you were long gone. Besides, do you really think she had the power to go against Jonathan? I can agree that she’s more involved than I’d like, but she’s no Upper Council. I doubt she could do much at all, and, for all you know, she still tried.”

  “Maybe, but she’s still been hiding info about my father,” I press, feeling myself losing.

  “She has,” Allacia relents, “but I’m sure she has a reason for that too. Ultimately, she’s still the only one who knows the whole story there, and the only way you can learn it is by asking her. In other words, you two still need to talk.”

  I sigh, “You two and your good points.”

  “Our greatest quality,” Allacia jokes back, instantly lightening the mood in the room. Capitalizing on this, Elias smiles an evil grin.

  “So…you and that villain—what did you say her name was? Rowan?” he prompts, “What’s going on there? I want details.”

  “I-I don’t know what you mean,” I lie, suddenly feeling a little warm.

  “Oh, come on,” Elias pushes, still smiling, “You all but admitted there was something there. After learning of the true nature of hero/villain fights, you suddenly want to continue being her nemesis, purely for her sake? That totally has nothing to do with her being cute—not at all. Come on, it’s been nearly a year since Darya, you have to have at least considered it.” Allacia leans in, suddenly interested. I get a little warmer.

  “Well, would you look at the time!” I abruptly stand. “I should really be going! I still need to have a very awkward conversation with my mother, after all! It’s been nice seeing you!”

  “Run all you like; there’s no hiding from the truth,” Elias says ominously, still grinning like a madman. Allacia chuckles, standing to follow me as I leave. I hurriedly stride to the door, opening it. Just before I can leave, though, Allacia catches my attention.

  “Hey, Char?” she whispers to me, “I just wanted to remind you: we’re always here for you. All jokes aside, you can talk to us any time. I know Elias feels the same.”

  I smile gratefully, “I know. Thanks, Allacia.”

  She smiles back. I wave goodbye, she does as well. Then, finally, I close the door to my best friends’ apartment. I sigh in contentment as I lean back against the wall beside their door. My wind is whirling, yet calmer than it was before. I feel a lot better.

  “Where to next, miss?”

  I jump in surprise as a voice right beside me startles me. Whipping my head around, I see the infuriatingly calm face of Multishot, standing in the hall.

  “Holy fuck!” I exclaim, “Why are you still here?”

  “I was instructed to escort you home,” Multishot explains, “Seeing as you do not live here at the headquarters like many of your colleagues, my job is not yet done.”

  “That’s…incredibly creepy,” I say, perhaps a little too candidly.

  “Be that as it may, miss, I still intend to complete my task,” Multishot replies with a smile. I’d been beginning to think he was the most normal reaper I’d met so far; today sure has proven me wrong on that front.

  “Sure, sure,” I brush him off. Considering for a moment, I’m not actually sure where I want to go. I said I’d return home, but mom probably won’t be back for a while yet anyway. Is there anywhere else I could stop by? Perhaps…

  “Hey, Multishot, do you happen to know where Rowan lives? Rowan Ward?” I ask, just in case he actually does.

  “I do not, miss, but I can find out. Would you like me to?” Multishot asks candidly, acting even more polite and respectful than usual.

  “You know what? Why not,” I express, “I might as well say hi.”

  —

  An inconspicuous pigeon flutters up the stairs of an apartment complex quite a bit out of the way from the Bowl. Turns out, Multishot’s idea of ‘find out’ was really just ‘ask the Birdkeeper,’ but I have to admit it’s effective. As him and I follow the bird, I see it land in front of a door just ahead. It seems we’ve arrived at our destination.

  I slow as I finally summit the stairs and walk over to the door. The helpful little bird flutters off, its job done—though not before Multishot hands it a few seeds. We certainly can’t let the poor guy do all this work for nothing. Multishot keeps a careful distance back as I summon up my courage and knock on the door.

  Nothing happens—at least, for a few heartbeats. However, just as I begin to suspect that nobody will answer, I see the knob begin to turn.

  Then my danger sense explodes.

  I leap backwards, my hair standing on end like a cornered alley cat, as the door opens. Behind it is a burly woman who already looks intimidating enough, but her presence is something else. It feels like facing Jonathan, except a million times worse. Every inch of my boosted instincts from Superhuman warns me that one wrong step means I’m dead.

  Then the woman sighs.

  Instantly, the pressure fades to normal levels—she still feels strong, but no longer does she seem hostile in any way. In fact, judging from her expression, she seems…resigned, somehow.

  “Put that away, Julian. You know it changes nothing anyway,” she says with exasperation. I whip around to notice Multishot has a gun—one I didn't even know he had, much less heard him draw—in his hand, pointed right at the woman.

  “I will once I can be sure you will not hurt my charge,” he says mildly.

  “That depends on why she’s here,” the woman says, turning to me, “Well?”

  “I-I’m sorry, ma’am, I think I might be a little lost,” I stammer out, still shaken, “I’m looking for Rowan? Rowan Ward?”

  The woman sighs again, “No, you’re in the right place. Her hero friend, right?”

  I nod.

  “Not sure why you’re here, but Rowan isn’t,” the woman explains, “I’ll tell her you stopped by—but next time, text ahead. It’s just good manners.”

  I nod vigorously. The woman gives me a good look, then shuts the door in my face without another word. Instantly, I let out the breath I’d been holding. I had not expected such an encounter so soon after dealing with Jonathan—I was not prepared.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Who was that?" I ask, turning to Multishot as he holsters his gun, “You seemed to know each other.”

  “Latasha Thorton,” he replies, “Also known by her codename: Rhea. Former villain, current damned, and one of the most dangerous people in the USC. Additionally, she happens to be your friend’s ‘backer,’ so to speak.”

  “Oh,” I say, suddenly remembering where I heard the name, “Rowan, uh…mentioned her once. When we first met. Even Jonathan seemed cautious. I think I see why now.”

  “To my knowledge, you have not yet seen the full brunt of either’s strength,” Multishot grimaces, “Though I will admit that was far from a pleasant encounter.”

  “You can say that again,” I agree heartily.

  —

  Following my disastrous attempt to visit Rowan, I finally decide to head back home. Multishot drops me off in the grey minivan around an hour later, letting me off in the driveway up to my house. I ask him to stay a little bit; he only nods. We both know there’s little chance of my staying any longer than I have to at this place.

  It truly is a monstrosity, when I think about it. Three stories tall, covering nearly a full acre of space, the modernist style behemoth absolutely dominates the hillside it stands on. With a massive window covering the front, enough garage space for six cars despite only one of us driving, and my childhood room being more impressive than most homes’ master bedrooms, it’s frankly a wonder I’d never questioned it before.

  My mother—and, by extension , my family—was not treated so well just because she’s a colonel, nor because of my father's sacrifice. No, the only explanation that makes any sense is her involvement in the reapers, and, by extension, the dangerous secrets she knows.

  Despite my fond memories of the place, now I just feel sick looking at it.

  Still, I steel myself and begin walking up the driveway towards it. Whatever my feelings may be, I can’t avoid returning here. Like Allacia said, I owe my mother a chance to explain herself, if only one. Besides, all my stuff's in there.

  So I trudge up the front steps, slipping the backup key out from under the welcome mat and inserting it into the lock. To my surprise, however, no click sounds as the key turns—the door was already unlocked. I slip the key back under the mat and, with bated breath, push the door open.

  I find my other sitting at the kitchen counter, still in her uniform, nursing a slightly steaming cup of tea in her hands. She looks up at me as I walk in. Her eyes light up, but then she grimaces, seeing my expression.

  “Hello, mother,” I say curtly.

  “Welcome back, Charlie,” she says with a sad smile, “I hope you’ve been…well.”

  “Expecting my return?” I ask, ignoring the implied question.

  “I-” she looks down at her cup, “You know there wasn’t anything I could do. I didn’t like it, but-”

  “No, I don’t,” I shoot back, “I don’t know anything. That’s the only reason I’m here—well, aside from getting my stuff. Allacia said I should give you a chance to explain, and so I am. Well? Are there any more secrets you want to tell me? I’m all ears here.”

  “Allacia. Such a kind girl, I’m so glad you two are friends. She’s really been a positive influence on you for so many years,” my mother starts to say.

  “No avoiding the question,” I growl, “I’m only giving you this one chance. If I have to find out more about my father, and your role in all this all on my own, then fine, but I won’t stick around if you keep acting like it’s okay to lie to me. Not anymore.”

  “Charlie, there are just things you don’t tell a child-”

  “This isn’t Santa Claus,” I retort, “or the birds and the bees. And regardless, I’m hardly a child anymore. You could have just told me when I got older.”

  “Charlie!” my mother shouts, indignant, “It was a state secret! You can't seriously have expected me to break the law to tell you something you didn’t need to know.”

  “Like I wasn't always going to have found out anyway,” I reply, “You do know that they tell the upper echelons of the heroes, right? Someday I would've found out, even if they had any problems with you telling me which—given what I know about your status—I’d be surprised if they did.”

  “You overestimate my position,” she expresses. I sigh, feeling like I’m about to get a headache.

  “Fine. Let’s ignore that for now. You still refuse to tell me anything about Dad. What’s your excuse for that?” I ask. Finally, my mother seems stumped. She lowers her head back down into her drink, hiding from my gaze.

  “…I was grieving. I made a mistake,” my mother excuses, still refusing to look at me.

  “Seems to me you’re still making it,” I say.

  A few seconds pass in which neither of us says anything.

  I sigh, “if you’re not going to tell me anything, then I’ll just-”

  “Your father was a good man.”

  I pause.

  “If you’ve heard anything about him, you’ve probably heard that. He was a hero before that was a job title, the type of man who was always unflinching in his morals and always sought to do the right thing. He was a shining beacon of hope to many.

  “I was always worried you’d turn out the same way.

  “Make no mistake, I loved your father for who he was, and he’s saved my life more than once. But as the years began to pass and the Upheaval dragged on, I began to resent him for what he was doing. For what he had to sacrifice to do it.

  “He was in constant danger. All the soldiers were, but, were he anyone else, I would have been content in the knowledge that he could always run, always escape. But that wasn’t him. He could always run, but he never would have. Instead, he’d risk it all to save one more person, risk not just his own safety, but mine, and, soon enough, yours as well.

  “When I got pregnant with you, the war against the Prophet was coming to a climax. You know the history—we gambled on attacking the former capitol. If we had failed, every single soldier we sent would have died and the war would’ve been lost. Including him.

  “We won that battle, as well as the simultaneous three-pronged assault on the Prophet’s staunchest supporters, and the war with it, but our family lost. Lost him. You already knew he died in that battle, didn't you? What you still probably don’t know is how.

  “He tried to save the Prophet’s prey—and in doing so became his next target.

  “Nobody could track your father in his prime—nobody but that bastard. Your father was faster than anyone else could possibly hope to match, even now, but he wasn’t durable. Against an opponent who knew not just where he was, but where he’d be, all it took was one shot.

  “In your early years, I grieved. I didn’t want to talk about him, or even think about him. It hurt too much. I threw myself into my work and raising you. I made many decisions in the heat of my anger, only a few of which I still don’t regret. One of them was telling you his story.

  “By the time I had recovered enough to want to tell you, it was already too late. I saw too much of him in you and knew you would only idolize him. I feared you would go down the same path. Call me selfish, call me cruel, but even now, everything I do is for your sake. I work in national defense to make the country safer for you, I helped spearhead the reaper corp to guard you against evil, and I will not apologize for lying to protect you. Not even now.”

  The widow of Frederick Gardner sighs and leans back in her chair.

  “If that makes you hate me…” her face hardens, “…then so be it.”

  A heavy, oppressive silence falls over the room. I can only watch my mother as I try to take all of that in. It feels disjointed, separate from the reality I now know, yet real. I can tell she didn’t give me a single lie.

  “You know you failed, right?” I ask her, “It feels petty to even say, but it’s true. You couldn’t stop me from being like Dad, and you can’t stop me now from doing something dangerous. I joined the reapers today.” That finally elicits a reaction, her eyes widening. “I will do everything I can to change things in the USC, and maybe even beyond. No matter what I risk in doing so. I guess you didn’t account for that, did you?”

  “…No, I don't suppose I did,” my mother replies, sounding defeated.

  I lower my gaze, “I’ll be getting my stuff now. I’ll probably stay with Allacia and Elias for a little bit, until I can find a place of my own.”

  “I understand,” my mother agrees.

  “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me, mom,” I say, “even if it wasn’t really everything you could have done.”

  She doesn't reply.

  —

  Turns out I didn’t even need to crash with my friends: there was an empty apartment in their hallway and, after some quick bureaucratic magic from Multishot, it was all mine. I place the last of my stuff down in the now much less empty apartment and turn towards Multishot as he places down a box of his own.

  “Your ‘mission’ finally done now?” I ask him.

  “To a satisfactory level, yes,” Multishot replies, “Though I doubt you minded my assistance towards the end, did you?”

  I smile sadly, “I can’t say I didn’t, no.”

  I still don’t understand the man in the slightest, but I can’t deny he’s helped me quite a bit since we’ve met. Already, I feel like I can at least trust him so long as I don’t do anything that goes against his goals. Can I really ask for more? Allies are too few and far between these days as it is.

  “I suppose I must be going now, miss,” Multishot tells me.

  I nod, “‘till we meet again.”

  The man smiles back at me as he shuts the door, leaving me alone in the apartment.

  With a sigh, I make my way to my new bedroom and slowly collapse onto the bed with a relieved sigh. The place feels so foreign to me, as no matter how much I’ve been changing locations lately, I’ll never quite get used to moving.

  Even now, I feel a twinge of doubt. While some might argue I should’ve moved out a while ago, it can hardly be ignored that I all but left in a huff. There’s no uncertainty as to how I left things: ‘bad terms’ only begins to describe it.

  I thought it might feel almost freeing, to finally voice how I'd been feeling—like it had been with Allacia and Elias, but, if I’m being entirely honest, now I just feel empty. I have no idea what to do next, or where my path will take me—doubly so with recent events taken into consideration—but I guess I’d just half-hoped mom would be on my side for it.

  Maybe it’s my fault, but I guess only time will tell. For now, though, I have a feeling there’ll be plenty to keep my mind off it.

  After all, I’ve sure made my share of enemies.

  —

  Somewhere far off, in a once-grand hall lined with gilded pillars now cracked and crumbling with age, a single man with spiked black hair sits atop a crumbling throne of stone. Descended from both warlords and emperors of old, everything from the manner of his dress, to his bulging muscles, to the distinct asian look to him gives the man an aura that almost seems a cross between a Mongolian Khan and a grand General of China.

  His very form exudes power, both in image, and literally, as the very air around him seems to shake with the effort of trying to contain the natural leakage of his raw strength that emanates with his every movement. To those that share the room there is no doubt: he is a god among men.

  Before his throne, a young, latina woman stands, her form flickering as though it is not quite wholly there. While her power seems to pale in comparison to the man before her, her steely eyes betray no hint of fear. In fact, they look almost arrogantly smug in the face of the monster atop the throne.

  “Empress,” the man addresses her with a low, booming voice, “it’s been some time. What brings you—or your image, I suppose—to my grand hall? Finally decided to face reality and become my willing slave?”

  “Hardly,” the woman scoffs, “I actually have some news you might find interesting. About the USC.”

  “Oh?” the man leans in, intrigued, “Let me guess: you’ve found a way through their blasted wall.”

  “Long ago, but I’d break quite a few agreements if I shared that, and I’m not willing to make direct moves against them quite yet,” the woman smiles, “Why would I, when I know something that I could guarantee would spur even the unpredictable Calamitous Dragon into action?”

  “Well don’t keep me waiting,” the man replies, “What do you have for me today?”

  The woman smiles, her eyes cruel and calculating.

  “The one who got away—you can find her in Newest York.”

  And the most dangerous man alive smiles back.

  —I have no plans for any hiatus' until the end of Arc 4, or the first "book." Hope you've been enjoying so far!