Terror, the fear of the death coming to you with nothing left to stop it. It can break even the best, even the strongest, even those seemingly lost to it. It can tear people down to nothing. Expose who they truly are. Leave them with just what they always were.

Or it can break the one thing keeping them lost to themselves.

Buster's terror, her fear of that on rushing death, the panic in her eyes as her own weapon came for her with just as much vengeance as she'd beaten through it. It broke her wrath, freed her of the spiral that would have consumed her. And opened her eyes in one final flash of despair. In the light of the plasma burn staring her in the face.

A shielding arm still shaking in the aftershocks, still knowing it was alive but unable come to those terms. Could do little to block it out the light. Those burning blue eyes staring into her soul, demanding everything that her fear had uncovered. But conveying a message in line with the gleaming red sword that thrummed through her entire world. A message that had gone unheeded by its new teller, but would be spread regardless as better.

That this road was not worth it.

That there was always someone whose wrath eclipsed yours. That there was no winning this even if she had burned herself through and through. And that this cycle was not hers to finish. Nor would it allow another go round vicious.

As Seth rose up from his medium, over her like the titan he was in all but proportions. The overriding grip on her sword released, the red shifted oscillations ceasing and locking it back from whence it was freed. Right alongside the only owner it knew. The only one it cared for.

A vast billboard for his unsaid words to dominate Buster's cower, making her know that she wasn't dead despite all of her fear. Her own weapon used to convey it undeniable. With only a slight change given away freely. A means that it so very much wished for.

The moment of terror and the breaking of her spiral ended in his shadow, but still some of that wrath flooding back. Her shielding hand swiping at defiant, trying to scream for him to just end this bullshit! But only succeeded in finding her sword and slapping it blindly.

"vvvstopvvv"

And feeling for herself just what had been done. A new moment coming crashing down, blowing away what smoldering motes remained of her bonfire, utter soul shatter that needed to be perpetrated. She'd heard it, a voice. She'd felt it, intent. She knew it at once but wholeheartedly never knew it could. Subtle vibration, a change in that heart given life. In the only thing she valued over herself and what was hers. It was so small, quiet, like smooth braille on its dull surface. But there was no baffle in this world that could cover over what she now knew. That her blade had finally found its voice…

And it was scared of what she'd become.

So a new fall became realized, her stare rising from the depths harder than if Seth had simply stabbed a full foot to the left. Conflicting, unable to understand or avoid the object of her revenge. Anger whipping embers flooded by fear, sadness wrapped in joy too tight to not leak. A want to tear apart this entire reality, to make it make sense again. Because she could not understand why her enemy, the one who killed those she cared about, that she wanted to prove herself to, would keep her alive. And give her what was truly in her heart.

But all her collapsing expression read as, was that there was nothing left for him here.

Without a word, without a hint of pride or arrogance or pity for the one freed of the violence-go-round, he turned away from her and the monument of his own sins. Metal talons scratched the destroyed path carelessly, but without malice. Masking the sound of Buster struggling to her feet and trying to reignite her wrath and wrench her blade free. Try to cement what was already being filled in with what she couldn't get a grip over. All to no avail, as that heart refused to allow her to fall again.

His total disregard his only acknowledgement. For the wailing demands she made, for every desperate attempt to reignite her fire before the wet ashes she piled too high fell over and left her with nothing but that which she could never ignore. More care afforded to the inanimate than the living. Because he couldn't give her what she thought she wanted. That burning blue glare lost to her, falling on the still crowding bystanders as Seth walked away from the fight well and truly over.

The throngs that once cheered cowered back, the ones who once could not hold back now lost in unsolicited fear. For what would happen to them now that there was no one left to stand against him. Selfish worry for their safety boiling horror on the stove, all only stymied by the slow moving mob and the concern of what he would do if they truly panicked. All this in spite of the gradual dimming of that plasma glare.

Seth just kept walking between recoiling halves, heavy metal steps the only sound beside the occasional unwarranted whimper. He wasn't heartless, he was just done with this place, done with fighting if all it ever did was continue some cycle he'd fallen into. The guilt in his heart was gone, but the weight now fell over him in even pressure. The memories of what he'd done were front and center, practically out weighing those that haunted restful sleep away. The weight keeping him low, even as he walked high above the fear surrounding him. Fear mixed with betrayal and misfortune.

The survivors, the supers too weak or too lost, former cargo restored and given back what still needed to be mended. Now given new trauma to suffer. The realization of their situation driving them farther back than the rest. Those brown brave eyes putting his crimes into high definition, even that little Tasha knew to hate him for what he'd done. For what he… for what he was. So many fighting with the image before them, fighting back what truths they heard. One mote of awe buried in there even. Some blond soul too broken to see sense anymore, some strange familiarity. But in all Seth was more annoyed than regretful. An annoyance that flared as he saw his burned disguise scattered among the fearful.

His discarded hat clutched by a woman who seemed completely aware of what she held in her hands. Electron threads that had spread to it illuminating it through the crowd and her souvenir seeking grasp. An invisible pull, an infinitesimal strand wrenched it free to her surprise and reflexive screaming. Contagious and false panic that only made this more annoying. The cap flew into his clawed hand as the crowd's fear hardened in response. Transitory leers fell on ignoring metal as Seth popped the cap open and skewered it over his head, remaining horn locking it in place, brim shadowing his dimming glare. He wasn't living the lie anymore, but he wasn't going to let what was his go.

His coat flared bright over the no longer wounded unfortunate he'd draped it over, clutched tight to shield his body from the cold blood loss brought on. But knowing glances at it loosened that grasp. Seth raised his other hand, pulled at the thread laden coat that had served its purpose. Flying free of the man's relinquished hold and socketed right onto his armored arm. The other arm forcing into the other sleeve. It barely fit now, but it was his and his alone. No tags left of its borrowed status. Only the thrum of who he was.

Those wounded and healed cowered away just like the bandwagoners. Mixed emotions in every face and coming through with every locked glare Seth ignored. Most holding betrayal, skepticism, fear and anger. Worry squeaking out, that all that was done to them was tainted or about to be undone. The implications of acknowledging them kept him stared straight ahead. His own fear of igniting more misplaced bullshit keeping-

Him lost to all but one. As his scarf broke his over intensive disregarding.

A hand, the arm it had been wrapped around, held it out into the gap. A fearful boy he'd only seen as another tally to the wounded, lost in the triage of his guilt and made just one of many. Yet his eyes broke the mix surrounding, clear silent thanks for saving him from the pain. Other hands tried to shield him back, tried to dissuade and teach him the same fear they held, but he ducked away from them and continued his solo crusade. As Seth's march stopped right in line.

A dim blue glare fell on him and him alone, and a metal claw extending to accept back what was given. A gentle pull enacted to keep the distance between from closing and bellowing the fear surrounding. An errant fluttering, horridly nostalgic if only so recent, but refuted as the cloth ended its flight in his hand. A shared warmth clung to it, despite the armored separation, and that glare abated and returned to the long path ahead. The scarf tied tight over the metallic neck and left flowing only just above the coat's collar. A more pleasant nostalgia to ease the weight now finding less strength to keep it up.

A pitiful disguise, a worthless a return to what was before. An admission to the lie he'd lived even for such a short time. But still a small amount of cover to live under. A talon cracked the asphalt below it, stanced him down, and launched him away from the fear he'd created. Not an escape, just a moving on from it all.

Buildings flew by as he retraced his steps with far more weight pressing down. Coped roofs dented as he reapplied his inertia. The cold still air rushing by his helmet, a small grace felt at last against the consequences of his own speed. The city was only just starting back up, his drain had kept it quiet for too long already. But…

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

But he still felt a flash of guilt pang his being. As the glare of his hunters rose over the hill ahead of him.

That flight of VTOLs and then some, extras escorting the last load of survivors left stranded. The news had finally caught and now everyone was back in play. A swarm of flyers surrounding, breaking off as the state of the city came into view. A hero's work was never truly done, and Seth had given them far too much to do today already. He landed down, trying his best not to shatter the asphalt before the bridge still ahead. The same bridge he'd crossed getting out of the city, retreading ground a little too much. But it was the only cover left to him. And it was empty.

'I think… people are getting too used to living without power.'

Seth didn't know why he still tried to talk to himself. Like he used to with the Garkah. He just… needed something to stay the same. Needed to let out what arguably stayed in and unsaid. And it almost felt like there was still someone there to hear him. To be there beside as he trudged in the midst of the consequences of his actions. Calmed thoughts and heavy steps clashing with the drone and whistle of his pursuers approaching. A harmonizing metronome he'd gotten too used to. A better thing to focus on than doubly stained memories. And the mounting emptiness they created.

A focus to dissipate and alleviate, despite the tension only separated by corrugated metal and rain barrier. A rev down from hostility, a release from what may. The talons fusing together, solid metal feet keeping the rhythm simple. The spine receded the barely noticed tail that peeked below his coat back to insignificance. The claws retracting inside his straining coat pockets. The maw fusing shut again, and the remaining horn trying to fold back into the helmet. The hat brim bunching into the hinge, stopping it from hiding. Seth interceded before it chewed his cover apart, pulling it away and letting the suit finally hide its terrifying true form. He replaced the cap, now a little torn but stuck fast, a consolation as threads held tight in the easing cold coming on.

A moment hung as he walked into the waning sunlight, the skies now as empty as the streets ahead. A familiar whistle on the wind greeting him in the dusk. A familiar pain not daring to tempt fate and look up. His armor only just fitting in the shadow he wore. But the source unmistakable, as Aegis' path ran parallel with his.

Whether by delays or just one last check, she was the last of the flight missing their mark because of more pressing matters. But this stolen moment still chilled Seth to the bone, he couldn't face her after everything that's happened. Not after everything he'd done.

But that didn't matter as it all came to nothing, ships passing in the night unaware. Her focus on the city needing protecting, his on getting distance and… and closing shop with his hideout. Whether the Zors hear him out or not didn't really matter either, he'd rather they know something rather than nothing. He'd rather not leave them burned for thinking he was… he was a real hero. There were already too many that would never even give him the time of day.

The forest road left him with those thoughts, calmed by the metronome of another long walk ahead but depressed by the guilt that weighed down everything now thoroughly lost to him. He still wanted to be a hero, wanted to get to at least some point of reparation. Atonement. For surviving where so many didn't. For being given power when all others were rent from their humanity. For living a lie all these years to even earn the chance to start. But now those dreams were shattered, stained with the blood of people who didn't deserve to die and hung around his neck like a sinner's mark. He'd lost his family, his old friends, his new friends. His new family had abando-

'No… No they did not abandon me…!'

The Garkah had suffered their own guilt and could no longer bear him taking the blame for them. His friends now hunting him though were jelou-

'No…! They're afraid… but I'm not going to feed that fear anymore.'

They hated him…

'Because of what I did…'

Because he had no choice…

'Because I couldn't… control myself…'

Because… you made… a promise…

"What the hell happened?"

That question was perpetually running through Aegis' mind as she returned from one controversy to another. The reinforced medical flight ahead of her was breaking off, support squads filling in gaps as the calls poured in… again. The city was dark at the edges and dim at best. Cars filled streets at total standstills. Crews were scrambling on foot if they had to, clearing lanes and restarting what vehicles they could. All to fix what broke just a week ago. But now more damage was done, comms barely there even this close, and people were crowding the base of The Hill.

What police and security that could hold the line were holding them at bay from ascending wantonly. Trying to stop them from taking out their frustrations on those sworn to help. But floating over it all, it was undeniable. People were angry and couldn't understand what was happening. Their heroes were getting beaten at every turn, or dragged away to fight fires and chase leads as the real threat made a mockery of them. But Seth was making things even harder understand in the face of it all. Aegis knew full well that Buster's trap would be next to useless, she'd only fought a burned out husk of what he'd had been. But…

"What the hell happened?"

Alex had been stunned by this sudden new level, this sudden ability to undo the damage he caused. It was something that drove her fear higher than her duty to report it immediately. Razor… Well he was just plain old unhelpful. Both took almost an hour just to tell her what they saw, that the city was blacked out again, that something more was happening that they couldn't understand. They were afraid of it. And lucky that only Aegis had found them on her sweep. Not that Seth's sudden power spike made much sense to her either. Nor the EMP attack on the city he was still miles away from. But they all at least understood why he ran back to Kadia. He still wanted to be a damn hero, and something was adding a cost to his actions.

Aegis had rallied what she could, dragged away transports from the Terrace base to get those still needing evacuation out before things got ugly. Just because Seth wished something didn't mean he was vindicated. But cleaning up the mess he left them still had cost them time. Time enough for everything to be said and done, and resentment to fester on both sides of the periphery.

Their stay in Eagleville had been too long and too much to bear. And the security not enough to keep the rising tide at bay. Crowds were gathering en masse, and the attitudes were looking damningly familiar. As much as she wished she could, no one could stay. Nor could she see who was whipping up this fervor. She had to be the rear guard so everyone could get out, trying to keep the exponentially dying peace in the face of a second Kineticlysm incident. The fires weren't burning yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. It almost hurt more to hear Razor get forced into the VTOL, but this was already one evacuation too many. And yet the only thing they all returned to was another said and done battlefield.

And more questions.

The healed sang both conflicted and staunch praises, the bandwagoned screamed for reassurances and retribution, the recently dead… were just thankful their suffering was over. But they feared scrutiny and blame by association, so were quickly gotten clear. They still needed help.

The city was at a loss and demanding answers no one could give. The Hill was left in the lurch, most of its power fried and everything falling on heroes that could only work so fast, only understand so much.

And in the middle of all of this… was a defeated Buster. Huddled next to her twice trapped sword at the base of her once proud monument. It was like that day all over again, graduation night repeated in its calamity. Just not in its casualty. The city's once great heroes were losing their stature. And being dragged lower and lower.

Aegis touched down at the base of The Hill's stairs, police line staunch in the face of too many questions and too much yelling. The anger, the fear, the entitlement and sincerity. The faces people were making at her as she looked over the crowds demanded more than she could give. It tightened her grip too much for her skin to take. But she had to take it, it wasn't their fault all this happened. But that blame fell partly upon her. And drove her away from the accusing yells.

She turned and started climbing, a penance to bear for her failure, and some time to think without more directed accusations. The yells lessened in their resolution as she gained height, but their conglomeration hardly lessened their effect. The cacophonous din muddling her last vestige of peace. But she still worked through it all over and over. Tried to make sense of it. More and more paradoxes rising and falling with every step. And more and more urgency rising in line.

Seth had his suit back, was displaying more power than he had before, was repairing damage he had done. And… and what he couldn't have done. Healing people like he was Mediknight's second coming, reviving the dead like nothing possible. And had shown unmitigated regret in the face of his crimes like it was the first time he'd known. Yet still it all boiled down to that still all-encompassing question.

"What the hell happened?"

But a shadow rose above to meet that question as the stairs ended ahead. A stoic glare asking in retort what needed to be questioned.

"What will happen because of it?"

This feeling. Hold it, don't let it go. Don't you dare let it slip away and be forgotten. Weightlessness, immateria, trying to fleet away like so many lives between your... your useless fingers. Old defects, long healed but back but who cares. An arm and a leg and the old left eye are worth this. Worth this feeling.

The rest are forgetting, these fools are doing all the fact finding for me and all I have to do is overhear it. With my good side. None of them are looking closely, none of the fodder know I'm here. Though this old stroke wasted face hasn't seen the light of day in decades. But I know the real reason though. Why we are so disregarded. They saw what we all felt, and are afraid. But I can't help but be exited.

Immortality. True immortality. That interloper, my 'savior', a blue eyed monster showing itself and giving me back my old broken body. Youth and age wounds but none of the additions. I don't hate purple anymore so the brain is back as well. A time bomb. Oh... but I missed so much choosing to hide away after repairing it. But I see now. I know now. They were not so inscrutable.

I had thought the crisis a ploy, a temptation, their little call to action in defense of the world just another way to lock me away after I'd amputated and grafted to my heart's content. But it was worse than that. Hearing the stories, reading the reports, seeing the broken looks on my fellow compatriot's faces. I had thought those things truly antithetical to my hopes and dreams. Biological dead ends that existed just to spite me. But no…

They are truly real. Truly undying. Truly the answer to all of this searching. They were pure inside. Mutable outside. Lost in some... neurological phenomena that I can whittle away at later. But they were truly the answer to all of my prayers.

The horn in my broken hand says it so very loud and clear.

It will take time, and some new flesh, but I have lots of that spared. Telomeres are such fickle things, but this youth will not be wasted. The full experience though. The true deathlessness that shall come. All I need is right here. All that I need…

Is time.

And a vessel.

To make it real again.

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