Ezra

The industrial area. Abandoned. By the look of it, at least. Either way, safer than the inner city right now. Noah told me.

Walking is easy, since I killed the principal. It was so easy. Death at a thought. Almost instant. Irreversible. Absolute.

It should probably scare me. Maybe it does. Try not to think of it. Try not to think of the way Hope looked at me when she realised.

Noah is walking beside me, his breath slow and measured. He must be in pain, but he’s working his way around it. Just like me. Only had to help him for the short distance to the school gates.

We’re similar, right now. He says it’s not just the pain. Our past. The way they look at us. Says there are more of us. Enduring, suffering, finally preparing to strike back. Probably currently striking back.

The plan is simple, the way he made it seem.

The man steps closer.

I eye him, frowning. “What kind of proposal?”

Still that winning smile. Could mistake it for an evil one. “One of mutual benefit to us both and so many others.”

I want to take a step back, he’s too close. But I don’t, because I don’t want to seem scared.

“Because I know something Atlas really does not want you to know. Not if they find out what you can do with your pain, anyway.”

So this is about them. Somehow. But they don’t know, do they? Not yet.

But they will, soon. Honestly surprising they haven’t tried to kill me yet. Only a matter of time before they know and they’ll try something.

I don’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he’s talking about. Just stare at him. Stare and wait.

He doesn’t take long to catch on.

“I know how you can get rid of your pain.”

My stomach flies. Adrenaline. Hope. Distrust.

“How?”

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, like he’s preparing to talk for a long time.

“How many people do you think you can kill at the same time?”

I shrug. Haven’t ever tried to kill more than two at once. Didn’t feel hard. “Ten?”

He shakes his head. “No, I think you can kill much more. Hundreds, probably. But here’s the thing. Do you know how people’s powers can get weaker when they’re being strained?”

I’ve seen it. Hephaestos’ fire growing weaker, Emily’s teleportation slowing. I nod.

“There’s a technique called overcharging. It’s used only rarely, the way barely anybody runs until they fall over with exhaustion. It’s difficult, but I think your will is strong enough.”

Why is he being so secretive? He’s grinning like he knows he’s caught my attention and that finally I’ll have to ask for the final solution, even though I can already guess. I hate it. Both his grin and what he’s about to say.

“So?”

A flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

“You have to kill enough people at the same time and you might exhaust your atlas cells to the point where they stop running rampage in your body and go dormant.”

I try hard not to let him see how sick I feel.

Already, it’s getting hard to focus again. A craving stirs inside of me. Thought I’d stilled it for the night at least. But no. I imagine giving him my pain. The feeling of relief. Normalcy. But I can’t let myself. One target per night, I told myself. Yes, my parents are two, but I had to take both. No other way. He, however…. Don’t want to escalate. Can’t allow myself.

“And what makes you think I’d ever do that?”

“Because you have no choice. You won’t get any more opportunity to… discharge onto burglars once Atlas finds out. They’re already too scared of you, aren’t they? So you’ve got to decide before they find out, do you want to live?”

He’s manipulating me. He’s manipulating me and I won’t let it happen.

“That’s insane,” I hiss. “I’m aware I’m not a saint, but I’m not evil. I am NOT going to just kill a couple hundred people for you.”

I turn, begin to walk away. I’m aware of the decision I’m making. I’m walking away from a possible cure. But I’m also walking away from being irredeemably evil. Because right now I’m fighting to survive. To protect not only myself but Hope as well.

“And what if they deserve it?”

I stop.

“Nobody deserves to die.” Not even my parents. But I had to give my pain to somebody…

“Not even people who kidnap and torture children?”

Hundreds of people who kidnap and torture children? Yeah, totally.

“Not even them.”

I’m only arguing to win at this point. To get him to fuck off, because I don’t want him to keep talking. Because I’m scared he might convince me.

“But do they deserve to live more than you do?”

I grit my teeth. Hands ball into fists. “Not my decision to make.”

“But it was with your parents?”

Stomach flips. Finally, I’m angry enough to walk away. “Fuck. You.”

I tried to forget. I tried not to care. Then I almost killed Niall and Hope said she wanted to kill the heroes and in my head his voice just kept echoing.

But do they deserve to live more than you?

So I sought out Noah again and he told me. That the way they treated me was not special. That they keep other wielders locked away to experiment on them. That the only reason I’m still alive is because firstly, they’re scared and secondly, too many people know about me. It’d be suspicious if I just disappeared.

Also told me they’d be breaking in there to cause a little chaos and distract the orderlies.

Asked him whether that was his only goal.

No, he’d said. But taking out Atlas is the most important part of it. Only Atlas and their heroes can stop us. And then, once you’ve helped us take them out, we make sure nothing like that ever happens again. This isn’t just about freedom for you and I or the people currently locked up in that facility of theirs. This is about the freedom of every wielder in the country, maybe the entire world.

He’d said it like he actually believed it. Like he thought killing was the way to get rights. Not like I have to care. Not here, didn’t kill Mr White because I care about my rights.

I know he could be lying to me, about putting my powers back to sleep. Might start caring about that sometime in the future. Once I know Hope’s doing better. Once I feel a little better myself. Having her take my pain just isn’t the same. Doesn’t bring the same peace. Hard to describe.

Right now, I don’t care.

I’m protecting her. And if I can cure myself at the cost of Atlas? She sounded like she’d take the deal. Though surely, the reality is different. She was just angry. Angry people say things they don’t mean. Especially Hope.

Don’t expect her to ever wanna talk to me again. Still better than letting her die.

“There it is,” Noah says suddenly, pointing at a warehouse with his healthy arm. “The others should be back by now.”

The others. The ones who broke into the secret prison. The ‘research facility’. Ha.

We enter the premises through a hole in the fence, walk across the yard. Then he stops and waves at the shadow and a young woman emerges. It’s hard to tell if she’d just been hiding really well or had actually turned into the dark.

“The others are already inside,” she calls. She seems tense. Not all that surprising, considering what’s currently happening.

“Did it go well?” Noah asks.

She shrugs. “They brought the people you wanted. But Daragh didn’t look like he was doing too well.”

“No wounds?”

“None that I could see.”

Noah gives a slight nod and we continue towards the side entrance of the warehouse.

I want to ask about the woman, but I don’t. I’m not here to make conversation. I’m not here to make friends.

The inside of the warehouse is warmer than expected. Warm enough to take off my jacket.

There are a few people there. Sitting in circles, standing in small groups, talking. I don’t count, but it must be around fifteen?

Some of them greet us – him with waves. A somewhat small man walks up to greet us. He looks a little younger than Noah. Makes him still a fair bit older than me.

He grins at Noah, looks like he wants to slap him on the shoulder but stops himself.

“I’ve seen you look better!”

Noah didn’t tell me about him. But then again, I knew he had allies.

Noah grins ever so slightly, then looks around. “Did you get her?”

Get who? Somebody from the facility?

The man nods. “Verona!”

A somewhat older woman gets up and comes our way. Her hair is long and already fully grey, but she’s still pretty. Still youthful, somehow, inspite of the wrinkles.

“My saviour,” she cackles and only then I notice the mad glow in her eyes. “In need of a little… healing?”

Noah nods. “Yes, please.”

“And who’s health shall I take in turn?”

Her gaze snaps in my direction and she’s suddenly way too close. “You, boy? Would you like to carry our great saviour's pain for him?”

I want to say something, but before I can open my mouth, the man has put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her a little away. “Take me. I’ll heal faster.”

She clicks her tongue. “We really should’ve brought some of the guards along.”

Then she puts out both of her hands. She doesn’t touch either of them and soon there’s red mist swirling from her hands. It surrounds both of the men and as I watch, I see the mist cut the second man, just as the wounds on Noah’s face close. It’s both horrifying and fascinating. In a way, the woman is both Hope and I as one.

By the time she’s done, Noah is fully healed and the man has a broken shoulder and dozens of little cuts. He doesn’t seem all too bothered by it. His face only goes a little tense as he grabs his upper arm and puts the bone back into the right place.

Then he sees me staring. Grins. “Don’t worry, I heal quickly. Among other things. ” He offers his hand. “Welcome, Ezra. I’m Riekah.”

I take it. He shakes it. His grip is strong, but not too much so.

When he’s certain I’m not going to say anything, he turns to Noah.

“We need to talk. Somewhere… privat.”

Noah nods. “The buro.” He points at a door at the other end of the hall. “Wanna come, Ezra?”

I shrug and follow the two men. It’s weird that they’d include me in… whatever they’re planning to talk about. Then again, I’m their weapon of mass destruction. I’m important, doesn’t matter how much I don’t want to be.

As I’d thought, there’s a buro behind the door. A small-ish room with a desk and a chair. The desk is still littered with paper.

Soon as the door’s closed, Riekah whips around to Noah. “Did you know she’s batshit?” he hisses.

Noah gives him a surprised look. “She looked fine to me, if a little weird.”

“She attacked Daragh,” he says, pointing at the door.

Noah steps to one of the windows and moves the blinds to look through.

“He seems fine,” he says then.

Slowly, Riekah calms. “I wasn’t there but… Mirko said she drained him. Probably so she could live and she did drain a guard to heal him soon after, but…. She’s dangerous. We’ll have to keep an eye on her.”

“Give her some time,” Noah says, casually stepping away from the window. “For all we know, she’s been locked in there the longest. Imagine being tortured for thirty years. And anyway, dangerous is what we need to win this war.” He throws me a knowing glance.

Because I’m dangerous.

“What about the other?”

Riekah shrugs. “Doesn’t talk much. She did say her name was Mira, though.” He shakes his head. “What a weird power. Birds. I get why you wanted Verona, but her? What are we going to do with birds?”

Noah winks. “There was a reason why she was locked up down there. I’ve got a feeling she’s going to be one of the deciding factors in this war.”

-----------

Later

Can’t sleep. The pain’s gotten worse already. Not the pain. My ability to deal with it.

Noah’s asleep. Together with the others in sleeping bags on yoga mats. Said we’ll soon have a better base, once the war has started properly. Right now we have to wait. Until the wielders currently running rampage in the central city have joined us.

Why they didn’t immediately just tell them to join them?

Too many, not enough time. Wanted them to join on their own accord.

It’ll take a few more days, Noah said. At latest, once they’ve made some sort of power statement.

I find a ladder I haven’t seen before. It leads up a narrow shaft, probably to the roof.

Fuck it, some fresh air’d be nice right now. Maybe a look at the stars…

Climb up, open the trap door at the top and crawl onto the roof.

Air’s even colder than earlier. It’s still dark. Can’t be much longer until sunrise, though. I look at my phone. Five am. So still another few hours.

Not that it matters. I’ll only be able to sleep next evening, once I’m exhausted enough. Or if I kill somebody.

Wonder what Hope’s doing right now. Is she sleeping? No, probably not. Is she talking to the people from Atlas, helping them figure out some way to take me out?

She has to, right? Even if I can’t imagine. Even if the thought hurts.

A noise behind me. I turn.

A woman, sitting in the snow, looking at me. She’s wearing a long coat and has a thick, woollen hat on her head. But her hands are bare. She’s holding a pigeon. Another few are walking by her legs.

Mira. The one they rescued from the prison. The one that doesn’t really talk.

“Can I sit with you?” I ask, walking up to her.

She nods.

I pull down the edge of my jacket and sit on it. Not really comfortable, but I don’t mind.

“So.” Only a little awkward. “What’s it like, being free?”

Not like I’m not in the same situation. Except I wasn’t locked up in a cell. Only tortured. But that’s different, too.

“Weird,” she whispers in a voice that sounds like it hasn’t been used in a long time. “Like this is all just a dream and it’ll be even worse once I wake up again.”

Feel bad for her. She must be really traumatised by this. I used to be good at making people feel better. At least with Hope.

“Which are your favourite birds?” Best I could come up with on the spot.

Gently, she caresses the side of one of the birds by her legs.

“Pigeons,” she whispers.

“Why?”

“Because there are so many of them. And don’t you think they’re beautiful?”

No, not really. The grey’s ugly. The colour around their neck could be pretty in combination with some other bright colour like red. But the way they are?

“I guess…”

“They’ve understood something so many others haven’t. That it’s time to stop surviving in spite of humans and start doing it because of them.”

Like she’s not also a human.

“Here,” she says and hands me the pigeon in her hands. “Hold her. Pat her.”

With a weird feeling in my stomach, I take the bird from her hands. Doesn’t fly away like I’d expected. Just cocks its head a little, inspecting me curiously. Through my fingers, I feel the pigeon’s warmth and its tiny little heartbeat. Suddenly, I get it. They’re beautiful in the same way everything alive is beautiful. And then I realise that I care. Care about what happened to her. Care about what’s going to happen to her. She doesn’t deserve to suffer.

Already, I failed.

Great villain, you are, Ezra. Planned to be all cold and detached and cool. And here you are, patting a pigeon.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. Gently, I put down the bird in my lap and get out my phone. My stomach turns. It’s a text from Hope.

Meet me in the central park or I swear to everything you and I care about that I’m going to tell them everything I know about you.