"AAAAAAAH!"
"You're going to traumatize her, stay quiet." Mom smacked the bloody sack with a glowing hand. "Charlotte, it's okay. Stop screaming. Like I said. First-generation supers abide by a very different law of physics." She stopped the car at a red light and hushed me for a moment.
I shook my head frantically, wanting to get away from whoever the hell my parents are. "No. I'd like to lay down. This has to be a dream, right? Right?
"Nope, I'm completely real." The sack replied. "I stopped bleeding, could you take the blanket off now? It's getting rather stuffy in here."
"No, I'm not going to show her anything until you fully heal up."
"That will take days!"
"And you'll suffer for days for being so reckless. We just retired, do you want to go back to business as is?"
Dad then fell silent.
The car started up again as the light turned green. I stared straight ahead, trying to adjust to all this because I apparently have a talking head for a father now. It's okay, absolutely alright. I just need to take a few deep breaths and digest the situation.
Well, if I can stomach some pain first. The adrenaline wore off, and I found myself wheezing heavily in the back seat, trying to keep my eyes open. My ribs were definitely broken. If they weren't, I was sure I probably bruised every single rib.
We pulled into the driveway of our house. I stood up, hobbling towards the house as bones in my chest ground against each other. Mom opened the door for me, carrying Dad in a brown paper bag. I grimaced as I carefully sat down on the sofa. It felt like every single muscle had been worked to the death.
"Come here." Mom put Dad on the counter and took my hands. Soothing warmth eliminated all traces of pain in my chest. Still, there was a weird snapping and clicking of my insides as they moved around. I would throw up, but it looks like Mom's also forcing my gag reflex to behave.
I watched her hands run over mine, and over time, I realized the white was actually fading from her skin as she continued healing. She stopped at about the quarter-way point when I began to breathe a little easier. She probably wanted to save some energy for Dad. "Go wash up, I'll get dinner ready if you haven't lost your appetite."
"I don't think dinner is appropriate after...that." I took off the cardboard mask. "What the heck, who are you? Dad, you're Supernova?"
"I am."
The moving sack made me uneasy. "Nevermind, I'll come back tomorrow. Bye!" Lifting myself off the sofa seemed to take all of my might. I limped towards the stairs, hopped up it, and collapsed on the floor of my bedroom.
Yup.
That's it. That's all I have to offer to the world at the moment. At least I didn't bleed all over my favorite coat. I probably can't ever wear it again though because people will know it's me. I just bought it too. What a shame.
Wait. I reached up into my hair and felt the emerald pin still there. Phew. I didn't lose it.
Of all powers, I get controlling plants. The ability to create life is pretty cool already. On top of that, I get the ability to fly? It's pretty awesome. Most supers have a singular trick. Having two superpowers is pretty rare, and only four people ever have three. Two of them are on the Board, one of them decided to disappear and retire, and the other one is currently dead.
Flying and plant powers are great, but now I have two career options in front of me.
As a superhero, I won't get paid much, but most equipment, transportation, and medical care are provided free of charge, except when asking our own headquarters. We need to pay a portion of that bill since it's so expensive.
Or, I can continue working as a full-time architect, my only skill that I've honed for over many years in my short life. I can't just give up my dream job just because I've gained a couple of powers. I want to rebuild whole cities. I've built a whole headquarters for Hailey.
I would still love to help out with the whole desolate wasteland thing, I just have two ways to help out now. I want to build a new reality where I can live because I just know that living in fear is not how things work. I wanted badly to heal the city I grew up in, and I can't just let Hailey take on everything herself just because she's the strongest in Denver.
It feels like I've grown so used to living in ruins that all manner of awful life just doesn't cut it anymore for me to be horrified. Hell, I have a friend who participated in underground trading.
I sat off, took off my coat, and sank into the covers of my bed.
I would wash up, but my limbs feel as if they were going to fall off if I move any further. Mom won't mind if I left my coat on the floor, right?
My eyes close, and my mind drifts away.
It felt like barely a split second before I had to wake up because of the alarm. I woke up groggily, and trudged across the floor, nearly tripping over the jacket, to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and noticed the dried flecks of blood on my shirt and jeans from when I needed to carry Hailey.
"Crap." I stared at the mirror. "It was real." And I bet my favorite coat was bled on too. I took a quick shower and tossed all of the clothes in the laundry basket.
I grew a bunch of grapes in my hand and popped a few in my mouth.
Okay. I just need to be okay. Be calm. I might see Dad's severed head today, but that is normal. That's an absolutely normal thing to see.
"Mom, I don't need to go to school today, right?" I slinked down the stairs, carefully and slowly stalking around the corner, expecting to see blood. Instead, the kitchen and living room had cleaned up nicely. The washing machine was running, and Dad had grown an arm and was relaxing in his seat on the couch. The news was on.
Mom made a face. "...I'll allow it."
I looked around, gauged the atmosphere, and brought the grapes to the counter. "On a side note, I'm pretty sure I can grow anything. Grapes?"
"I can't eat." Dad sighed in disappointment. "I haven't gotten my stomach and intestines back yet."
Mom took a few grapes from me. "What else can you make?"
"I don't think we ever need to buy groceries again. From potatoes or saffron, I've got it. I think."
"That's an extra three or four hundred dollars towards the debt," Dad muttered to himself.
The television changed channels as I took my plate from the counter. Dramatic music erupted from the speakers.
"Breaking News," the reporter said, "last night, a new superhero was spotted defending Mystical from two great enemies, Avalanche, and the dreaded man himself, Dystopia. Many people have begun called this new face Utopia due to her reading almost every single one of his attacks and blocking them.
"On the other hand, Mystical was gravely injured as a result of this attack. It might be the end for her if none of the personnel within the Department are available to help."
"Sounds like someone's got a new name." Dad nodded approvingly.
"Yes, except now she has a target on her back, from Dystopia no less." Mom sat down with me on the couch. "You two need to lay low for a while."
The news lady continued. "It also appears that Supernova has made an entrance into the scene, claiming Utopia as his daughter. Some say it is an illusion, others believe a legend has really come back from the dead. But two things can be drawn here. Utopia has a powerful parent that once used to rock the world apart, and Denver likely has another hero to its rescue."
"They are really hyping me up." I sighed. Wait a minute. I turned to Dad. "Wait you died?"
"I did, but it didn't stick." He cracked a grin. "You do know what happened six years ago, yeah? They could compare the devastation to the Calamity, a huge fight. I decided to stage my death at that last moment, because one, it would buy time for Groundhog. Two, because I was really tired of waking up and getting punched."
"Fell into a volcano, erupted it, and destroyed everything in a one hundred mile radius, caused fallout for two hundred more, and brought on an early winter. Biggest explosion he pulled off." Mom ate quietly. "Do you remember the business trip I told you we were going on? I spent a month looking for his remains. Any part would do, really."
"The damage was already done by the time you found me," Dad replied to Mom gently. "I needed organ transplants, immediately, luckily the most important ones didn't rot due to the regenerative ability."
"But don't you regenerate new organs when you heal?" I asked.
"No, not at all. It's more like getting the existing atoms on my body back rather than regeneration. When I'm in pieces for a little bit too long, the regeneration starts to fail, and you get permanent scars and damage. Your mom jumpstarts the healing process though."
"I don't remember Supernova needing to literally combust."
"It doesn't make it friendly for the news."
I frowned. "Does it hurt?"
"It does. A lot." He nodded. "But don't worry about it. I'll be fine. I think one of my lungs just returned." He patted his chest with the arm and grinned. "Breathing has never been so blessed.
I made a face. "Ew." I stared at the television as I finished breakfast, watching the news as it covered the events of yesterday.
Yesterday...
I felt like I was forgetting something. Something very important. Something that would decide my future and whether or not I have a career. My project! I grabbed the blueprint from the side table and ran back upstairs. "I'll be back!"
After sending off the project, I finally felt as if I could finally breathe. This will put me on the global market for credibility. Hope this catches someone's attention soon.
Let's recap. My parents are supers. I am a super, now possibly a superhero. And Dystopia has likely put a target on my back for embarrassing him in combat. Now Hailey was hurt and possibly on a long waitlist for a healer to come by and heal her psychic damage.
I checked the group chat, seeing that Benjamin and Victor had chatted with each other through the night. Both of them were alive, thank goodness. I sent a hello to chat, and both of them descended on me asking why I wasn't at school. Should they visit? And so on.
"Guys, I'm fine," I muttered to myself as I sent the next message into a pile of spam. "Just mildly grossed out and traumatized is all."
After finishing up doing all of my miscellaneous tasks, I headed back downstairs to see Mom put in a parent excuse for school. Dad has regained both lungs and a heart. I guess this is the new normal for my life now since the secret is out. I hope I never have to see Dad's severed head ever again.
"Uh, Mom," I frowned, thinking back again to yesterday. "you said something about the Department. You don't want the Department to find you?"
"Mhm."
"What about it? Does the Department think you're dead too? Are they after us?"
"Yep." Mom nodded.
"...Elaborate, please?"
"Sorry Charlotte, but it's top secret." Dad shifted as best he could. "We'll tell you when we're on our deathbeds, promise. It's quite a story, but I think it's better than this story dies with us."
"Considering Dystopia is after me, wouldn't any time be our deathbeds?"
Dad looked at Mom. Mom looked at Dad. They shook their heads. "No." "We can't tell you." "Classified."
Could they have…? "I mean, it's okay if you were involved in some shady stuff, you know."
No response.
"It's okay!" I pressed further. "Basically everyone does it when law enforcement is slow. I'm not going to rat you out. I'm not going to rat you out." They shook their heads. "Ugh, fine! I'll just assume you murdered people."
"That's not too far from the truth," Dad replied solemnly.
I'm actually surrounded by criminals. I can't believe it. I facepalmed in disappointment. The world keeps getting even sadder and sadder. The only people who haven't committed a crime yet were Hailey and Benjamin.
"Well...it was an accident-" Mom began.
I shook my head. "I don't need to listen to your tragic backstories."
Ding!
The notification noise interrupted all the conversations. We looked at each other. I checked my phone.
Ding. Goes the noise again, it was over on the bookshelf, not on any of our phones.
Mom walked over. "Let's hope the Secret Service hasn't entered our bedrooms at all." She pulled out an eye mask and a matte gray, one-piece, suit of kevlar from behind the medicine books. She put the mask on, looking through the glass eye holes, then handed it to me. "I believe this is for you."
I put on the mask, which was silky and fitted compared to the cardboard one Hailey gave me, and I looked around the interface, reading the message there.
[Hello Utopia,]
[If you are interested in becoming a registered superhero, please wear the anonymous suit provided to the Department in Maryland for Class evaluation. Your rank will change over time. If not, other options include temporary replacement of injured superheroes, especially for Mystical.]
[Sincerely,]
[The Golden Lady]