It was a demonstration of dozens of people standing on their cars, blocking traffic while waving signs with "Supers aren't human!" or "Lock them up!" or any number of foul things on them. People from every walk of life congregated there, whether they wore a business suit or a flannel shirt. It would have been a humbling show of unity, were it not for the fact that they railed against the very person Felix was.
A muscular and charismatic man stepped on top of some kind of crate or other pedestal that Felix couldn't quite see. As it were, the only thing he saw was the man's head. But while he couldn't see the rest of the man, he could certainly hear what he had to say.
Armed with a bullhorn, the man spoke in his thick French accent. "Friends, we are here today to protect not only ourselves, but our families. No, we are here for more than that. We are here to protect the fabric of our society!"
A round of cheers erupted at that, with many of the people around Felix – people not even associated with the protestors – joining in. The man continued, "I remember when I first heard about the Seven. These people had power that no other group of people could even begin to imagine. We called them superhumans: something above a regular human."
"But they understood that they needed to work with our governments. Those arrogant 'Supers' couldn't hope to stand a chance against the combined might of all of humanity. But now, friends? There are countless people with powers that the rest of us don't have," he yelled, his voice made scratchier as the bullhorn struggled with the volume. Somehow, the angry response from the crowd was even louder.
"What's to stop these people from lording over us? They'll use their power and subjugate us!" he called, looking back and forth, seemingly looking every member of his audience in the eyes. "Do you want that?"
"NO!" the collective cry rang out, echoing between the buildings that lined the street.
"So we lock up these self-proclaimed 'Supers' – they're a super menace, if anything – and bring back regular life! Tell your friends, your family, and anyone you know. We need to spread the message until every last Super is behind bars!"
It was at this climax that Harper and Johnathan caught up to Felix, appearing beside him as they struggled to pass between members of the crowd. Harper's eyes went wide as she took in his final words, while Johnathan looked on with a sad resignation.
"No way," Harper whispered, looking on as the crowd in front of them starting raising their fists in the air, determined to do exactly as the man on the pedestal inspired them to.
"But what if they just want to help? Like superheroes?" Felix shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice carrying just over the general din of the veritable sea of people around them.
"They might want to do that, for now. They just want to feed their hero complexes, and then when they're finally bored of that, they'll just do whatever fits their fancy. The two 'heroes' who saved Gerald Smith last night don't care about us. They just want good press," the man answered, his eyes finding Felix's. The crowd seemed to agree with their apparent leader's words. The muttering around Felix was mostly a chorus of "that makes sense" or "yeah, he's right."
Felix popped back in time to just before he asked his question. This time, he simply maneuvered his way back through the crowd, wordlessly. He didn't know everyone thought so little of superheroes. Whenever he heard about them, it was always the comic books that appeared in his mind first. Everyone liked to see their favorite heroes in theaters… what had changed now that they were real?
At the edge of the crowd, he stopped for a moment when he heard a young boy's voice asking a question he desperately wanted to hear the answer to: "Grandpa, why are they all mad?"
Felix walked towards them, hoping that he'd be able to hear.
"They're not mad, buddy. They're scared. It's okay, they'll forget about all this and move on," the old man said. Felix almost felt bad for eavesdropping, but he needed to hear those words, for they were true.
All these people didn't resent the idea of superheroes. No, they hated the possibility of a supervillain, or multiple supervillains. Felix understood their fear, and it was something he'd thought about many times. But it wasn't the powers that made a supervillain, it was their moral compass.
He almost dove back into the crowd, eager to voice his newfound enlightenment, but the police chose that moment to break the crowd apart. A few pockets of violence had broken out, and the officers were on a mission to stamp it out. Felix stumbled backwards, his foot having caught on someone else's shoe.
Apologizing, Felix fled the street, walking back to the university as fast as he could. He didn't know what exactly this anti-superhuman movement would mean for him, but he hoped that not everyone was as paranoid as what he had seen today. If they were, it would make being a superhero many, many times more difficult.
Even if that were true, though, Felix knew one thing: it wouldn't stop him.