The pale moonlight and dark clouds above accompanied a young man through the streets of a small city as sirens rang in the distance and small potholes filled with murky water riddled the road ahead.
Jase slowly walked down the street. He plugged in his earbuds and listened to soft rock, a taste he picked up from his father. Nodding his head as he stepped lightly in a large puddle hidden in the middle of the sidewalk, the ripples obscuring his reflection.
So much had happened in the last few days that he couldn't even wrap his head around how much his life had changed.
Every step ached, and every nod of his head shook Jase to his core, causing the images of his past adventures to rage throughout his mind. The shadows of guilt caused by Dick's death threatened to consume his very being as he slowly made his way back to his house.
The past few days had brought him to his limits, both mentally and physically. He could ease the pain in his body with pain killers, but the scarring of his mind was something he hadn't managed to heal in the brief break the wake had brought him—not that he felt he would ever truly heal. Each day of suffering he put himself through only served to bring him closer to the brink.
'This is deserved,' Jase thought wearily.
After all the emotional damage he had caused and the life he had taken, he deserved to share a little bit of that pain. No one realized how much pain he was in, and that's how it should be, or at least that's how he felt it should be that way.
"What now…" Jase muttered as he stared blankly into the distance at the night sky.
Hal had grand visions of heroism. Keeping his city safe from evildoers, getting the spotlight, and becoming someone everyone in the world would look to with respect or hope. His friend seemed dead set on having Jase share in his aspirations as well.
But could he? Did he even deserve to go swinging around town, fighting bad guys, and being the hero?
Jase didn't know, honestly. Maybe everything would one day get better and he could go on harrowing escapades straight out of his best friend's comic books.
'Well, until then I'm stuck I guess'
Jase looked to his left down an alleyway filled with nothing but garbage and what looked like the remains of a makeshift shack fashioned out of cardboard and old chicken wire.
'Why didn't any of this really hit me in the past? All this dirt and grime are coating my home, and it doesn't seem like anyone wants to help.'
It didn't help that when he looked up, a shiny new logo had been added to the recently sold building. It gleamed with a certain haughtiness, as if mocking both himself and the city at large.
The building had been bought out by "Erato Inc."; Jase hadn't really heard of them other than seeing their logo on the side of an occasional truck that's gone down his street.
Now that he thought of it, there were always people proclaiming their desire to clean up the city and make it into a beautiful city worthy of the great vision those in the U.S. had of California.
'Everyone always tries, or maybe most of them never really were, thought Jase.
There would always be those that said they would try, and even a couple of those that would guarantee the future of their "great" city, and yet here was Jase, staring at a forgotten piece of some poor soul's home, all because of these broken promises.
None of these promises have been fulfilled, and hollow and empty lie the broken pieces of hope they feigned to bring.
Something stirred within Jase as he continued his walk home, to the point he even felt enraged with the state his home had been brought to over the course of his life, even his parent's lives.
However, Jase quickly suppressed his rage. What right did he have to act on this feeling after he contributed to the stain that covered his city with his own two hands?
'Ahh, there's so much to consider, so much to feel, so much to see and hear... If no one will pick up the pieces,...'
Jase hesitated as he reached the door to his home.
'...Should I?'