-Five Years Post Saturation Completion. CONT.-
'EleBolt, the leader of the Taranis Heros guild, a hero…wait…are they all?' My mind spun up on overdrive. Snapping my head to Emilia and her now-deceased opponent, I walked over and unveiled his identity, and he, too, was another Hero.
Quickly, I moved from one masked person to another, and as expected, every one of them was not only famous but also the Leader or Vice-Leader of one of the many prominent Heroes Guilds.
'EleBolt of Taranis, WindFang from Fangs of Destiny, Dark Cowl from Night's Silence, Router and Lark, the two Vice leaders of Emerald Trace, and the man I obliterated earlier is Jekyl the Vice Leader of Vesaragon.
Before I knew it, I was standing in front of EleBolt once again, only this time, Brenden was behind me, wearing an expression of confusion and anger.
Emilia, with tear-stained cheeks, was gathering the corpses of our lost family, with the exception of my Father, whom I had arranged to look as if he were sleeping.
Grabbing hold of that primal sensation I kept feeling when forcing my will on these people, I spoke.
"Speak, tell me everything; I want to know WHY!"
The reaction I got was instant, and EleBolt began spinning a tale, one which involved Brenden, Emilia, and my Father's rise to power and how it threatened their positions in the USA-HA.
From there, he mentioned the plan to attack had been in the works since we had all registered our Hero Licenses. The appearance of three brand new potential Pro-Rankers threatened the foundation the previous rankers were working to build, but that wasn't the whole story.
The last straw was the gains my family had obtained from the latest Perm-Instance dive. Brenden and Emilia had found a lot of rare and expensive resources, causing the group of six heroes to become overly jealous.
When the Villians struck, the idea manifested into reality, and they knew now would be their only chance to get away with the massacre and robbery unscathed since all eyes would be diverted.
Had they succeeded, the death of my family would have been chalked up to the Villains, and we would have been turned into martyrs for the cause.
The deeper in detail EleBolt went, the angrier Brenden and I got until we hit a breaking point and began beating the immobilized man.
When we finally had our fill of the beating, the majority of his bones had been snapped, broken, or fractured in some way or another, he had sustained HEAVY internal injuries, and his face was unrecognizable.
It was only when he was on the cusp of death that I stopped myself and Brenden before uttering another command.
"You will tell me everything I want to know, your identities, all of them, names, addresses, family members; I also want the names of EVERY SINGLE INDIVIDUAL WHO HAD A HAND IN THIS DAY!" Ignoring the blood coating all my exposed skin and clothing, I grabbed the man by the throat and flared my power again.
Like the previous times, EleBolt was unable to fight my authority, and 40 minutes later, I had every ounce of information I wanted and more…not to mention, as a final act, Brenden stomped on his head using the full extent of his Talent, popping it like a watermelon.
When everything was said and done, we had exacted partial revenge for the deaths of my siblings, nieces, and Father, but still…it wasn't enough…it would never bring them back; I wanted to make them all pay; every single hero who knew about this incident or had plotted against us NEEDED to pay.
The Events of the Perm-Instance terror attack had a far-reaching and everlasting effect on society. It proved just how big of a threat to the status quo the Villains had become.
The death toll in Atlanta was devastatingly high; millions of people lost their lives that day, and the structural damage the City and surrounding areas sustained was something unseen before.
Yet it was neither of these subjects that became the focal point of the media frenzy in the following days; no, instead, it was the deaths of several Pro-Rankers and Guild leaders.
Their loss was something felt by the general public on a fundamental level, considering they were practically idolized, leading the USA-HA to immortalize them in the form of several expensive statues and some flowery words.
Meanwhile, in Orlando, Florida, in BarkLawn Cemetery, Brenden and I stood around a freshly dug plot of land…my father's resting place.
BarkLawn was a relatively young cemetery by modern standards, with the oldest graves and crypts only being from the early 19th century; however, for us, it was better known as the end of the line for the Jörgensen Family.
Three generations of Jörgensens were buried here; my father was now with his siblings, parents, and grandparents…two children and three granddaughters.
It was just me and Brenden now.
The loss of a loved one is never easy, no matter how f***ed up you are in the head, myself included; when there is someone who has spent an entire lifetime being a pillar of support for you, it will inevitably affect you in some shape or form.
In my case, while the loss of my other family members weighed on me, it couldn't hold a candle to what I felt as Brenden and I buried our father.
We had been here multiple times over the years, the most recent being in 2023, when not only my uncle, whom I had lived with for two years, Gideon Lawrence Jörgensen, 83 years of age, but also my Aunt, who helped raise us after my mother abandoned the family, Penelope Gail Jörgensen 78 years of age, passed away suddenly.
Overall, the funeral home and burial grounds were beautifully maintained. Open fields, slight hills of vibrant green grass, and a large lake were some of the prominent features of BarkLawn.
Standing side by side, Brenden and I followed our family traditions, with the first being vitally important.