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DATE:10th of June, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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I woke up in the hospital next to Sasha. Two days in a row here. The councilor was bandaged all around. Apparently even LifeWeaver's reconstruction had it's limits.
She was still unconscious so I called a nurse to get the doctor so I can leave. He probably wants an explication for the woman's state.
I turned on the TV for the first time in weeks when light flooded the room, accompanied by today's headline:
"BubbleTV bombed today in terrorist attack" What?! I was surprised, not because that company was UltraMan's former job, but because it was owned by a powerful magnate Silvian Morris. He has contracts with many heroes to defend his proprieties, but surprisingly UltraMan wasn't one of them.
"Mordo and his legion are restarting their war with terror." Mordo was a former hero turned villain. He wanted to free the world of the shackles of democracy? Or was it capitalism? Or did he want to free the superheroes and enslave humanity? He didn't have an actual ideology from what I knew.
His legion was his response to UltraMan's league, but he wasn't that active since the legend beat him into a pile of broken bones. Even I heard of how bad he was defeated and I don't usually listen to the news. Him being back means that Superior woman is having a hard time keeping the villains in check. I wouldn't be surprised with Lilliam, one of her greatest potential helpers, wasting her time in this Academy. Did she perhaps think Alice wasn't fit emotionally? Because if so she would be right, I don't think she is that smart...
Gosh it took quite a while for the doctor to arrive. I thought about how Sasha almost killed this self of mine. Who was that creature in my mind? 'What was' would be more correct.
And unraveling her skin? Peeling it like some vegetable? What kind of being is capable of doing that? It feels like I've been pulled into some eldritch horror story....
Whatever.
Eventually John decided to get his lazy ass here. I wasn't sure if he was angry or confused, but the whole situation might have been strange from his perspective. He did pick up the woman from her own counseling office.
"So how exactly did this came to be?"
"I don't have much to say... Sasha tried to enter my mind, but was attacked by something inside it."
"What something?" I don't really understand his question.
"As in I don't know what. If a psyker like her got hurt it must have been even stronger. Or she was weaker than we thought...."
"How do you even know of her powers" what? Oh shit! I forgot that she technically wouldn't have told me. It may be the case that what I saw over there was just my mind rationalizing what it saw and her perspective would be totally different.
"She told me? Why? Was it a great secret?" From his face it certainly was one. Damn.
Suddenly the girl comes to life;
"-Demon! A demon is inside of him!" What? Piss off Sasha, I don't need any more problems. John hurried to her side and stopped her from moving anymore. Her skin was probably still weak.
"What do You mean Sasha?"
"He is cursed! Heretic! William is a monster!" I should have just let the thing kill her. Is this what I get for trying to be nice? Bitch.
" Stop exhagerating. Demons aren't real"
" What are you, an Atheist?" I probably shouldn't have said that...
" I am a realist Will, how can I just believe a demon cursed you?"
" He is cursed! He.... That thing tortured me so much...;"
" Except it was me who begged it to let you go." Luckily Sasha seemed to shut up after I told her this revelation
"I wanted to think otherwise, but you are a killer! Cursed by so many souls. So many of them, execrating your existence... I thought we were the same... Who the hell are you?" This is why I despise people who have fantesies of reality. What? She thought I was a victim of other's war? She thought I lost my family like her? I wish I had such a nice fate like her cozy life at the Academy. Who was her to judge me?
But I don't care about that. What annoyed me was the Doctor in the room, not surprised at all. It seems he came to the same conclusion like the girl. But I wouldn't go down here!
"What do you even know about Trauma Sasha that you judge me? Have you thought that it was perhaps just you not being strong enough to take on my burden?" That seemed to startle her. That was a good start.
" Do you remember what you told me? That I wouldn't be alone anymore? You touched my mind and exploded. And you wonder why I didn't want you to try it?" I raised on my feet and went next to the doctor to look at her myself.
" Let me ask just like you did, who are you to take on my curses? Since when were we the same? Only you said that. You and Alice are always on this bullshit that we are similar. Since when? Never! At absolutely no time did we assimilate. Not even a little!" Well that was a bit much. I could feel the doctor contract his muscles and I didn't want to get my ass whooped in a hospital.
" Have you thought that I may just have a broken mind? I won't lie, I abused drugs all my life. How do you expect to understand me when neither do I?"
" W-what made you like this?" Ah, that was an easy one! Let's wrap this one.
I looked at the doctor and told him to leave, but I was sure he was listening outside.
"Chasing an untenable dream. What do you know of a life where you are constantly compared to your relative, yet you can never compete? You say you had no one, but wasn't the Academy a family? Why do you think I shared more love with my parents? And when I left to pursue my goal, just like that relative of mine, do you think I had any success? No.
All my life I failed. I was on the run, isolated, untrusted. What do you know about such a life? How can you ever say we are similar. Get your head out of those fantasies Sasha, this is real life." That one was very important.
"H-huh?! What do you mean by that? I never said it was."
"I don't love you Sasha. In the first place your feelings are unfounded, based on a false creation of " who you thought I was"."
"I never said I loved you."
"Do you take me for a fool? Or do you expect me to believe that you treat all of the people you "cure" like that?" She didn't respond, but I wasn't done with my offensive. I took her bandaged hand and did an ultimate move.
" In the first place how does a girl who never left the Academy become it's councilor." I got closer so that I could whisper it in the dry tone she deserves. " How does someone without any life experience expect to judge the character of others?" Then I raised back and made its conclusion.
" Or do you expect that memorizing some books, being intellectually talented or even having an inhuman power in this regard make you capable of it? No, not at all."
She wanted to say something, but stopped herself.
" Or do you think that you are able? But with that logic every all powerful hero can be like UltraMan, with a good heart, thinking about the citizens above all... If having a similar power makes you like him then how come UltraMan is the exception and not the rule?" She still didn't respond.
" Don't you understand? You are a hypocrite. Who are you to judge what I lived through?" It was as if her mouth was turned to stone. That wasn't the case. I could see tears forming between her bandages. She was trying to keep herself from crying.
It was a job well done, a total win. My strategy to change the subject stunned her. I wanted to leave, but then I remember something.
"And... You called me a killer? If I wanted to kill you would I have saved you from that monster you speak of? Or would I then call John to get you to the hospital? Wouldn't I just leave you to bleed off? To die? If I was a killer wouldn't that have been my choice? When I wouldn't even be suspected? This unwinding of flesh you suffered is not part of my ability. Who would place blame on me? Wouldn't I have been the surviving victim?" I could hear her whimper.
"You really think I am a killer? Why didn't I kill you then? Answer me that!" It felt very suffocating in the room, but that was good. It meant I was winning.
By the time I left the room Sasha let go of her emotions. It may seem manipulative, but it is totally effective. If she is stunned by her own ineptitude, how can she ever think to blame me? This was a skill.... I actually don't remember who I learned it from. I wanted to say the Changeling, but we Interacted too little for me to know much about him.
I wanted to leave alone as that would make more of a statement, but I didn't have any money on me to order a taxi so I was at the mercy of my Black King. Or, I could call upon Alice! Yeah, that is a better idea.
I lock eyes with John on the hallway. It seems like he was disappointed with himself. That is good. After getting a few quarters from him I went to the public telephone to call the dreadful girl.
She arrived surprisingly quickly. I more or less explained to her what happened, ommiting the whole killer part and we left together. For once her strange optimism played into my favour as she felt bad about my traumatic experience. Haaah, if only Sasha would understand...
I was very confused about the Doctor. Sure, the councilor may have looked into my mind, but why would he suspect me of being a murderer? He certainly didn't question my identity so what was the problem? The only possible reason I can think about is the Vampire thing?
But why? Wouldn't I just be defending myself? Or, no way, that is so dumb! The doctor may be suspicious of my skill. It is true, I killed her by stabbing the three most important arteries. But that is extremely stupid. To make sure she dies I stabbed her multiple times at each place. There should be no trace of precision in that movement. Furthermore, they aren't a secret or anything like that. Anyone can U-Search them.
Was it that he thought Sasha confirmed his suspicions? Then perhaps his disappointed state was him being sad for doubting me. I sure hope that is the case.
I then thought of another matter. I should probably have someone train me into martial arts. Not that I don't have combat training, but Will Carter Jr. Wouldn't, or at least it would be a stretch for him to have. As much as I hated the idea, Alice was the best option. I certainly wouldn't take any class with Mr Perfect.
She really liked that idea, going on about how it felt like she was finally a mentor or something like that. I get the idea that she would have liked to be in UltraMan's shoe. What is important is that I not have an excuse for my skill.
Alice also reminded me of the upcoming tournament exam. I suppose I never went into detail about it, but that is mostly because I don't care about it. The exam is something of a test for the student where they mostly grade combat ability.
Judging by the fact that 80% of the heroes exist just to fight it is kind of important as an evaluation. It helps them get recruited by agencies if that is what they wished for.
When we returned to the Academy I decided to take a stroll to calm myself. My body's exhaustion certainly hadn't been lifted by yesterday's events.
As I was going around the school, I see one student fighting five or so. I think they were Sylvia's goons?
Technically being a teacher I got closer to them, but not to stop them. I wanted to see their fight. What better television is there?
The alley is narrow, with walls rising on either side, casting long shadows under the faint glow of streetlights. The five delinquents form a semi-circle around the lone boy, grinning confidently, each radiating with the raw energy of their powers. The air is thick with tension, as the fight is moments away from exploding.
The one who seemed like leader, is a fire manipulator. I'll call him boy A His arms are wreathed in flames, flickering brightly in the dim alley. He smirks as he throws a blazing fireball at the lone student, boy S. He in turn dives to the side, rolling on the ground just in time, the heat licking at their back. A laughs as his flames grow hotter, turning the walls a scorching red. His arrogance makes him reckless, sending a torrent of fire that the "hero" deftly dodges by darting behind a dumpster. Then I got bored.
Who knew kids fighting would get old so fast?
As I was about to leave one of the thugs calls out to me. Glancing back, the line kid was beating the hell out of them. I think he had a superpower about momentum.
"Hey, aren't you going to stop this fight?"
"Why would I care?" He didn't seem to like hearing that. Then boy A was sent near my feet, the punch having broken his nose. He was really pissy about it too.
"What the fuck!? You just let him do that?"
"What exactly is stopping you from running away? You just don't want to embarrass yourself." Angry, the boy wanted to burn me, but I kicked his broken nose before he got the chance. He then went on about how "they" will hear of it.
"What are you going to do? Snitch me to the Dean? Retard."
It appeared like student S was about done with the Delinquents as they ran away followed by A.
The boy....Man? Stood tall in the dimly lit alley, his athletic frame tense with readiness. Around 18 years old, he had a commanding presence for someone his age, shaped by years of intense training at the superhero academy. His sharp features reflected his steely resolve; his dark eyes were focused, constantly scanning the scene for threats and opportunities. A faint scar ran along his right cheek, a souvenir from some past battle. Soo edgy!
His hair was short, dark, and slightly tousled from the fight, with a few strands falling over his forehead. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow, but his expression remained calm and calculated. He breathed steadily, his muscles taut, but not exhausted. He didn't struggle that much in this 1v5.
"Good job!"
"Why do you care?" He disregarded my praise and went on to leave the alley. Wow, that certainly frustrated me! I didn't place being ignored by my student in the teacher arc bingo. Him and Sasha too, why does everyone give themselves so much important? But I suppose he was right in a way. I really didn't care about teaching his class.
Getting a call from Alice, it seems like she got us a room to fight in. I dressed in some gym clothes and went to the underground facility.
The sparring room was dimly lit, the only sounds being the soft shuffle of feet on the padded floor and our rhythmic breathing. I stood on one side, a man with a lean, wiry frame, my movements calculated and fluid. My past had shaped me into a master of precision—every strike, every parry executed with lethal intent, honed through years of operating in the shadows. Of course, I couldn't actually use these skills. In front of me was the hero.
The younger girl had a power far surpassing mine. Each of her strikes hurt like a truck. Despite her strength, there was a lightness to her movements, a balance between power and grace that made her unpredictable. Her confidence was clear in the way she moved, with an effortless ease that suggested she had the upper hand.
I darted forward, aiming a series of quick strikes at her midsection, but she met me with calm precision, deflecting each blow with minimal effort. Her strength was evident in how she absorbed my hits, barely budging as she redirected my attacks with swift, measured blocks. She countered with a powerful kick aimed at my chest, the force behind it enough to send most opponents flying. But I had one advantage. With years of experience, I twisted away just in time, though I could feel the air shift from the speed of her strike.
I tried to close the distance again, launching into a flurry of fast punches and kicks, relying on my agility to keep up. Yet every time I thought I had an opening, she was already a step ahead. She moved with a sense of calm dominance, reading my attacks before they even landed. She wasn't just relying on brute force—though she clearly could—but was matching my skill and surpassing it with her sheer physical superiority.
At one point, I managed to sweep her leg, attempting to knock her off balance, but she barely faltered. She pivoted smoothly, using the momentum to spin into a counterattack, landing a heavy fist against my guard that sent me staggering back. The impact reverberated through my still exhausted arms, and I knew if she had landed a clean hit, it could have ended the match right then.
Despite her clear advantage, the my face remained impassive. It's not like I was scared. I wasn't intimidated by her strength. I could feel my muscles giving out, while she seemed to be holding back, as if she hadn't yet tapped into her full potential.
With a final surge of effort, the I lunged again, attempting to outmaneuver her with a rapid series of feints and strikes. But the young hero remained unshaken, her movements precise and powerful. She ducked beneath my punch, and in a blur of motion, swept me off his feet with a single, fluid kick.
I hit the mat, breathing hard, my chest rising and falling quickly. She stood over my body, her stance solid and unyielding, yet there was no arrogance in her expression—only quiet confidence. Alice offered me a hand to help him up, a faint smile playing on her lips.
I obviously took it, pulling myself to her level. "You're stronger than you look," I said with a steady voice, though my pride had taken a hit.
Alice smiled, a lightness in her tone. "And you're faster than I expected." There was mutual respect between us, an unspoken acknowledgment of our different but equally formidable skills. At least that is how she saw it. To me.... It was a herculian task to try to rival her.
I don't think I even made her put half of her real strength.
We returned together to the dorms, all sweaty. I wanted to take a shower, but I realized I couldn't find my shampoo. Alice said it was in her room. Did she borrow it?
We went there, and was greeted by a somewhat clean place for once. The girl insisted I should sit down to talk some more about Wednesday's events. By that point I was barely even aware about what was happening.
Sometime in between her crying and hugging she kissed me? Then we had sex? I wasn't really aware of these events, they kind of just happened. I was so tired my body went into some kind of instinctual mode.
Did she get me here on purpose, knowing I wouldn't be able to resist physically? I don't think so....
Her stamina was insane and I lost my conscience not long after we finished.
That night I slept remarkably well.