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DATE:7th of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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I was jolted awake by the sound of a patient table being rushed past my room. The chaotic noise faded quickly, leaving the room in an eerie silence.
Looking around, everything seemed normal at first. To my left, SuperiorWoman lay on the bed, her jaw tightly bound by a medical brace. She looked nothing like the unshakable figure I was used to, her strength replaced by fragile stillness.
On my right was Alice, dressed in a hospital gown. She was slicing an apple with methodical precision, her movements slow and deliberate. Her red and puffy eyes gave her away—she'd cried herself to sleep at some point.
I tried to stay quiet, hoping not to disturb her, but she noticed me immediately. Her gaze met mine, and before I could say anything, she stood, walked over, and hugged me.
It caught me off guard. Her grip was firm, almost desperate, like she needed it more than I did.
"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, handing me a set of clothes that clearly didn't belong to me—probably borrowed from John.
"Fine enough," I said, though my voice was hoarse.
She stepped back, her expression unreadable. "I'm going to get dressed. We shouldn't occupy these beds if we're not hurt."
Her tone was practical, almost detached, as if nothing had happened the day before. It was strange, disconcerting even. Had she truly forgotten? Or was this her way of coping?
I didn't press her.
We dressed and met again at the reception. Alice, still wearing hospital-issued shorts despite the chill in the air, led the way to the bus station without a word.
The ride back to her apartment was silent, her focus locked on the road outside. I didn't try to break it. Whatever this was—this eerie calm—it wasn't the time to shatter it.
But as I sat beside her, I couldn't help but wonder: Was this her way of suppressing everything, or was she just biding her time?
At her apartment, Alice surprised me by pulling out a stack of old DVDs. She held them up with an odd mix of enthusiasm and tension, insisting we watch them together. The titles revealed it was an old movie trilogy about the Knights of Boc—a crusader order that still exists today, controlling Helvetia, a small but strategically significant territory sandwiched between southern Normandia, Ventia, and Baden, a region of the Stochk Confederacy.
I couldn't help but think about the order's strange existence. They've ruled Helvetia for centuries, granted the land as a reward for their performance during the Crusades when the Confederacy was still an empire. They still maintain their grip on the region, acting as pseudo-nobles with an almost mythological air.
The Knights of Boc are famous, particularly in Ventia. Stories of their exploits—real and exaggerated—are everywhere. This trilogy, however, focused on one specific tale: a man who rose from obscurity to become a knight, then ascended to grandmaster of the order in just ten years.
The central narrative revolved around the so-called "Spear of Destiny," which the protagonist supposedly found and used to slay a dragon. Neither the spear nor the dragon was ever confirmed to exist, but the legend persisted. The knights claim to hold both in separate fortresses in Helvetia, alongside countless other relics they've hoarded over the centuries.
I couldn't say no to her request. After everything, refusing felt… wrong.
So we settled in and watched the trilogy. The grainy visuals and overacted dialogue pulled me into a world I knew all too well through Ventian folktales. Alice sat beside me, gradually leaning closer until we were practically cuddling.
The warmth of her body against mine felt surreal. After everything that had happened—the confrontation, the revelations, her tears—I couldn't make sense of this. Was this her way of forgiving me? Or was she simply masking her emotions, unsure of how to process it all?
As I glanced at her during a dramatic scene where the knight brandished the spear, her expression was calm but distant. Whatever she was thinking, she wasn't sharing it with me.
For now, I had no choice but to follow her lead. Maybe she wouldn't kill me after all. Or maybe this was just a temporary truce. Either way, I leaned back and let the story of knights, spears, and dragons fill the silence between us.
Or so I thought. She kept glancing at me during the movie, interrupting every so often to ask what I thought of Sir Gerard Lefans and his actions. Her eagerness to talk surprised me—she wasn't just watching the films for nostalgia. She seemed deeply invested in the story and wanted to share that passion.
"It's different from the book I read about Gerard when he was younger," I said at one point, carefully weighing my words.
Her face lit up with curiosity. "How so?"
"For one," I began, "in the original story, Gerard doesn't get invited to become a knight. That scene where the Grandmaster blesses him as a chosen warrior? Pure dramatization. In the book, he earns his place by winning a grueling tournament. It's supposed to emphasize his resilience and determination."
Alice nodded, biting into her apple. "Hmm, that does sound better. What about the Witch of Yesterday? Did she curse him in the book too?"
"Kind of," I replied, leaning forward. "The movie skipped a lot of details. In the original, Gerard doesn't confront her head-on like that. When she tries to curse him, he actually runs. He lures her into an ambush at dawn, and sunlight kills her—it's supposed to show that even knights need cunning, not just brute force."
Alice furrowed her brow. "So... no child bait in the book?"
I shook my head. "No. That part's completely fabricated. In the movie, he sacrifices an innocent child to distract her and then stabs her with his longsword. It's... definitely a more brutal take on the story."
Her expression darkened slightly, and she leaned back into the couch, thinking it over. "I wonder why they changed so much. The book sounds more... noble."
"It does. But I guess the filmmakers wanted to make Gerard look more ruthless. Or maybe just to appeal to modern audiences who like their heroes flawed."
Alice sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think I prefer the book's version. Gerard as a clever, resourceful knight feels more heroic than... this."
I nodded, unsure of how to navigate her sudden change in tone. "Yeah. The book definitely gave him more depth."
She didn't respond immediately, her gaze lingering on the screen as the next scene unfolded. Her passion for these stories was clear, but I couldn't help wondering if her questions had a deeper purpose. Was she gauging my thoughts on morality? Testing how I viewed heroism after everything that had happened?
For now, I kept my answers safe and neutral. If this was some kind of subtle probe, I wasn't going to give her any ammunition.
The rest of the evening passed in a peculiar quiet. Alice and I continued watching movies until the hour grew late, and I prepared a simple dinner: pasta and fish. The motions were mechanical, my mind elsewhere, but Alice seemed content as if nothing had happened.
Later, I refilled the cartridge from the kit the professor had given me, injecting the strange liquid with a syringe. The sensation was uncomfortable, not physically but psychologically—it was a reminder of things I didn't want to dwell on.
When we got into bed, I couldn't shake the unease settling over me. Alice, on the other hand, acted completely normal, slipping under the covers without a word. Nothing unusual occurred, but the strange energy lingered as I finally drifted into sleep.
---
It wasn't a restful sleep.
I was semi-conscious, caught in that surreal space between dreaming and waking. I sat on something cold, my body numb and unresponsive. My sense of touch was heightened, yet distant—hands covered my eyes, warm but unfamiliar.
More hands followed. They seemed to come from everywhere, ghostly fingers brushing my skin, some caressing as though in study, others dragging in slow, deliberate motions. I couldn't see them, but I felt every detail.
Voices echoed faintly in the background. A woman's voice, soft yet impossible to discern, floated just out of reach. It wasn't threatening, but neither was it comforting.
I stayed there for what felt like an eternity, immobilized by the strange sensation.
Eventually, my eyes opened.
Morning light streamed into the room, and I was back in bed. Alice was already awake, quietly moving about the space.
Just a dream, I told myself. But the lingering discomfort in my chest made me question that certainty.
When I finally pulled myself out of bed, I found Alice in the living room, sitting on the couch. She was eating cereal straight from the bowl and watching the morning news, her focus unwavering.
I noticed the screen immediately: the headlines were already covering what had happened in Taurinorum.
Before I could process much, Emily's voice buzzed through my earpiece. "The reporter is UltraMan's widow," she informed me, her tone devoid of emotion.
I didn't respond. It didn't feel necessary.
The broadcast continued, the reporter delivering the details with a professional detachment that only accentuated the strangeness of it all.
> "Donn Vicenzio de Balmundi was found dead in his base of operations near Taurinorum. While his death occurred on the same day the League of Concord raided the facility, having been informed it was an illegal weapons storage site for the black market, it is assumed the Donn was killed by one of his subordinates. The weapon was identified as a Ventian caliber pistol.
> His estate grieves the loss of their lord, as there is no one to inherit the title. However, the Donn was hardly uncontroversial.
> For years, rumors of his involvement in the black market have plagued Concord, though his immense influence kept any accusations from sticking.
> Regardless of the circumstances, yesterday marks a chaotic day for our city and perhaps an omen of greater unrest to come."
Alice didn't say anything about the news, continuing to eat her cereal in silence. I didn't comment either, unsure if her nonchalance was real or simply a defense mechanism.
I couldn't help but feel that the reporter's words, "an omen of greater unrest to come," held more weight than she likely intended.
"We should probably go check on Sarah," Alice said, breaking the silence.
"Right."
We quickly got dressed and caught a bus back to the hospital. As we rode in silence, I couldn't help but reflect on what little impact our intervention seemed to have had.
Sure, Donn Vicenzio de Balmundi was dead, but the estate would undoubtedly find an heir, even if it meant digging up some distant, non-noble Balmundi relative. I didn't care about the Donn, though. What mattered was that Sophie and I were supposedly done. Hopefully, she had vanished from my life for good.
His underground black market certainly wouldn't die just because he did. Vicenzio had many advisors that wouldn't accept to lose such an income stream. They just didn't have the legitimacy to fill his shoes. Every commercial hub was technically his fiefdom so they were non-transferable.
When we arrived at Sarah's room, the atmosphere was heavy. Sarah was sitting silently, her expression vacant, while a woman stood near her, shouting through tears.
"...You're a curse! He trusted you, and now he's gone!" the woman cried.
As we approached, the woman noticed us. She turned sharply toward Alice, her face contorted in rage.
"How dare you!" she spat, raising a hand to slap Alice.
I stepped forward, catching her wrist mid-swing.
"Move, lady," I said coldly before firmly guiding her out of the room. She muttered something under her breath but ultimately left, still seething.
Alice, shaken but steady, turned to Sarah. "Who was that?"
Sarah sighed, rubbing her temples. "Crusader's wife," she said softly. "She blames me for his death."
I frowned. That was absurd. She would really cry for that man? Maybe he wasn't so violent with her.
"She's out of her mind," I said. "He was the squad leader. He made his own decisions."
Sarah shook her head, looking even more drained. "She thinks I should have done something. But it's not like I could have stopped him."
"Of course you couldn't," Alice said, sitting down beside her. "He should have retreated the moment he saw Barryvard, but..."
"But he didn't," I finished for her. "Maybe he was caught in a trap. Maybe he made a bad call. Either way, it wasn't your fault, Sarah."
Sarah didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the wall. Alice reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. I leaned against the doorway, thinking.
"What are our losses?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.
Alice hesitated before responding. "I think about thirteen heroes. Ten more are out of action for the next few months."
The number hit harder than I expected. The heroes were weaker than I'd thought. Then again, a mercenary force with no abilities would've performed even worse. At least they were replaceable.
"General Foiçs, the one commanding the army that reinforced us, is furious," Sarah continued. "He's calling us barbarians, killers with no morals."
"But wouldn't the army have killed more people?" Alice asked, her voice tinged with frustration.
"Supposedly not. He's been pushing the narrative that they would've arrested everyone."
I scoffed. "The media's probably eating it up."
"They are," Sarah said. "And they don't fear me like they feared my cousin."
"That's really messed up," I muttered.
"That's Concord for you," Sarah said with a resigned shrug.
The frustration was building. The entire operation felt like a failure. I left the room, needing some space, and called Emily through the earpiece. "Have you found anything in the data files you copied?" I asked, pacing the hallway.
There was a pause before her voice came through, worried. "I... I found something big. Secundo Manus—he's involved in something massive. He's trying to clone someone. Codename: SuperiorMan."
I froze. "SuperiorMan?"
"Yes," Emily said. "It can only mean one thing: UltraMan. Secundo Manus is trying to recreate UltraMan."
A shiver ran down my spine. The implications were staggering—and horrifying.
Without hesitation, I reentered the room, my demeanor changed. Alice and Sarah looked up, confused. I pulled out the files Emily decrypted and presented them as something I'd stumbled upon.
"This wasn't a failure," I announced, my voice firm. "We've uncovered a major lead. Secundo Manus isn't just biding his time. He's playing a long game. He's trying to clone UltraMan."
The room fell into stunned silence. Even Sarah, who had been withdrawn, seemed to snap back to attention.
Sarah suddenly began shivering uncontrollably, her voice trembling as she exclaimed, "What?!"
Alice's expression darkened, her usual calm replaced by alarm. "Considering his control over the other subjects he experimented on…" she trailed off, hesitant to voice the thought aloud.
Alice quickly interjected, her tone unusually firm. "You don't have to finish. We need to stop Secundo Manus." Her rare seriousness made it clear she understood the gravity of the situation—how catastrophic a clone of UltraMan, her mentor, could be.
Sarah, however, was visibly breaking down. She hugged her knees to her chest, shaking her head. "No way… He can't clone him! He can't!"
I tried to stay calm, though I felt the weight of the revelation pressing on me. "It seems like he can. The files suggest the Donn was trying to sabotage his efforts. Secundo Manus has been planning this for years."
Sarah's voice cracked as she demanded, "How did you even find that out?!"
I hesitated, thinking quickly. "While we were in his office, I downloaded files onto my device," I said, skirting around Emily's involvement.
Sarah's panic turned to confusion. "Then why are you only looking at them now?"
I shrugged nonchalantly, as if the timing didn't matter. "I didn't think they were important at first. Turns out they were."
The room was tense, silent except for Sarah's trembling breaths. Alice clenched her fists, her eyes filled with determination. "We can't waste time. If Secundo Manus succeeds, there won't be a second chance to stop him."
Sarah nodded weakly, still pale but understanding the necessity of action. "If he really is trying to clone UltraMan… we have to stop him. No matter what."
Sarah clutched her head, her frustration boiling over. "Ahh, and the teams are in disarray now! Morale is at an all-time low, and I've been informed some of them are even thinking about leaving because of the risks!" Her voice trembled, fear evident.
Then she turned to me, desperation flashing in her eyes. "Will… won't you reveal your identity? You've done so much more than me. I-I… I'm sure they'd respect you."
The room fell silent. I glanced at Alice, whose expression said it all: disapproval. I understood why. If she truly remembered everything that happened and wasn't just pretending yesterday, then stepping into the position of leadership in Kevin's organization would look… grotesque. Taking over the mantle of the man I'd killed? Even I could see how wrong that looked.
"No, Sarah," I said firmly. "Kevin would have wanted you to succeed him. What did I even do?"
Her voice cracked as she responded. "Y-you? What do you mean? You've only been a hero for a month, and you've already taken down two Combine lieutenants, managed to retrieve that briefcase, took down Biz... And the Donn! John told me you would've never reached him otherwise..."
Her hands began to shake as she continued, her voice strained. "What did I do in that time? Go to three galas? Attend two book openings? A movie screening? I'm a terrible administrator. I got saddled with all this paperwork, made mistake after mistake, which just created more work for everyone else… I… I can't do this."
"Come on, Sarah," Alice said gently, leaning in and stroking her head. But Sarah pushed her away with her bandaged hand, trembling even more.
"I… I'm scared, Alice. All this stress! I'm just not made for it!"
I leaned against the wall, silently observing the breakdown. It made me realize something strange: was there really no contingency plan in place for Kevin's death? Then again, considering how invincible he seemed, it kind of made sense.
I wanted to say I felt bad for Sarah, but I'd be lying. I didn't care one bit. Watching her unravel like this only deepened my cynicism about the so-called hero culture.
And yet… I found myself distracted, thinking about Alice. Did I care about her for more than the sex? Was our relationship just built on carnal pleasure? A year ago, I would've said yes without hesitation. But now, I wasn't so sure.
There were moments—rare, fleeting ones—when I felt something. When I let my guard down. Like that time I cried in her arms, a vulnerability I hadn't shown in years. What was that? A fluke? Or something more?
I sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Why not Alice?"
Both of them froze, staring at me like I'd just suggested something out of pocket. Alice's surprise was written all over her face, while Sarah looked utterly baffled.
"Definitely not," Sarah said emphatically, her voice tinged with frustration. "Even more than me, she's seen as Kevin's apprentice. They wouldn't respect her."
Alice scratched the back of her neck, nodding in agreement. "She's not wrong," Alice said quietly, though she avoided meeting my gaze. I hadn't expected her to be so self-aware.
Then Sarah reached out, grabbing my sleeve with her bandaged hand. "Please, Will. If you don't want to be the head, at least become a team captain."
"Wasn't Alice my captain?" I asked, genuinely confused.
Sarah frowned. "No? When we left Nimbus on his own and he was reassigned, we were basically unassigned."
"Ah," I muttered, scratching my head awkwardly.
Her grip tightened on my sleeve. "Please, Will. You have a resourcefulness that I just don't. I... I can't handle this alone."
I sighed deeply, slipping her hand off my arm, though her desperation lingered. "Fine," I said at last. "I'll be a captain, Sarah. But only to lighten your burden."
Tears welled up in her eyes almost immediately, her lips trembling as she tried to form words. Alice rushed to her side, grabbing a tissue and gently dabbing Sarah's face.
"Thank you," Sarah choked out, her voice breaking. "I really mean it."
I didn't respond, just crossed my arms and looked away. For her, it probably felt like a moment of salvation. For me, it was just another obligation to carry forward.
I should probably run away. But what the hell could I even do? If UltraMan really comes back and he has his memories... I needed to stop that. He could hunt me to the edge of the earth.
We left Sarah to rest, wandering through the bustling hospital in search of John. Alice nudged my shoulder lightly.
"Good job on your promotion, Mr. Head Honcho," she teased with a sly grin.
I flinched at the unexpected jab. "Yeah, tell me about it."
The hospital hallways were crowded with people, some injured and bandaged, others moving with grim determination. The Combine's violence seemed to reach even here.
As I turned a corner, a pink-haired girl leaning against a shelf grabbed my sleeve to steady herself.
"It's you," she said, her voice faint but certain.
"Who?" I stared at her blankly, trying to place her face.
Alice, however, lit up, rushing to hug the girl. "Amiya! How are you?"
The girl smiled weakly, leaning into Alice's embrace.
Alice turned to me, curious. "How do you two know each other?"
Amiya answered before I could. "He helped me up once when I fell, about a month ago."
I blinked, vaguely remembering the incident. "You remembered me just from that?"
Amiya gave a small laugh. "Who else wears a full shirt in the middle of summer?"
I scratched the back of my head, ready to explain they were John's clothes, but Alice giggled, and Amiya joined in.
"Ha, I'm just good with faces," Amiya added.
Alice's tone turned gentle. "How are you feeling?"
Amiya's smile faltered. "About the same."
I raised a brow. "You two know each other?"
Alice nodded enthusiastically. "We were classmates at Zenik back in the day."
I crossed my arms, chuckling. "Really? I thought Amiya was a high schooler."
The air in the room shifted, the lightness draining away. Amiya's expression darkened as she spoke. "I should probably explain that... inside."
She led us to her room, just across the hallway. Inside, she gestured for us to sit while she perched on her bed.
"You see," Amiya began hesitantly, "my superpower is a sort of telekinesis. But… it has a side effect. Every time I use it, my body gets younger."
"Younger?" I echoed, confused.
"Not all at once," she clarified, her voice trembling. "It happens in parts. Sometimes smaller sections, sometimes larger. Random cells, sometimes entire groups. At first, no one noticed. But by the time we realized… most of my organs were almost at a breaking point."
She fell silent, unable to continue. Alice finished for her, her voice soft. "The process had already caused irreparable damage."
Amiya sniffled, wiping her eyes quickly and forcing a smile. "At least I'm alive. Some heroes… their powers kill them outright."
I didn't know what to say. Her story was devastating, and my usual cynicism felt out of place. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
Amiya smiled faintly, her voice kind despite the weight of her words. "It's okay. You couldn't have."
I nodded, though the heaviness in the room lingered. Her struggle was a grim reminder of how much some people paid for their powers.
Boooring.
Like seriously. Don't I suffer for this damned ability? To be on drugs? Maybe the dreams come from them and all this bullshit is breaking my mind! Ehh. That was harsh.
Even still the only thing I can remember about this girl is how little importance I gave her.
Was I supposed to feel bad?
Amiya tilted her head curiously, glancing between me and Alice. "So, how did you two meet?"
Alice's expression shifted slightly, her tone turning colder. "At Kevin's funeral."
Amiya's eyes widened, and she quickly looked down. "Oh… I'm so sorry for asking."
Alice softened and waved it off. "It's alright. That day was… eventful. But honestly, if it wasn't for that, he and I probably never would have met."
Amiya brightened a little, nodding. "Well, it sounds like something good came out of it, at least."
Alice took a moment to tell her how I'd just been made a team captain, and Amiya's eyes sparkled with admiration. "Wow, that's amazing! Congratulations! You're moving up so quickly!"
Her enthusiasm was infectious, but I decided to play it cool, feigning embarrassment. "Oh, come on, it's not that big a deal. I'd have preferred if Alice was chosen instead. She's the real hero."
Alice gave me a sharp look, but her lips quirked into a small smile. "Don't try to dodge responsibility now. You've got to step it up, Captain."
I chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of my head, before tapping Alice on the shoulder. "Why don't you catch up with Amiya for a while? I'll go look for John."
She nodded, giving Amiya a reassuring smile before I turned and headed down the hallway.
Navigating through the maze of hospital corridors, I eventually found John's room. The air inside carried a sterile chill, but the sight before me made it feel heavy.
John lay on the bed, propped up slightly, his body covered in bandages and scar tissue. The doctors had struggled to remove the suit that had fused with his skin, but rumors said he had operated on himself for six hours to finish the job.
As I entered, he noticed me and struggled to sit up straighter. His movements were slow and painful, but his sharp eyes found mine.
"You look surprisingly intact," he remarked dryly, his voice rasping from fatigue.
I shrugged. "Don't let appearances fool you. My ribs feel like a punching bag, and I'm covered in bruises."
He smirked faintly, but it faded quickly. "I've realized I'm not much of a fighting hero, despite my physical strength. You've seen how it turned out."
"That's not true." I stepped closer, my tone firm. "If it weren't for you stabilizing Sarah, she'd be dead. And you were dizzy and barely holding on yourself."
John seemed taken aback by my words. He averted his eyes, his expression conflicted.
"You should be proud of that," I added.
He exhaled slowly, leaning back against the bed. "Proud, huh? Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it when you wake up like this."
"Well," I said, leaning against the wall, "being a hero isn't about feeling great after every fight. It's about what you accomplish. You saved someone important. That's more than most can say."
John's lips curled into a faint, tired smile. "I guess you're right."
The weight of his exhaustion filled the silence between us, but his expression seemed lighter now, even if only by a fraction.
After spending some time with John, I left his room, judging it was about time.
I made my way back to find Alice. She was still seated with Amiya, the two of them chatting quietly. The atmosphere was lighter than I expected, a welcome change. Amiya noticed me first, offering a small wave.
Alice turned, her face lighting up for a moment before she stood. "Done checking in on John?"
"Yeah," I said, glancing at Amiya. "Figured it was time to head out. We've got a lot to do tomorrow."
Amiya smiled. "It was nice talking with both of you. And, Captain... good luck with the new team."
I gave a polite nod. "Thanks. Take care of yourself."
Alice and I said our goodbyes before stepping out into the cool evening air. As we walked, I couldn't shake the weight of everything from today—the responsibilities ahead, the cracks forming in our world, and the people relying on us.
"Today, we sleep early," I said, breaking the silence. "We'll need to be at our best for tomorrow. Meeting the new members, earning their trust... it's going to be a long day."
Alice glanced at me, her tone teasing but not unkind. "Planning to knock someone out to make a point, Captain?"
I smirked but didn't reply. If a duel was necessary to establish order, so be it.
That night, I slept better than I expected.-*-*-*-*