"...and eyewitnesses report the mysterious hero known only as 'Rumor' was seen working alongside Guardian member Shimmer to contain the dimensional anomaly at New Harbor University last night. This marks the third confirmed appearance of the new vigilante, who first gained attention after confronting the Viper Gang at The Crossroads Market two weeks ago..."
Max turned up the volume on the battered radio as he prepared for his morning deliveries. The news report continued, describing the university incident with a mixture of factual reporting and wild speculation that had become typical of stories about his alter ego.
"...sources close to the Guardian Tower suggest Rumor possesses multiple abilities, including enhanced strength, speed, and now apparently Shimmer's phase-shifting powers. Guardian representatives have declined to comment on whether the new hero is officially affiliated with their organization..."
"Enjoying your press?" came a dry voice from the doorway.
Max jumped, nearly knocking over his cup of instant coffee. Mrs. Chen stood in his open doorway, looking exactly as she always had—silver hair in its immaculate bun, practical clothes perfectly arranged, ornate hairpins catching the morning light. It was almost impossible to reconcile this unassuming elderly woman with the interdimensional refugee she'd claimed to be last night.
"You should knock," he grumbled, turning down the radio.
"I did. Twice." She entered without waiting for an invitation, carrying a worn leather book similar to the one she'd shown him previously. "You were distracted by your admirers."
Max felt heat rise to his cheeks. "I was just getting the news."
"Of course." Her knowing smile suggested she didn't believe him for a second. "And what does the news tell you about last night's events?"
"That Rumor helped Shimmer stop a dimensional anomaly," Max replied, shouldering his courier bag. "That he might be working with the Guardians. That he somehow has multiple powers."
"And how does this reporting affect you?" Mrs. Chen asked, setting the book on his small table.
Max paused, realizing what she was getting at. "I feel... stronger today. More confident." He flexed his hand experimentally. "The abilities from last night seem more stable."
"The power of collective belief," Mrs. Chen nodded. "As news spreads of Rumor's phase-shifting, that ability solidifies within you—despite being borrowed rather than innate."
"It's still weird to think about," Max admitted. "That what people believe about me literally changes what I can do."
"It's more than weird," Mrs. Chen said seriously. "It's unprecedented in my experience, even across multiple realities. Which is why I brought you this." She gestured to the book.
Max checked his watch. "I'm already late for my route—"
"Mr. Donovan's wrath can wait," she interrupted. "This is more important. Besides, he won't fire his famous courier."
"Famous?"
She raised an eyebrow. "The courier who faced down Shock is something of a local celebrity now, separate from your Rumor identity. Haven't you noticed people treating you differently?"
Now that she mentioned it, Max had received more smiles than usual on his recent deliveries, and several customers had specifically requested him for important packages. Even Randy had been less antagonistic lately.
"I thought that was just... I don't know, coincidence."
"There are few coincidences in a reality as malleable as yours has become," Mrs. Chen said, opening the book to a marked page. "Look at this."
Max leaned over to examine what appeared to be a handwritten journal entry in an elegant script he couldn't read. Accompanying the text was a detailed illustration of a human figure surrounded by concentric circles of symbols, with lines of energy connecting the figure to smaller human shapes around the perimeter.
"What is it?"
"Documentation of a Consensus Avatar from my world, over three hundred years ago," Mrs. Chen explained. "A being called 'The Voice,' who could manifest the abilities people believed their leader should possess."
Max studied the illustration more carefully. The central figure wore ornate robes and a crown-like headdress, arms outstretched toward the smaller figures.
"This was a king or something?"
"A spiritual guide during a period of crisis," Mrs. Chen corrected. "When a devastating plague swept through what would be equivalent to your Eastern Europe. As desperation grew, people's collective belief created a figure who embodied their hopes for salvation."
"Created?" Max repeated. "You mean this person didn't exist before people believed in them?"
Mrs. Chen hesitated. "The records are unclear. What's documented is that a previously unremarkable village healer suddenly manifested extraordinary abilities—healing powers, immunity to disease, even the capacity to purify contaminated water—all abilities the desperate population believed their savior should possess."
The parallel to Max's situation was obvious and unsettling. "What happened to them?"
"They successfully guided their community through the crisis," Mrs. Chen said. "But as the immediate danger passed and beliefs fractured, The Voice's abilities became unstable. Eventually, they simply... disappeared."
"Disappeared? As in died?"
"As in ceased to exist in their previous form," she clarified. "Some accounts suggest they reverted to their original identity with no memory of their time as The Voice. Others indicate a more complete dissolution of self."
Max felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. "You think that could happen to me? That I could just... stop existing if people stop believing in Rumor?"
"I don't know," Mrs. Chen admitted. "Your situation has differences. You existed with a clear identity before manifesting powers. The connection between Max Peterson and Rumor is more defined, more grounded in conventional reality."
That wasn't particularly reassuring. Max closed the book, suddenly eager to focus on his normal courier duties. "I need to get to work. We can talk about this later."
Mrs. Chen nodded, not pressing the issue. "One more thing before you go. The Guardian scientist, Mentis—be careful what you share with him."
"You don't trust him?" Max asked, surprised. Mentis had been nothing but helpful, if somewhat clinical, in their training sessions.
"I believe his intentions are good," Mrs. Chen said carefully. "But his perspective is limited by his scientific framework. He sees powers as phenomena to be studied and utilized, not as symptoms of deeper reality shifts."
"And that's dangerous?"
"It could be," she replied. "Especially regarding your unique abilities. If he views you primarily as a tool or an experiment, he may push for applications that destabilize rather than reinforce your identity."
Max thought about the increasingly complex training regimens Mentis had been designing, each one testing the limits of his ability to manifest new powers. "He does seem pretty focused on what I can do rather than who I am."
"Precisely." Mrs. Chen moved toward the door. "I'm not saying avoid him or reject his guidance. Just maintain your sense of self. Remember that you are Max Peterson first, Rumor second—not merely a vessel for others' expectations."
With that cryptic advice, she left, taking the mysterious book with her but leaving Max with far more questions than answers.
---
Harbor News was bustling when Max finally arrived, nearly an hour late for his shift. Couriers rushed in and out, loading bags with the morning edition, while inside, journalists and editors swarmed around desks covered with reports and photographs. Something big was happening.
Max tried to slip in unnoticed, but Mr. Donovan's uncanny sixth sense for tardy employees activated immediately.
"PETERSON!" The familiar bellow cut through the newsroom chaos.
Max winced, making his way to the dispatch desk where his boss stood, mustache quivering with what might have been irritation or excitement—it was often hard to tell the difference.
"I know I'm late, sir, but there was—"
"No time for excuses," Mr. Donovan interrupted, thrusting a stack of papers into Max's hands. "Special edition. The dimensional anomalies are all over the city now. Three more appeared overnight."
Max flipped through the pages, scanning the headlines. "REALITY RIFTS SPREADING: GUARDIAN RESOURCES STRETCHED THIN" screamed the main story, accompanied by photographs of the university incident and two other similar anomalies across New Harbor.
"Is it as bad as they're saying?" Max asked, remembering Mrs. Chen's warnings about reality degradation.
"Worse," Mr. Donovan said grimly. "The Guardians are running ragged trying to contain them. And word is, something's coming through some of these rifts—weird creatures, objects that shouldn't exist, even people claiming to be from other dimensions."
Max nearly dropped the papers. "People? From other dimensions?"
"That's the rumor," Mr. Donovan confirmed, not noticing Max's reaction. "Though we haven't confirmed any interviews yet. I've got stringers working all the hotspots."
This aligned disturbingly well with what Mrs. Chen had told him. If other dimensional refugees were arriving, the situation might be even more advanced than she'd suggested.
"Why the special edition? This seems like breaking news that could wait for tomorrow's regular paper."
Mr. Donovan's expression turned serious. "Because people need information now, not tomorrow. When weird holes start opening in reality, civilians need to know where they are, what to do if they see one, and who's handling the situation. That's what Harbor News does—provides reliable information when it matters most."
Despite his gruff exterior, Mr. Donovan took the newspaper's responsibility to the community seriously. It was one of the reasons Max respected him.
"So what's my route today?" Max asked, expecting the usual Guardian Tower assignment.
Mr. Donovan handed him a different dispatch sheet. "Change of plans. The Guardians have established emergency response centers throughout the city. You'll be delivering priority communications between them, plus the special edition to key locations."
Max scanned the list—five emergency response centers spread across New Harbor, from the docks to the Heights. It would be a challenging route even with his enhanced abilities.
"These are priority deliveries," Mr. Donovan emphasized. "Guardian communications take precedence over everything else. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Max replied, already mentally planning his route.
"And Peterson?"
"Sir?"
Mr. Donovan's expression softened fractionally. "Be careful out there. These anomalies are unpredictable. If you see one, don't play hero—just report it and keep moving."
Max nodded, touched by the gruff concern. "I'll be careful."
---
The streets of New Harbor pulsed with nervous energy. Citizens hurried about their business with wary eyes, constantly scanning the air for the telltale shimmer of dimensional anomalies. Emergency drones patrolled overhead, broadcasting safety protocols on constant loop.
Max's first stop was the dockside response center, a converted warehouse where Guardian support staff coordinated maritime containment efforts. The broken moon's gravitational effects had made the harbor a hotspot for anomalies emerging from the water.
As he approached the checkpoint, a familiar figure exited the building—Blockade, the force field specialist. Up close, the Guardian was even more imposing than he appeared on news feeds, his dark blue and gray armored uniform enhancing his already substantial frame. The touches of gray at his temples were the only indication of his age, his physical condition otherwise showing no signs of deterioration.
Max fumbled with his courier ID, suddenly nervous in the presence of an actual Guardian. "Delivery from Harbor News," he managed, holding out the package of communications and special edition papers.
Blockade regarded him silently, expression unreadable. Then, to Max's surprise, he nodded in recognition.
"Peterson. The courier from Guardian Tower." His voice was deep but unexpectedly soft, as if perpetually conserving energy.
"You remember me?" Max asked, startled.
"I remember everyone," Blockade replied simply. He accepted the package, examining the security seal with practiced efficiency. "You were present during the Shock incident. Showed unusual courage."
Max felt heat rise to his face. "Just poor judgment, honestly."
The corner of Blockade's mouth twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Sometimes there's little difference." He glanced at the package contents, then back at Max. "You're delivering to all response centers today?"
"Yes, sir. Mr. Donovan assigned me the Guardian route."
Blockade seemed to consider something. "The university center is understaffed. When you arrive, tell them Blockade says to brief you on anomaly recognition protocols. Could be useful on your routes."
"Thank you," Max said, surprised by the unexpected assistance. "I will."
Blockade nodded once more and strode away, his economical movements betraying none of the fatigue he must have been feeling after days of continuous emergency response.
As Max watched him go, a small crowd of dockworkers had gathered, pointing and whispering excitedly. The Guardian's presence had drawn attention—and now, by association, so had Max's. He could feel their eyes on him, hear fragments of their conversation.
"...that's the courier who..."
"...stood up to Shock at the Tower..."
"...braver than he looks..."
The now-familiar tingling sensation washed over Max's skin. Their perceptions strengthening his baseline abilities without them even realizing it. It was exactly as Mrs. Chen had described—his powers growing from casual belief separate from his Rumor identity.
Max hurried back to his bicycle, uncomfortable with the attention. As he pedaled away, he couldn't help testing the strength in his legs—pushing just a little faster than a normal human should be able to manage, taking corners with slightly enhanced reflexes.
It was becoming easier to access these abilities in his civilian identity, especially when people who recognized him were nearby. A concerning development if he wanted to maintain separation between Max Peterson and Rumor.
---
The university response center had been established in the physics building adjacent to the quadrangle where Max and Shimmer had contained the anomaly. The area remained cordoned off, researchers in protective gear taking readings from the scorched grass where the portal had collapsed.
Inside, Max found organized chaos—scientists and Guardian support personnel hurrying between workstations, holographic displays showing anomaly locations across the city, and at the center of it all, Mentis. The silver-haired Guardian stood perfectly still amid the movement, his blue scarf immaculate as always, his piercing eyes fixed on a complex data visualization.
Max approached cautiously, package in hand. "Delivery from Harbor News."
Mentis turned, recognition flickering in his eyes. "Mr. Peterson. Timely arrival." He accepted the package without comment on Max's courier identity, maintaining their public separation.
"Blockade suggested I should receive briefing on anomaly recognition protocols," Max said, keeping his voice casual. "For safety on my routes."
"Did he now?" Mentis raised an eyebrow fractionally. "Interesting initiative from Blockade. But prudent, given your frequent travels through the city."
He gestured to a nearby technician. "Provide Courier Peterson with the civilian anomaly briefing, please. Priority clearance."
The technician looked surprised but nodded. "Yes, sir. This way, Mr. Peterson."
Max followed her to a small briefing room where several other civilians—mostly emergency workers and utility technicians—were already gathered. A holographic display showed various forms of dimensional anomalies with accompanying warning signs and safety procedures.
"You're lucky," the technician said as she logged him into the system. "We don't usually brief couriers, but if Blockade and Mentis both approved it..."
"I cover the Guardian route," Max explained. "Probably why they made an exception."
The briefing was thorough and alarming. Max learned that dimensional anomalies fell into three categories: Stable (slow-growing tears that could be safely contained), Fluctuating (unpredictable portals that occasionally allowed passage between dimensions), and Critical (rapidly expanding rifts that would eventually collapse with destructive force).
Each type displayed distinctive visual and energy signatures, which the briefing detailed with scientific precision. Civilians were instructed to report any anomalies immediately and maintain minimum safe distances based on category.
What troubled Max most was the final section of the briefing, which addressed "Extradimensional Entities." The classification system categorized these beings on a scale from Class I ("Minimally sentient energy configurations") to Class V ("Fully sapient humanoid entities with potential hostile capabilities").
The Warning Entity he and Shimmer had encountered at the university had been a Class III, according to the briefing—sentient but with limited ability to interact with Earth's physical reality. But the briefing also referenced recent encounters with Class IV and even Class V entities emerging from newer anomalies.
Max recalled Mrs. Chen's words about dimensional refugees like herself. Were these Class V entities similar interdimensional travelers? Or something more sinister?
As the briefing concluded, Max approached the technician with what he hoped was a casual question. "The Class V entities—the humanoid ones. Has anyone been able to communicate with them?"
"That's classified information," she replied automatically, then hesitated. "But since you're on the Guardian route... there have been a few cases. Some appear to speak languages similar to ours, though with unusual dialects. The really strange ones are those who claim to recognize our world but say it's 'wrong' somehow."
"Wrong?" Max repeated. "How?"
"Different histories, different outcomes of major events. One reportedly asked why the moon was broken, as if it should have been intact." She shrugged. "Parallel reality theory stuff. Above my clearance level, honestly."
Max thanked her and collected his courier bag, mind racing with implications. If people were coming through from parallel Earths, dimensions where The Collapse had never happened or had happened differently...
He was so distracted he nearly collided with someone in the corridor outside the briefing room.
"Careful!" a familiar voice cautioned.
Max looked up and froze. Lumina stood before him, her Guardian uniform slightly dusty from fieldwork but still predominantly white with those distinctive gold accents. Her blonde hair was pulled back practically, and her warm brown eyes showed the strain of continuous crisis management.
"I'm sorry," Max stammered, his heart rate accelerating embarrassingly. "I wasn't watching where—"
Recognition dawned in her expression. "Wait, you're the courier from the Shock incident. Max, right?"
"You remember me?" he asked, echoing his surprise from earlier with Blockade.
She smiled, the expression brightening her tired features. "Of course. It's not every day a civilian stands up to one of our most dangerous adversaries." She glanced at his courier bag. "Still delivering for Harbor News?"
Max nodded, struggling to form coherent sentences in her presence. "Special edition. About the anomalies."
"Good," she said approvingly. "People need reliable information right now, not panic and rumors." A wry smile. "Well, not the harmful kind of rumors, anyway."
Had she just made a pun on his hero name? No, impossible—she had no way of knowing Max was Rumor. It was just a coincidence.
"I should get going," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the exit. "More deliveries."
Lumina nodded. "Stay safe out there. And..." she hesitated, then added, "if you happen to see that new hero, Rumor, tell him the Guardians could use his help right now. Officially."
Max blinked in surprise. "You want Rumor's help? Officially?"
"We need all the assistance we can get with these anomalies," she admitted. "And he's proven himself capable, especially working with Shimmer at the university." Her expression turned curious. "Do you know him? You seemed to react to the name."
"No!" Max said too quickly. "I mean, I've just heard about him. On the news. Like everyone else."
Lumina didn't seem entirely convinced but didn't press the issue. "Well, if your paths cross, pass along the message. We're coordinating volunteer powered individuals at Guardian Tower."
"I will," Max promised, already planning how Rumor might "coincidentally" show up to offer assistance.
As he turned to leave, Lumina called after him, "And Max? I meant what I said after the Shock incident. Leave the heroics to those with powers. The city needs its couriers too."
The irony of her statement was almost painful.
---
Max completed his remaining deliveries in record time, his mind buzzing with everything he'd learned. The dimensional crisis was worse than publicly reported, entities from other realities were crossing over with increasing frequency, and the Guardians were officially requesting Rumor's help.
Added to Mrs. Chen's revelations about being a dimensional refugee herself and her warnings about reality degradation, the situation seemed increasingly dire. Yet Max still had more questions than answers about his own role in all this.
As he approached his apartment building in The Shallows, the evening sky darkening above the stilted structures, Max noticed an unusual silhouette on his narrow balcony. Someone was waiting for him.
He approached cautiously, ready to flee or fight depending on who it might be. But as he drew closer, he recognized the distinctive purple and silver costume of Shimmer, her form partially obscured as she periodically phase-shifted to avoid being clearly visible to casual observers.
"Took you long enough," she said without preamble as he reached his door. "Training session was scheduled to begin thirty minutes ago."
"I had deliveries," Max replied, unlocking his apartment. "Dimensional crisis and all that."
Once inside, Shimmer fully materialized, her practical braid and multiple ear piercings immediately recognizable. "Crisis situation necessitates accelerated training schedule. Mentis received Guardian authorization to expand your involvement."
"You mean Lumina's request for Rumor to help officially?"
Shimmer nodded sharply. "Guardian command recognizes tactical advantage of your abilities against dimensional anomalies. Phase-shifting capability particularly valuable for containment operations."
"So now I'm on the team?" Max asked, setting down his courier bag.
"Provisional auxiliary status," Shimmer corrected. "Limited information sharing, specific mission parameters, supervised deployment."
Max couldn't help feeling a small thrill of excitement despite the serious circumstances. Official recognition from the Guardians, even in a limited capacity, was more than he'd ever expected when his powers first manifested.
"When do I start?" he asked.
"Immediately," Shimmer replied, moving toward the door. "Suit up. Briefing at Mentis's facility in twenty minutes."
As Max reached for his Rumor costume, now stored in a hidden compartment beneath his bed, he remembered Mrs. Chen's warning about maintaining his sense of self. About being Max Peterson first, Rumor second.
"Shimmer," he said, pausing. "These entities coming through the anomalies. Have you encountered any that seemed... I don't know, like refugees rather than invaders?"
She tilted her head slightly, bird-like as always. "Interesting question. Classification protocols primarily focus on threat assessment, not intent categorization." She hesitated, then added, "But yes. Some entities appear to be fleeing rather than invading. Seeking sanctuary rather than conquest."
"Like people from parallel Earths where things went wrong?"
Shimmer's eyes narrowed slightly. "That information exceeds your current clearance level. Why do you ask?"
Max shrugged, trying to appear casual. "Just something I overheard during the anomaly briefing. Made me wonder."
She studied him for a moment longer, then apparently decided to let it go. "Expedite preparation. Crisis escalation waits for no one."
As she phase-shifted back to partial transparency to await him on the balcony, Max couldn't help wondering how many other Mrs. Chens might be out there—refugees from dying realities seeking new homes. And more unsettlingly, what catastrophe they were running from that could destroy entire dimensions.
Whatever it was, it seemed to be following them here. And somehow, impossibly, Max and his rumor-based powers were caught in the middle of it all.