Grunge is dead. Despite everything we'd been through, despite all the times he'd absorbed armor piercing bullets…I guess there's no way to absorb the molecular structure of an explosion.
In her sorrow, Freefall levitated herself to the top of the Caprin Building and increased her gravity. Even now, I watch for her to come floating around the corner, playing with a sphere of gravity. My sister, a suicide at eighteen.
Rainmaker couldn't stand the tension in the house and left. I get periodic reports from the reservation about the young shamaness, and I hear that her modeling career is really starting to take off.
Burnout is trying to do a hard rock CD in Nashville. I thought that was where all the country stars went, but he seems to be doing well, too. His plasma is now used as a special effect in his music videos.
Me? I still continue to stay at La Jolla, keeping up with paperwork. I haven't seen John- I mean, Mr. Lynch- in about a year. My abilities are useless. They always kind of were. There's nothing I can do with my Gen except destroy. At night, I worry about my mentor.
It's funny. Mr. Lynch always worried that I'd be the one to break up the team, but now I'm the only member of Gen 13 left.
Superheroes don't die in nameless alleys in unexplainable explosions. They don't commit suicide, or leave to join the pop culture. They stay together fighting the bad guys and remaining loyal to each other forever, or at least until the world comes to peace and they can retire together.
Superheroes? We aren't superheroes…perhaps we never were.
We're just…ordinary heroes.
