Chapter Nine

(Nigga NIght)

The blackened sky-fantastic and ominous-looked beautiful from the roof of the warehouse. Little Africa smelled of shame and pain, and as Rachel looked from the rooftop, she had no doubts about her particle accelerator, what it could do, and the results it would produce. She heard the vibrations from the subway, the honks from the cars, and the innocent screams-all night long while she stood on the warehouse rooftop. It was nine-fifteen in the evening, and she was ready to flip the switch. She expected the entire city to go black for five minutes before the machine massed enough energy to send out its cosmic rays to change Little Africa.

The machine stood quietly in the center of the rooftop with all its buttons and switches, and while she enjoyed her creation, she pressed the on button. The crimson and azure colored buttons flickered for a moment, and then were solid, indicating the machine was ready to absorb as much power as needed before releasing the cosmic band.

She watched the black folks at the corner church called Trinity First Baptist Church, and a flock of mourners walked inside. But they were neither churches, nor places of solace, nor meant to give strength to African Americans, they were slaughterhouses for sheep who spent their entire lives avoiding logic and reason. She walked over to her machine, and her roommate now stood in the background in her black dress. She felt Ju try to use telepathy to enter her mind, but she immediately thought about a deck of cards, and it caused Ju's nose to bleed. Every time she felt a tingle in her head, she threw up a deck of cards or something else to block the intrusion. Finally, she crept into her roommate's head, and danced around for a moment, and when she did, she saw what pained her the most.

Inside Ju Gee's Head: Eleven Years Earlier

Government tests came with a lot of questions, and some questions weren't meant to be answered by the normal, human mind. Every once in awhile, and rarely, the government sent schools a test that looked for the students with gifts, but not ordinary abilities; they searched for kids with telepathic abilities or who could see future events. Most students with special powers didn't mention them out of fear. A rumor roamed around Little Africa about government officials kidnapping kids with gifts, and it wasn't for membership in the Justice Corp. When a gifted student surfaced, other students in the program conveniently arrived on the scene. It was the way Cadmus worked.

August 1, 2006.

Ju Gee sat in her first period English class when she was a Sophomore in highschool, next to Michael Baker, a tenebrous skinned kid with bifocals. She hadn't ever seen anybody as black as him in her entire life, and she found his look fascinating. His strong face gave way to pain and discourse in his life. His thick lips told a story of kindness, and his round eyes gave him a look of innocence. She tried to avoid turning to see his fascinating features, but she found him alluring. Everything about him was like forbidden fruit, and she needed to focus on her studies. She admired his wide shoulders and broad chest. His shirt gently outlined his pectoral muscles, and his arms were long, muscular, and baked in the rays of the sun. He stood straight in his chair, and when he stood up to drop off his questionnaire, he must have stood approximately six foot two.

Nobody in the entire school resembled Michael. In fact, she didn't know anybody at all in Little Africa who resembled him. His lineaments were drawn in such a way that ancient civilizations would have chosen him to be their god. Before she ever spoke to him, she thought his very presence tormented her because she couldn't touch his face, trace his abs, or fondle his phallus. She wanted to speak to him so badly because she thought once he spoke that he'd be shallow and weak minded. His head would be filled with meaningless pop music, and he wouldn't care about the world around him. She hoped that he'd be an inner city, uncouth thief with no morals, and every stereotype mentioned about black people in the media. She hoped his outer beauty would be contrary to his character, and then she could retreat in shame for ever admiring anybody as black as him.

Suddenly, a pain shot through her mind, and then she heard voices, and it said, "I'm tired of all these damn coons. Tomorrow, I'm going to kill every last one of them." She looked around the classroom for a moment, but didn't know who said it. There were four white kids in the entire class, and she thought one of them said it, and she tried her best to discern the culprit. The voice was loud and distinct, and as far as she knew, a horrid view of the immediate future. When the class bell rang, she jumped in her seat, and then it acted as an on switch for the voices, and they wouldn't stop for nothing. At first, she thought madness had set in like it did her grandfather, but after awhile, she realized she could read the thoughts of the other people. When she walked down the hallway, she heard a distinct voice in her head, and he talked directly to her.

"I knew you were a telepath," the voice whispered in her mind. "It's Michael Baker by the way."

"How do you shut off the voices?" She asked.

"Meet me during lunch by the fences," he said, "We'll work on it."

"Okay," she whispered.

By the fence…

On the fringes of the school grounds grew batches of balloon flowers, and they circled the entire campus. Everything felt serene by the fences, and it made her feel a certain way, a positive way. Michael leaned against the fence, and he was so tall and dark-and beautiful. He placed his head against hers, and he traveled deep into her mind to help her control the voices. He sat her on the ground, placed his hands on either side of her head, and she felt him rumbling around in her head, and after the first session, she was able to block out all the extra voices.

"I heard a young man claiming he was going to shoot up the school," she whispered telepathically.

He laughed. "Don't worry about him," he said with a smile. "The cops have already seized his weapons and arrested him.

"How did they know?" She asked with a smile.

"I helped them out occasionally," he said. "I often work with other government agencies."

For nearly thirty minutes during lunch for the next two weeks, he helped her with her abilities. She realized-almost immediately-he gave her a new understanding of life, and he taught her how to use her abilities as a weapon. Eventually, he taught her how to connect to his mind, and create a place of serenity that was almost like heaven. It was like a drug, a place where she could abscond from the pains of living with her abusive, cop of a father who preyed on the people of Little Africa.

8/6/2006…

Telepaths were extremely powerful, but they didn't have the ability to connect with people on the other side of the school. She worked hard every day with her range, but she couldn't enter a mind farther than one hundred yards, but once she implanted a thought into a mark's head, it stayed for months. But when she came home to her quaint, little house, her father often sat in his easy chair, hands down his pants, and sucking down a beer. Her mother fixed the table, and served up some chicken fried rice for the third day in a row. It smelled pretty good to her, and the kimchi brought out the flavor in the food. It was a small house with two bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, living room, and a den. Quickly, she walked over to the table, sat down, and filled her plate with rice and kimchi, and began to eat. Her father wobbled over to the head of the table, and he scoffed at the food.

"The same shit every fucking day," he said with anger in his voice. "I should go to Bridget's house."

Her mother sat on the other end of the table, and she didn't say anything in response to what her father said. "Who's Bridget?" Ju asked.

"Some poor girl he's raping," her mother said with a snarl. "You should be ashamed of yourself. How many blasian babies are walking around Little Africa with your face?

"Maybe if you knew how to suck a penis I wouldn't stray!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, I can't even finish my food," Ju said, "I'm grossed out."

"Grow up," Mister Gee said, "How many cocks have you swallowed?"

Her face filled with fear, her heart sank into her stomach, it was in the exact place it needed to be from such an accusation. "That's not fair," she said, "I've been respectable."

"You're disgusting," Mrs. Gee snapped. "My mother told me you were worthless."

He laughed for a moment, and then took a few more bites of his food. He sat back in his chair, with his hands on his protruding belly, and gave Mrs. Gee and insidious glare. "You need to talk to your momma."

"About what?" Mrs Gee asked. Nervous, a thousand thoughts raced through Ju's mind, and she didn't know what to think. She sat in fear for what would spew from his hateful mouth. The mood in the room was dark, pure black, and the attitudes were rotten to the core.

"I use to come to National City to see you, and then after you went to sleep, I would screw your mom," he said with a serious look on his face. "It was like a ritual."

"You lie," she said. She seethe in anger, and the accusation seemed to burn her deeply.

"It wasn't until Ju turned ten that we stopped our relationship," he said with a smile. He looked over at Ju, and said, "Your Uncle Kevin is actually your half brother."

The atmosphere was full of shame, and Ju ran to her room, dove onto her bed, and tried to cry it out while her parents continued to argue. Her mother threw dishes on the ground, flipped over the kitchen table, and then she heard her father run out of the house. Her mother then called her mother who lived in National City, and after about ten minutes, she heard her Momma screaming, "How could you screw my husband behind my back?" She sat on her bed, rocking back and forth, and crying at what she heard coming from the next room. She knew her father screwed her family every day he went to work on the streets of Little Africa. He raped black girls between the ages of twelve to thirty, and the people knew about it. She looked down at her sage blanket, and laid her head on her pillow, when her Momma screamed, "So, Kevin and Lucy are his children?" It sent a shockwave through her mind, all the way down to her heart, and it palpitated wildly. Her uncle and aunt were well in their twenties, and she never imagined her father and grandmother sharing a bed, but it didn't matter. She ran into multiple blasians throughout Little Africa with her face, but a little darker, and without any protection from the local police.

She walked out of her place of solace, into the living room, and watched her Momma throw her landline across the floor. Ju scrutinized her mother's face, the eyes full of anger and shame, and when she looked over at her, she crinkled her nose. The pain was thick and murky, and when she went to speak on her father's madness, the words escaped her. She wanted to be simple like Michael taught her when entering into a mind with telepathy. In order to protect the subject's mind, the telepath had to practice, work on his or her che, and use the right words so the subject would understand. Kindly, she walked over to her mother, sat her on the couch, and hugged her for a long moment. Everything seemed so surreal, and she wanted the pain to stop.

"It's not his betrayal that hurts," Mrs. Gee said softly. Her voice was brittle, and the tears flowed. "It's my mother's betrayal that has broken me."

'It will be alright, Momma," she said.

Her mother smiled as she cried and sobbed loudly. She shook her head in disagreement, and said, "With you, he has thirty-three kids, and thirty one of them grew up or live right here in Little Africa."

"How can you stand it?" Ju asked lamentingly.

"I've learned to live with it," she said softly. "The madness started when I was pregnant with you."

"Are Brian and Lisa Denison my half siblings?" She asked.

"Yes," she said, "The Denison twins are your siblings, and they know it, but nobody talks about it. All five kids in that family are your father's children."

"Why didn't you report him?" She asked softly.

"I did," she said. "I sent letters. I took pictures of him molesting children, but nobody cares when they're not white. There's video, pictures, and DNA in every part of Little Africa, but nobody cares. There's no protection in Little Africa for the people who need it the most."

Pain filled her life, and she wanted an escape, a place where she could be at peace, and forget the world around her. Bad as her life was, and her father's criminal behavior proved it, Michael had exactly what she needed to escape. She tried her best to be the rock for her Momma, but the pain in her heart was too intense. "I have to go see Michael, Momma," she said.

"You're leaving?" She asked softly. Her watery eyes broke her daughter's heart.

"It's an important homework assignment," she said. She walked out the house, and ran approximately six blocks down the street.

Michael's …

Ju's perception of what was and what should be was blinded by the stereotypes that filled her mind, and she hated herself for that. The Cadillacs, the golden rimmed cars, and large, black dice hanging from the car's roof interior was her perception of black life. She expected kids greeting her with cherry red, Kool-aid lips, braids, and high top shoes. When she approached Michael's house, it was quiet, and the only car in the driveway was small, boxy, and European. It was rather reserved. The flowerbed located in front of the house was nice: roses, tulips, and a row of nice, terror cotta pots along the sides. She walked up to the front door, knocked, and waited for somebody to open it.

When the door finally opened, she stood in front of Michael, and suddenly her knees became weak, and she nearly fell on the ground, but he caught her. She felt his massive arms pick her off the ground, take her to the couch, and then he gave her some water. Quickly she glanced around the living room, and didn't see one picture of Jesus. It confused her because most of the students were highly religious.

Michael smiled. "Remember, as a telepath, you have to learn to keep your thoughts suppressed." He sat down beside her, and said, "Religions are to control the vassals. I've talked to my boss about you, and she wants you to come into the program."

"To be an agent like you?" She asked.

"Yes. There's a young child with great powers beyond anything I can fathom who she needs monitoring while she receives her education at the University," he said. "You'd have to enter training immediately to have the mental strength to keep up with her."

She paused for a moment, and then ask, "Will it take me away from here?"

"For a little while," he said with a calm demeanor. "You'd spend the next year or so in Gotham, and then you'll return to National City, attend the University, and your roommate will be a child named Rachel Ballard."

"Couldn't you do this?" She asked.

"No," he said. "I wouldn't be able to gain her trust like you." He paused for a moment. "She's already stronger than us combined, but soon her mind will be on par with the gods."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

He smiled. "We're like the lowly creatures of the universe," she said, "The trash. This child comes about every new age to bring about the Destroyer."

"What's the Destroyer?" She asked.

"Something we all fear," he said, "He has destroyed worlds in every iteration. Since Rachel is born on Earth, we believe the Destroyer will come from here."

"But what's the importance of all this?" She asked.

"If we can control the birth of the Destroyer, we can steer him in a wise direction, and bring about a god who's caring and loveable towards human kind."

"Can we stop this Destroyer?" She asked.

He laughed. "He's woven into the matrix of the universe," he said, "We can't stop him, but we can change his philosophy of life with outside influences."

Ju sat on his couch, thought about what he said, and she found it unbelievable. She began to cry, and Michael immediately held her, and then she felt a tingle in her head, but instead of fighting back his intrusion, she wanted him to see her pain. When he stood up, she could tell what he saw appalled him, and worry overcame his face. She sat back on his couch, and watched him as he paced back and forth, and then he spoke.

"So, your father is the cop making all these blasian babies," he said with a grimace. "Just the thought rattles me because the sex isn't consensual. It's out of fear of going to jail these women give in."

"I hate him," she said with a grimace. She wiped the huge tears from her face, and played with her fingers. "My entire world is torn, Michael. There's no hope for my poor Momma, and I don't know what to do. She's thirty-five, no skills, a graduate degree, but no skills, and the way she talked this morning I think she might commit suicide." He walked over to her, placed his hand on the back of her neck, and she leaned her head against his hip.

"You've known for awhile about your father," he said with a grimace. "Do you remember that black girl, Charlie Ray?"

She paused for a moment, and then said, "The one the cops found in the dumpster across from the old warehouse?"

"Yeah. That happened over the summer," he said. "She filed a complaint with the NCPD, and the next day they pulled her body out of the dumpster."

"Dear, God," she said with a grimace. "Do you think it was my father?"

He sat down beside her, and said, "You have the power to find out." He placed his hands on her face, and said, "Don't forget what I taught you. Enter into your father's mind, and search for the answers."

"What will come of it?" She asked with a grimace.

"Nothing as far as justice for Charlie," he said calmly. "But at least you'll know."

An older lady walked into the room, sat on the easy chair, and smiled, and from what she could tell, she wasn't just any black woman. She had a military style haircut with a chiseled face, small waist, and sophisticated.

"You're Michael's telepathic friend?" She asked telepathically. "I'm his mother Olivia Baker. Our boss needs you in the program for a special assignment."

"Michael told me," she said out loud.

"Then let me say this aloud," she said softly. "Rachel is the Herald of the Destroyer. Every old world, far removed from Earth, has tales of the Destroyer, including Earth."

"I've never read anything about him," she said.

"We refer to him as Lucifer, Abaddon, and Hades to name a few," she said. "It was the ancients way of understanding this great power that wiped out entire civilizations to bring peace to the universe."

Michael tuned in, and said, "He's the reason for the rise of metahumans." He paused for a moment. "Some will fight against him while others will join his cause."

"Is he evil?" She asked.

"It depends on where you fall on his radar," she said with a smile. "It's the third time he's been born on Earth."

"Did he spare us?" She asked.

"No," she said, "He wiped out several branches of humans nearly five hundred thousand years ago. I believe one of them was the Homo Erectus."

"What is his criteria for wiping out entire species?" She asked.

"When a species fails to grow or prohibits other species within the same race from growing, he may wipe out the species that's in the way." She paused for a moment, and said, "It's highly possible he will destroy the human race at some point," she said softly. "It's the reason we're putting so much energy into ensuring the Herald is educated and trained accordingly."

"So, he wipes them out with the snap of his fingers?" She asked.

"No. He'll put a disease in place or a condition that stops the breeding process," she said, "He'll use science to wipe out a race over time, so he can analyze them. If they find redemption, he can save the species."

"How do you know all of this?" She asked.

"The Great Mother on Earth is a clone of the original," she said, "The original put the Destroyer in the matrix of the universe, and now we work for her."

"So, is the Destroyer immortal?" She asked.

"Yes," she said, "But if he goes into a yellow sun, his essence is hidden from the universe, and another Destroyer will emerge."

"But why would he do that?" She asked.

She laughed. "His greatest weakness is his ability to love. He always chooses to love a woman who resembles his mother and another one who resembles his sister, and in most cases, is his sister. If one of them dies, his urge to retreat to the sun takes over."

"So, his loves are reborn as he's reborn?" She asked.

"Exactly," she said. "Don't discuss any of this with anybody because it's only known amongst the telepathy."

"That's important, Ju," Michael said with a grimace. "You're part of Cadmus now, and we work in secret for the safety of humanity."

Olivia left out of the room, and Ju sat back on the couch feeling the visit complexed her life, and then she said, "When will I meet Amanda?"

"Soon," he said with a smile. "Cadmus is global, and we're actively looking for more telepaths."

Michael walked into the kitchen for about five minutes, and came back with some ice cream and cookies, and it was bit of a surprise. She sat on the couch, and ate the goodies quietly while watching television. She tried her best to keep her thoughts from spewing out into his head, but she put a lot of cathexis into him. The smell of his musk drove her insane, and she wanted to taste her lips on his. What a man, what a joy to see such intelligence formed into a body of a god, strong, almost perfect in every way, quietly eating ice cream on the other end of the couch. Contemplating her next move, she contemplated her next move, but didn't know how to execute it, so she aggressively slid beside him with her ice cream, and bumped his shoulders. She sat close enough to feel his breath, and it was refreshing, but she needed to know where they stood.

"Are we an item?" She asked out of nowhere. She didn't know what to say, but she had to say something. "Telepaths date right?"

He laughed. "I assumed we were," he said, "I mean you're practically sitting on top of me." He paused for a moment, and then said, "I just don't let anybody sit on top of me like this." Placing his ice cream on the end table, he picked her up, and placed her on his lap, and started tickling her. They played and laughed on the couch for about thirty seconds before he kissed her intimately. "Yeah. We're an item."

Next day…

Elated, Ju walked through the hallways without a care in the world, full of energy, and happy that Michael confirmed their relationship. She stood at her locker, punched in the combination, as she always did, and opened it to a surprise: "All the blasians are talking, and we think you need to talk with us. I don't like the way we became family, but we're family. Meet us after school. Baby Cakes."

Quickly, she closed the locker, and leaned against, and as soon as she caught her breath, Michael swooped her up, and kissed her on the lips. He then whispered to her telepathically, and said, "I see. Do you need me to come with you?"

He placed her on the ground, and they walked quietly to class. "I think so," she said telepathically. "It only makes sense."

After School…

In order to understand the anger and resentment, Ju needed to listen to her siblings, and it was more than a few of them, brought into the world through rape and disorder, black and Asian-and angry, bound in a beautiful brown skin with almond eyes, kinky hair, and soft, thick lips. They were of all different sizes and builds, but they were all Gees, regardless of their birth certificates.

Babycakes stepped forward, and Ju knew her from elementary, but she never talked to her. She was in several of her classes, and she noticed the resemblance, but didn't acknowledge it. Now, she watched the young teenager stand in front of her, slender and beautiful, discuss what to do about their father. She counted all the kids by the fence, and Michael stood behind her. They held hands as they walked up to the group of half siblings.

"We are eight of your siblings in the same grade as you," Babycakes said with a grimace. "I know of two in the ninth, three in the eighth, and two in the seventh." She paused for a moment, and said, "It would behoove any blasian student to refrain from being intimate with another one because we're all siblings."

"It's true," she said with a look of shame. "My father has at least thirty two kids, and my Momma reported him to the cops, but they've failed to act."

One young man walked forward with spiky, dyed blond hair, and said, "I'm Nathan 'Spike' Hanson. Just call me Spike." Ju noticed his smile was the same as her father's, and his almond shaped eyes were like her grandfathers. It was bizarre because Little Africa comprised of so many of her siblings.

"Okay," Ju said with a smile.

"I found out a year ago who my father was," Spike said, "My Momma wouldn't tell me for anything, so I asked my grandmother about my father. She didn't hold back. It pained me to know I was conceived in a back alley." He paused for a minute, and then said, "It pained me even more to know I was a product of a rape."

"The man who fathered us is a sexual deviant," Ju said angrily. "My heart aches for what he did, and it aches even more when I know the justice system failed the community. We were brought together by something ugly, but we are family. All of us."

The two twins stood by each other, and they wore matching outfits with bowties. "Lisa and Brian over here," Brian said, "We knew Officer Gee was our father, but he drops by our house on a regular basis." He paused for a moment. "We have three other siblings all fathered by him."

Another young woman with a long ponytail, narrow, oblong face, and beautiful hill-top eyes stood before her. Her eyes narrowed to a point, and her lineaments were near perfect. She was about an inch taller than Ju, and with a nice, flat stomach. Her breast were well defined, and she was definitely the hotty of the group.

"My name is Geer Mason," she said, "I knew we were all kin since grade school, but it is what it is. I can't waste my time with hating."

"Ugh. My name is Drew 'Nano' Prat," a short, young man with a muscular frame said. "I hate the sperm donor because he raped my mom repeatedly. I have two more siblings he fathered, and nobody cared to stop it."

"Vicki 'Vapor' Washington in the house," a young woman with wild hair said. "My mother overdosed on meth right after my birth, and I grew up in foster care, and then an Asian family adopted me."

"You didn't adopt their name?" Michael asked.

"No," she said, "I kept my birth name out of respect for my Momma," she said, "The Parks understood."

"The closest we'll ever get to justice is exposure," Ju said with a grimace. She squatted in place, and then said, "But we're family, and that's the truth. We need to find a way to come together more often."

"I was thinking we could meet up at Mickey's or something like that on Sunday's," Babycakes said.

"That's a good idea," Greer Mason said, "I'm free on Sundays."

"What time?" Brian asked. "We have church."

"About four or five," Ju said, "That's a good time."

October 4, 2006...

Michael and Ju walked over the hill, down the street, and into Mickey Mac's diner where two little tots-one Asian and one black-sat with their parents, and shared a cheesy fries. "I'm a Vulcan," the little boy said.

"Daddy said your red shirt means you die first," the girl said with cheese all over her face. The boy reached across the table with his napkin, and she stuck out her chin, and he wiped her face.

"Did you see that?" Ju asked with a huge grin. "Those are the cutest kids on the planet.

"I see them all the time," Michael said, "They're always together. I saw him run out the Big Mart store by himself a week ago, look around for a moment, run back into the store, and then ran out with her."

She watched the little boy grab the girl's jacket, help her get dressed, and then they skipped out of the store, and it amazed her how close they were.

When Mickey walked over to the table, she asked him about the kids, and he told her the same storyline that Michael said. "You never see them two apart," he said, "And if you look at her wrong, mess up her order, or anything like that, he'll go off. "

"I've never seen two kids so close," she said.

"There pops are best friends who served in the military together," he said, "I use to hang with them when we were kids, but I couldn't do the military stuff."

"Yeah," Michael said. "I feel you. Ju, what's your desire?"

"The Big Mick," she said.

"Mickey, make that two Big Micks and a large basket of fries," he said, "We'll share those."

Mickey laughed for a moment. "That's JJ's and Peppermint's order."

"JJ?" Ju asked.

"Yeah. The little kids you were admiring," he said, "They'll order the same thing."

After they placed the order, Ju turned to him, and asked, "Do you think my siblings and I can come together as a family?"

"It's difficult to say," he said with all seriousness. "The mind reacts to external influences, and several of your siblings had hostile thoughts towards you at the cookout Saturday."

"Me?" She asked.

"I try not to be too intrusive in these matters," he said, "They feel like you had it better than them."

"Really? My father has heavy hands, and I watched him beat my Momma and slap me around all the time. I'm not trying to win a pity party over here, but life sucks at my house. My memories have destroyed any positive memory of my childhood. The siblings who grew up without my Father in their houses are truly the lucky ones, and that's the simple fact."

"My people are all telepaths, as far back as time, and we've always worked in subterfuge," he said telepathically. "My father is trying to stop the flow of genetically enhanced grain from entering the United States from the United States of Africa."

"I didn't know they unified," she said as Mickey set the food on the table. "Thank you, Mickey."

"Not yet, but it will happen within five years," Michael said with a smile. "It's causing a problem because the nation won't pick up the dollar, and it's going to start a war."

"How do you know so much?" She asked. "We're only in high school."

"This is all we do," he said telepathically, "Cadmus is global, and agents as young as me can end up in other nations as spies."

She looked up at him, and asked, "Have the telepaths ever stopped the Destroyer?"

He stopped chewing on his hamburger for a moment, and said, "The Harbinger is a powerful telepath, and it will take one of us all our mental strength to block them when they're young. By the time a Harbinger turns twenty-one, they can reach out and kill us from half a light year away."

"Goodness," she said. "That's far."

"Not really," he said, "In our folklore, the Destroyer, from the time of his birth, can reach out, and kill us from thousands of light years away."

"But isn't it just myth?" She asked.

"No," he said, "He's real. We've collected documents from different worlds who have fled his wrath. Nearly twenty-five hundred years ago, he took the form of a Doraxian. I don't remember his name, but he was called a Blue, and they were dominated by a race called The Grays. It was the one and only time the Destroyer walked a world without his strength, ring, telepathic abilities or telekinetics. It was the only time he didn't marry his sister or a woman like his mother, but he found a woman like his sister named Su'Ra Nalia, an ascetic girl from the north. The legend went that he designed powerful ships like no other in creation, and he destroyed worlds with them. But no matter the work he put into Doraxia, the Grays treated the Blues less than desirable. On average, Doraxians live three hundred to four hundred years, and in the first one hundred years, Su'Ra and the Destroyer had nearly thirty kids. I believe his last name was Naga or T'Naga. Oh. His name was E'Da T'Naga."

"E'Da T'Naga was the Destroyer?" She asked.

"Yes," he said, "After he had his thirtieth child, he came to the leaders of Doraxia, the Grays, as the Destroyer. He activated his powers, and his ring came to him almost instantly, and he assumed his original tenebrous form. They didn't recognize him as E'Da T'Naga, but as an alien who placed judgement on Doraxia. He told the leaders that the Blues were an abhorrent people, and the universe had placed judgement on them. He gave the Doraxian leadership a box with a red button on it. He told them they had thirty days to decide on pushing the red button, and when they pushed it, it would end the life of the majority of Blues on the planet. He handed the box over to the Grays, and they pushed the red button within the hour of him leaving. The Blues loved the Grays, even the ascetics who started the T program loved the Grays. E'Da T'Naga returned to his Su'Ra T'Nalia, and never said what he had done for nearly fifty years. The Grays rejoiced in the idea of the Blues dying off. The Destroyer told them to keep everything a secret from the Blues, but they didn't. They threw death in the Blues' faces, and denigrated them every day about it. Later on, the Blues came to E'Da T'Naga, and asked him if the Blues were dying, and he told them an emphatic no. He said, and I will quote from the documentation, 'Lucious Naga came for the Grays.' They all laughed at him until he assumed his natural form in front of them. His wife divorced him, and he wrote a secret will that will be revealed to the Destroyer that we're trying to control. E'Da T'Naga's genetic line became pariahs of Doraxia for killing off the so-called master race."

"He killed off an entire race of people?" She asked. "Why?"

"They treated the Blues less than Doraxians, and at one point subjugated them and murdered them with impunity. We have no belief the world can change, so if he has compassion, empathy, and understanding for the human race, he might ignore us."

"This is too much to handle," she said.

"In the Bible, the snake told the girl to eat the fruit so she may know good from evil," he said, "When a race stops gaining knowledge, and that includes empathetic knowledge, he wipes them out. The human race has regressed, and this is why Cadmus must try to influence the Destroyer when he comes."

It was approximately five in the afternoon, and the young couple sat in Martin Luther King's Park, and relaxed on the Merry-Go-Round, drank a cup of tea, and enjoyed each other's company. She needed time and patience, she had to have those things, she was depended on them to process the idea of controlling the devil. She needed a jacket, and all she had was a t-shirt, but she felt the warmth in Michael's arms. He stood up, sat behind her, and wrapped his arms around her.

Michael talked about the golden beauty of the trees, the autumn breeze, and the loss of his youth to the gift of his telepathy. She felt his embrace, a comforting hug that engulfed not only her body, but her very soul. He smelled manly with a hint of watery musk, and it was a faint cry for acceptance, but didn't need to prove anything to her; it was the other way around. Pulling out her cellphone, she snapped a selfie, and then saved it. Quickly, she stood up, and watched him as he sat on the Merry-Go-Round, and then she said, "Cheese." She snapped another picture of him, and again when he turned to the side. And even though she felt bliss in the moment, she cried because she knew next week she would be in training at Cadmus Academy in Gotham, a secret facility on the fringes of the city.

"Tell me something?" She asked facing him, arms folded, and unsure about herself, relationship, and entire existence. "I'm only a job for you?" She began to cry, and hold her chest like her heart was trying to break free. Our relationship is fleeting like the golden leaves of fall, and within days will be killed by distance and time." He stood up, and placed his hands on her face, and she backed away slowly, stood with her arms folded, and grimaced at him. "I don't know the difference between love and infatuation, pleasure and pain, but all I feel is a great loss because I realized I'm your mission. You've brought me a serenity that I can't imagine experiencing again but now your work is done, and I believe we're done."

He stood in front of her with his hands by his side, calm, and unassuming. So tall, so masculine, and so beautiful, he stood in front of her like a military commander, and then he spoke, "Cadmus has watched you for five years," he said calmly. "Sometimes students take test that doesn't make sense, but we use them to find people like you."

Ju began to palpitate, and cry uncontrollably, and then said, "All the love I felt was just your job?"

"No," he said with a smile. "Our minds have been woven together in a romantic embrace since August. We're both sixteen, you're my first relationship, and there isn't any reason I would need to start a relationship with you to recruit you into Cadmus."

"What happens when I leave for Gotham?" She asked.

"Nothing," he said, "We're Cadmus. We have money and means to stay in contact," he said. "We have video chat and access to planes," he said with a smile. "After your mother signed the release, my mother gave me permission to escort you to Cadmus."

"Were you assigned to me?" She asked.

"Yes," he said with a grimace. "I told my Momma that Ju Gee was my girlfriend, and she said, 'She's on the list of telepaths we're looking at.'" He paused for a moment, and then said, "She told me now that i started a relationship with you that you were my assignment."

"What are you saying, Michael?" She asked.

"Momma assigned you to me after she spoke to you," he said."Now, you're either my girlfriend or you're not. It's really up to you at this point." Walking away, she watched him as he leisurely traveled across the park, and left her behind. Suddenly, she felt a tingle in her mind, and he whispered telepathically, and said, "If I make it to the street, I'm just going to assume we're done."

"Wait!" She exclaimed. He turned around, and she came charging at him, leaped into his arms, and said, "You're playing hardball." Immediately, she felt like a bird with a broken wing, and had given him the power to kill her with a single blow to the head. Michael and Ju both played a game of cat and mouse, respectively, for each other's attention, and with a single charge across the park, she told him exactly where her hierarchy was in the relationship.

"Please don't drop me?" She asked softly.

"I won't," he said as he let her down.

"I meant don't drop my heart," she said.

He laughed. "I knew what you meant."

October 10, 2007…

After a year in the program, Ju's abilities blossomed, and she now had the finesse to erase other people's memories with precision. She stood tall, some sixty-eight inches with long, black hair, and she wore wired glasses. She went back to her parent's home, but had more than enough money for her own apartment. Her mother was ragged, a fractured spirit, and her face had crows feet in every corner. She was only thirty-seven, but the gray hairs fought for attention, to be seen, and she seemed dead, but still breathing.

A knock on the door-Michael standing on the other side-surprised her, but gave her excitement and joy, and even though she had seen him at least once a month during her training, she still craved him. The brightest light in her life was in the darkest person she knew. His skin was like midnight, glossed in the beauty of nature, and all seventy-six inches of him stood in her living room, and he excited her. He shaved his head, and it was the perfect shape and size filled with a strong mind, a strong sense of self, and a strong love for life.

"I'm glad you're back," he said as he hugged her tightly.

"I didn't play around," she said, "I put in the extra work needed to get through the course as fast as possible." They walked over to the couch, and she sat on his lap, and then said, "I need to tell you something."

"I love you," he said softly. "I think you should know that before we began."

She looked him in the eyes, and said, "Did you read my mind?"

"No," he said, "You need to know." She pressed her head against his, and filled him with her positive energy, and it immediately told him how she felt. "I'm going to National City University with you."

"Did you plan on going there?" She asked with a smile.

"Pretty much," he said, "It's a prestigious university, and produces good agents."

"So, you already had plans to attend?" She asked.

"Ju, you know I'm going because of you," he said, "Relationships don't work without putting in energy."

Ju's mother walked into the living room in her tattered, pink robe, scraggly hair, and unkempt appearance. Life battered her entire existence, and it showed in how she held herself. Ju looked at her from Michael's lap, as she leaned her back on his chest. Her mother sat in the easyboy, and immediately asked, "How are you doing, Michael?"

"Fine, ma'am," she said. Ju slid off his lap, and between him and the armrest, and then he asked, "Are you glad to have your daughter back?"

She gave a half smile, and looked over at Ju, and then Ju looked at her Momma, and said, "Momma, aren't you happy I'm home?"

She continued to smile, and then shook her head in disagreement. "There's no love in this house, dear," she said. "It hurts me that you've returned to this." Ju began crying, and Michael placed his right arm around her.

"I didn't mean to stir up anything," he said with a grimace.

"It's not your fault," she said in a brittle voice. Her lips could barely form the words. "I'm exhausted. I'm just ready to die."

"Momma!" Ju exclaimed.

She listened to her Momma discuss the sexual abuse she went through over the last year, and both her and Michael listened in horror, and then out of nowhere, she opened her robe, and showed where her husband choked her when she questioned him about the three pregnant women who filed a lawsuit against him.

"There are three more women?" Ju asked in disbelief.

"It's of no surprise," she said. "I assume there's many more."

"Mrs. Gee, you need to leave this situation," Michael said.

"What can I do?" She asked with a grimace. "I have no skills, no job, no nothing."

Michael stood up, and he towered over the Asian woman while she sat in the easy chair, and said, "Have you heard of metahumans?" He asked.

"Yes," she said, "It's been on the television."

"I'm a meta," he said, "I have the ability to restore your confidence, and give you the strength needed to leave." He knelt down beside her, and Ju watched him place his hands on her Momma's head. Suddenly, Mrs. Gee vibrated in the easy chair for about five minutes, and when Michael backed away, she looked confident. "How do you feel?"

She smiled. "Incredible." Quickly, Mrs. Gee hopped out of the easy chair, and went to her bedroom, and Ju sat back on Michael's lap, and they watched television.

It was a little after six in the evening when Mr. Gee rampaged through the front door, and gave one look at Michael, and said, "Why are you in my house?"

"I'm with your daughter," he said.

"So, you like em black?" He said with a grimace.

"Why must you be such a horrid person?" She asked. "Michael has been my boyfriend for over a year, and now you're acting like you don't know."

"Who the hell are you talking to?" He snapped, and charged for her, and out of nowhere, he passed out on the ground.

"What happen?" She asked.

"It's one of our abilities," he said. He removed Mr. Gee's weapon, and emptied it. "It's not safe to stay here. Get your momma and things, and we can get you a place."

"Remove his ankle weapon," Ju said as she pointed to it.

Quickly, Ju and her mother packed up their things, and Michael picked them up in his small and reliable, European vehicle, and honked his horn. Mr. Gee ran out the house, Michael stepped out the vehicle, and the short cop tried to place the seventeen-year-older under arrest. Ju ran out right behind her father, and said, "Leave him alone! You destroyed your family, and should be ashamed!"

Several young, sizeable blasian kids arrived on the scene, and helped Mrs. Gee out of the house, and then more came. Within fifteen minutes, thirteen blasian kids over the age of fourteen arrived on the scene, and escorted Mrs. Gee off the property. They surrounded her, and placed her in the backseat of the small, compact car, and then Ju jumped in the front passenger seat. But before she entered the car, she said to her father, "Don't ever contact us."

October 11, 2007…

The news about the cops shooting Richard Ballard built-up traction over the last two months, and groups against police brutality took to the street. The cops claimed Mister Ballard reached for something in his boot, but in the video, he wasn't wearing any boots. It didn't matter. The news media released a photo of a man's face battered and beaten, and they made the claim Mr. Ballard attacked the cop, and was killed in self defense. The battered cop's picture made its rounds on the Internet and then the local news stations, and for some reason, the public believed Mr. Ballard was just a common criminal.

"If he attacked the cops, then he deserved what he got," Ju said with a grimace. "It's a dangerous job."

Michael laughed for a second, and said, "Don't you know who that man is?" He looked at her as she lay on the couch, and he sat on the floor against the couch.

"Who?" She asked.

"The father of the girl who will be your roommate," he said, "He was a peaceful man who worked for us, and nurtured Rachel." He paused the television when the battered cops picture came on the screen, and said, "He didn't do any of that. Mr. Ballard had a keen mind that Cadmus put a lot of money behind." He paused for a moment, and said, "She's only eight-years-old, and it's outside forces that teach us who we are. Not only did the cops kill her father, but they turned him into a monster." He stood to his feet, and walked over to the door.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"I'm heading home, but after you look up Terry Blaze's photo, please give me a call," he said. "Please don't call me until you look up his photo."

She watched Michael exit the apartment, and he never looked back, and since the first time they met, he had always looked back, even after arguments. Her phone set on the edge of the couch, and she didn't want to get up at all because she was in a comfortable position. Her Momma worked at Pho Bang's, a soup restaurant across the street from the apartment complex, and if not for the tips, she wouldn't survive at all. Finally, she mustered up enough strength to reach for her cell phone, and googled Terry Blaze, and the same bloodied, cop photo popped up except he wasn't a cop at all. The photo was of a man who damaged his face in a motocross accident, and to her shame, she believed everything the media said about Rachel's father without question.

Never in her life did she feel more wrong than seeing the battered face of a supposed cop in her entire life, but what really made her a cruel person was her inability to empathize with the victim. She saw the media lie about Rachel's father attacking the cop, but it didn't matter. She didn't have an empathetic bone in her body for the man. In the back of her mind and to the front, she kept saying he must have been doing something to cause his own death, but the video only showed him tying his shoe. He didn't have a chance to put his hands in the air, and in the last seconds of the video, he shielded his daughter from the gunfire.

Moments later she turned on the news, and video of the battered cop came on the screen, and the reporter said they accidentally put up the wrong photo, they didn't actually have a photo of the cop to show. She took it as a simple mistake, but couldn't measure the amount of damage the photo did to the victim's character. She couldn't fathom the amount of damage it did to the victim's wife. And even though she knew about Rachel, she couldn't find a reason to care how it would change her heart. She came to the existential fact that she hated black people, and didn't have the ability to empathize with their pain. When her boyfriend sat on the floor, a black seventeen-year-old teen, she purposely said the man got what he deserved just to hurt him to a certain degree, and he didn't do anything to deserve that. She cried. She cried not because of what she thought, but because she knew her telepathic boyfriend knew what she thought.

She sat back on the couch, face swelled purple with anger, and she text Michael.

Ju: I saw the photo online, and the media lied.

Ten minutes passed, and she texted him again.

Ju: Are you upset with me?

She placed the phone on the couch, turned off the television, and relaxed for a moment. The phone didn't vibrate or beep the entire time, and it frustrated her. "Where are you?" Grabbing the phone, she texted him one more time.

Ju: I need you to answer me, Michael. Please!?

The idea of Michael knowing her innermost thoughts killed her on the inside, and she quickly realized the pain she felt wasn't for anybody else but herself. The pain in her heart was for what she might lose, and nothing for anybody else. The idea that she didn't have the ability to empathize with the people around her worried her to a certain degree. She had black brothers and sisters, and she wondered if she had feelings for them. She placed her phone on the kitchen counter, so she wouldn't stare at it in anticipation of his text or call.

She tried her best to find her humanity, but she needed work, and she didn't know where to begin. Perhaps she lost her humanity because she lived amongst the abused and forgotten of society, and they had their way of dealing with it. She had a variety of reasons, most of them needed improvement, somewhere for her lack of empathy, and it pained her. Her phone buzzed, she ran across the room, and picked it up, and it was a text from Michael.

Michael: I'm going to need some time apart from you. You know why.

Panting, she looked at the text, read it several times, and then thought about what he meant for a moment. The urge to cry overwhelmed her, and she could barely breath. Repeatedly, she pulled up the text, and the message didn't change.

Ju: OKAY!

The next day…

Michael walked through the hallway in a black, form fitting shirt that displayed his muscles with baggy pants, boots, and a silver belt. He had on his Cadmus heart monitor watch in case of an emergency, and agents could descend down on his location, extract him from danger or administer a shock to his heart if needed. He walked past her, without a glance, and kept ambulating down the hallway without looking back. She followed behind him, walked into class, set her books under her desk, and took a seat. Every few minutes, and frequently, she glanced over at Michael in the hopes he'd return a look, but he wouldn't budge. She tried to speak to him telepathically, but he blocked her.

"I'm broken, Michael," she said, and that was all she said. She didn't say anything else after that because he looked in her direction, and saw the warmth in his face.

He whispered telepathically to her, and said, "Telepathics love deeply. I have to scale back my feelings for you because you're incapable of empathy for black people."

"I can learn," she whispered telepathically.

"No. You're wired that way, Ju," he whispered telepathically. "No matter what I feel in my heart for you I won't go against my mind. We're no longer a couple."

She slammed her hands on the desk, grabbed her books, and stormed out of the classroom. The atmosphere was already tense, and she could feel his hurt, and when he said the relationship was over, it tore at her heart. She didn't expect the sudden breakup because they had been together over a year. The hallway seemed longer than usual as she ran down the hallway, and threw her books against the wall.

"You killed me, Michael," she whispered telepathically. She didn't have her jacket, only a long sleeve shirt, for comfort, and when she looked back at the school, she saw Michael walking quickly towards her. She tried to run, but everything went black. When she awoke, she lay in his bedroom, on his bed, and underneath the blankets. He sat beside the bed in his relaxed clothes: black sweats, sweatshirt, and socks.

"Tell me everything's okay with us?" She asked with a grimace. "You know what you're doing to me? I'm broken, Michael. I need work."

"Everyday I work on me," he said with a grimace. "When I have feelings deleterious to my character, I at least evaluate them." He paused for a moment. "If I have to do the unthinkable, my kill shot must hit the target, and leave as little collateral damage as possible." He wiped her head for a moment. "I realized I moved too hastily earlier, and I've given this a lot of thought that my life would suck without you."

She smiled, and kissed him deeply. "If we fight, please let's refrain from breaking up," she said with a serious look. "You're everything to me."

He stood up, took off his shirt, and she noticed his chiseled abs, ripped arms, and tight chest. He slid off his sweats, and his manhood looked threatening as he stood fully erect, shouting to the ceiling, and waiting patiently for her wetness. She hadn't engaged in coitus with anybody, and they dated for a year, but only engaged in telepathic love that brought her to a complete, unforgettable climax each time. She didn't understand why his soldier was ready for war after a heated argument, a breakup, and then a reunification. He climbed on to the bed, and she didn't know if she should touch his business as it brushed past her face when he pulled off her t-shirt. He unfastened her bra, and quickly suckled her breast like he knew every inch of them. Her heart raced, and she panted for a moment, but then he said telepathically, "Please relax." He was wide and massive, and without any warning, he slid off her sweats. She tried to hide her hairy bush, but he removed her hands, and said, "I want you the way you are, hair and all."

'Have you done this before?" She asked.

"No. You're my girl, and you've been my girl for over a year," he said, "I've dreamed of this a thousand times." He kissed her softly, and then said, "I want you like a wild animal wants a piece of meat, but if I do anything that hurts, you tell me, and I'll stop."

"Okay," she said with a half smile. She kissed him, and then she felt his two fingers from his right hand tease her clitorius wildly, and the sensation went all the way up her spine to her brain. He wiggled his fingers side to side until she soaked his bed. She didn't realize that she clutched the pillow over her face to deaden the screams during the petting session, and the rush to her head gave her a slight headache. Gently, he traced her face with his lips, and she felt the thickness of them pressed against her. It felt like love. It was an inexplicable joy that she didn't quite understand. His large hands were gentle against her body, and during all of that, he was slyly positioning himself between her legs, pushing forward, and situating his massive penis for entry. She didn't realize immediately what was taking place as he continued to press his lips softly against hers. He gripped her hips, pushed forward, and the entry caught her off guard. It was raw. It was hard. She hadn't ever felt anything like it in her entire life, and as he wrestled forward, she reared her head backwards. She felt the powers of his hips, the roundness of his buttocks, and the size of his phallus as he rammed it inside her. It was two bodies swirled together, and his tenebrous hue contrasted with her yellow complexion, and it was a thing of beauty. She learned many things about herself that night as she soaked his bed. By the end of the love session, semen, sweat, and her juices wet the bed, but they dealt with the mess, and laid in their sin like it was innate to the moment.

Ju lay in Michael's well-shaped arms, thinking, and wondering about the rush of the moment because it all felt surreal. She tasted him on her lips, and his scent drenched her body. His sweat wet her hair, and she felt his love and lust all at the same time, and she loved it. Relaxed, she closed her eyes, and in no time at all, it was morning.

October 12, 2007…

The sun hadn't come up, the room smelled of sweat and sin, and when she slid her right hand down her backside, she brushed past his erect phallus nudging at her vagina. She thought he was asleep, and tried to reposition his manly business away from her wetness, and without any warning, he had already re-entered her before she had a chance to embrace the moment. Looking back at him, at his face, and deep into his eyes, she realized he had planned the morning romp from the beginning, and the strength in his motion excited her. He rolled her on her stomach, and pounded her with wild motions. His hands clenched the mattress, and he used it as leverage as he plunged his stiffness into her wetness with extreme prejudice. And then when every nerve exploded throughout her body, he then collapsed on her, and all she could do was palpitate underneath him until the rush to her head subsided.

When he pulled back, she looked at his penis, and he wasn't wearing any protection, but semen dripped from his tenebrous nozzle, and fell onto her leg. "I'm not on birth control, Michael."

Gently, he pulled her in close, and said, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm heading to the corner store for the Plan B pill," she said with a grimace. "I can't afford a pregnancy at this time in my life."

She looked at him for a moment as he climbed out of the bed, and walked over to the bathroom. "I see."

"What?" She asked with a grimace. "Why are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"I'm not," he said, "I'm taking a shower."

Later in the day…

Ju fixed up her hair nicely, and wore a pink Geisha outfit and Michael wore a black suit to the Nightwing movie called ,"Nightwing: The Broken Wing." She laughed, cried, and had awful feelings because the entire movie was about his descent into madness. It was about a man, Jacob Larry, who grew up in an orphanage, discovered he had gifts, and then took on the Jokers, a gang of miscreants hellbent on destroying Gotham. Jacob Larry assumed the alternate ego of Nightwing, but the Joker organization was too much for one man, and he lost the war when Jacob Larry destroyed everything, including his own life when he fought the Jokers.

Michael held her closely during the movie, and when she looked over at him at the end of it, he had a tear rolling down his face. She loved that he was a sensitive man, and not afraid to show his feelings. She brought his masculine right hand up to her face, and kissed it. "I love you, Michael."

"I love you too, Ju," he said with a smile on his face.

Michael and Ju stood up, walked out the theater, and then out the front door. It was a busy evening in Little Africa, and the cars swooshed by like they always did. A couple of gangsters smoked cigars at the entrance, and she tucked her made-up face against his right arm. She held onto him tightly as the crowd thickened, and the faces mixed in an array of hues and angry grimaces. Something didn't seem right, and she felt a telepathic presence other than her's and Michael's. Suddenly, a loud bang-a gun blast-startled Ju, and she dove to the ground. When she turned to look at Michael, he flew backwards onto the concrete, and she realized he was hit. She turned towards the shooter, and two electric prongs hit her in the chest, and it caused her to blackout.

End

On the roof of the warehouse…

Rachel laughed. "You're such a tool." She walked around Ju as her friend stood on the roof bleeding from her face, and with a mere thought, the Asian woman fell to her knees. "What's the point of all this?"

"I was trained to keep you from the truth," she snapped.

"Even at the cost of your life?" Rachel asked with a grimace. "I've connected the dots, and now that I know you're the enemy, my defenses are on."

"You think I care about my life? I'm ready to die," she said, "I'm ready to give it all for the cause."

Rachel laughed. "It's obvious the clone, Amanda Waller, has different intentions than that of the Destroyers," she said with a grimace. "Throughout time, other Harbingers have tried to put flaws in the Great Unifier, and it always fails." She shook her head in disbelief, and then said, "Thugs murdered your boyfriend, and now you're willing to give your life to suppress my memories."

"So you've read my mind?" She asked.

"Yes," she said. "It amazes me that you've strategically manipulated my mind, but never read it. After my mother killed herself, I had a tutor come into my life, and he was a young man similar to your man."

Rachel's World 2008…

The Reverend Ronald Tyler took Rachel into his home after her Momma committed suicide, and immediately brought in a tutor by the name of Rick Thomas. He wore sweaters all the time because it was in the winter months with ugly, black rimmed glasses. He was a black man approximately six foot four or something like that. Very tall, soft spoken and his demeanor set him apart from the average person. He always smelled of a nice cologne like something a much older man would wear, and he spoke with a deep, but soft voice.

"Do you know why I'm here?" He asked with his soft voice. His eyes had a deep sadness to them, and he placed his hands on his lap.

"I think so," she said softly. "I can do things, things that other people can't."

"Like what?" He asked.

"When those devils shot my father, I heard their thoughts before I heard their voices," she said with a grimace. "But when it comes to you, I hear nothing at all."

"That's because I'm trained in blocking the thoughts of telepaths," he said with a smile. "But you're much more than a mere telepath, child."

Each time Ronald came to the house, he revealed more and more about the pain in his heart, and as Rachel grew in power, she found cracks in his abilities to block her mind. He would become angry at her intrusive behavior, and demanded she stop with the mental intrusions.

"You've hurt somebody deeply," She said. She paused for a moment, and said, "Somebody you love."

"It's obvious that you're a little urchin who has no respect for boundaries," he said.

"I'm not in your mind," she said, "It's not my fault that I'm an empath." She stood up from the table, walked around Ronald, and then asked, "Why would you hurt some poor girl so badly that you've destroyed your own heart?"

"My love for her hurt her mission, and I had to pull away," he said, "It's the job."

End

"What is the importance of this, Rachel?" She asked. "Just one of your stories that goes nowhere?"

"Are you daft, girl?" She asked with a grimace. "You've spent all these years damaging your own mind that you can't see Ronald is Michael. He didn't die. He wasn't gunned down on that sidewalk. He was ordered to leave you alone."

"You lie!" She exclaimed. "He wouldn't do that."

"Oh. Amanda played us all," she said, "You, me, and Michael. You're a tool." She looked over at her machine, and then said, "I'm about to turn it on, Ju. You have a few minutes to leave the area. You can go find your Michael. He's in Gotham, and teaches Philosophy at Gotham Prep." She watched her old friend stand in the middle of the roof with blood dripping down her face, and she looked like death. "You no longer have the strength or power to stop my mind, and you don't want to be here when I flip the switch."

"Promise me, Rachel? Promise me he's in Gotham?" She asked.

"Not only is he in Gotham, but he has always loved you," she said with a smile. "I'm speaking to him now, and he's waiting for you." Rachel stepped towards her old friend, and then Ju stumbled backwards. "You have to hurry. You have to hide from Amanda. Change your names," she said, "You'll always be on the run."

She took off her Cadmus, pinky ring, and threw it on the ground. "I'm sorry, Rachel." She looked at her charge, and then ran down the stairwell.

When Ju left off the roof, Rachel realized that she had never forgotten her humanity, and it was a good thing too. She thought about frying her brain on the spot, but Michael asked her not to do it because it was his fault Ju had become so angry through the years. But now that Ju aborted her only mission in Cadmus, Amanda would target her for elimination.

Quickly, Rachel walked over to the Particle Accelerator, flipped the switch, and the machine drained the entire city of power for approximately five minutes. The only thing with power during that time was the machine itself, and then when she pushed the bright red button on the panel, all the lights in the city came back on, and she absconded to a lead box on the side of the vessel. Suddenly a band of energy encompassed the entire area for only thirty seconds, and then once the radioactive wave hit the boundaries of Little Africa, it flew inward and infected thousands.