The next few days were a whirlwind of publicity.

Despite my reluctance, I had my picture taken with a seemingly endless line of politicians- the state governor, numerous senators and representatives, and finally the president of the United States.

How they convinced the Secret Service to let me within a thousand miles of him I would never know. If I'd wanted to kill him, there wouldn't have been a lot they could have done to stop me. Poison gas, maybe.

I tried to put the idea that Brockton Bay deserved a little financial help every time I met a politician; as much as I hated all the posturing, Dad suggested that I try to make it into a good thing by actually helping people.

To my face they always seemed receptive to the ideas, but I suspected that they were just paying lip service. Considering that I had destroyed an Endbringer, you'd think they'd have taken me seriously. The fact that I was fourteen, though, seemed to weigh heavier in their minds.

They assumed that I didn't understand about complicated matters like the economy, and jobs and the reasons that my city was failing. They didn't realize that my Dad understood perfectly well, and I'd been hearing about it for the majority of my life.

They thought I was a naive kid with the power of an atomic bomb; although they were all smiles, I could tell that deep down it terrified all of them. Alexandria, Eidolon, they were known quantities, people who could be controlled.

I was a teenager, someone controlled by my hormones. I was subject to the emotional volatility that everyone went through, but unlike my peers, when I got irritated, people would die.

No one said anything about the dead; I shouldn't have been surprised. People rarely did in the aftermath of an Endbringer attack. There was a superstitious attitude that if you thought too much about the dead it might lead the Simurgh to target your town next.

It made me ashamed, seeing the fear in their eyes. They'd only seen the tip of the iceberg of what I could do, and they feared that. How much more afraid if they realized I was strong enough to destroy the moon at the very least, and possibly the entire planet?

There was some quiet criticism on PHO, but anyone who said anything was quickly shouted down by others. Saying anything bad about me was considered almost unpatriotic. I stopped reading the PHO after a while; hearing the adulation people were showering on me made me sick to my stomach.

Instead, I focused on learning how to bring back my golden state at will. It wasn't easy to do without need or rage, and I felt impotent at first when I couldn't do it. Eventually I became irritated enough to find the power inside of me, and it was a relief to find the power again.

Even more relieving was discovering that I had no guilt when I was in that form. It was like my conscience simply dropped away, and my mind was clear as a bell. When I was like that, I could understand that what I was doing wasn't healthy, but when I dropped out of it the veil dropped back over my mind.

Life was sort of returning to normal. At least some of my entreaties were listened to, as FEMA finally started bringing shipments in to help people who'd been hurt in the Slaughterhouse attack.

I wanted to do more, but other than cleanup, my powers weren't exactly designed to help with rebuilding. I didn't know how to build a house, and even if I wanted to join one of the Christmas in April type charities that were springing up all over the place to help people get back on their feet, the Protectorate wouldn't have let me have the time.

It was a week afterwards that everything changed.

I was sitting in a conference room, listening to yet another boring meeting. I was being included in adult meetings more often now, as though that would make me think I was being taken seriously. Mostly the meetings were boring as hell, and now that the Empire and the Merchants were gone, there wasn't really a lot to talk about.

The ABB was still working, but they were keeping a very low profile. Officially Lung wasn't afraid of me; he'd fought Leviathan after all. However, I'd defeated Leviathan's big brother, and that wasn't the kind of thing that could be ignored.

The possibility of others moving in to fill the vacuum of power left by the absence of the gangs was discussed, but it seemed that no major gang thought it was a good idea to be in the same city I was.

Smaller offshoot gangs were forming here and there, but they tended to be consisted of groups of ten people or less. None of them had capes, and as such, none of them were considered to be the business of the PRT, even though they had obviously stolen weapons and materials from the gangs that had collapsed. Some of them were undoubtedly former members of the old gangs; I hadn't killed all of them even when I was in my monkey form.

I wondered momentarily whether my ape form would have been able to take on the golden transformation. That would have been a terrible disaster.

Suddenly I stiffened. Someone had arrived on the helipad, someone who hadn't been there a moment before. They'd arrived with Strider, so obviously they'd teleported. Their level of power was large by parahuman standards; they weren't as strong as Alexandria, but they were close.

There were several other people with him. The amount of Ki they had that indicated they were likely also parahumans, even though they weren't anywhere close to having the power that this man had.

"We are going to have some visitors," Piggot said. "From the CUI."

"I think they are already here," I said. "What's going on?"

"The CUI seem to think that they have some parahumans who have... similar abilities to yours," Piggot said. "They are very interested in learning how you achieved your transformation."

"Do we really want them to have that kind of power?" Assault asked, sitting up. "It's bad enough the way it is; you know what it's like over there. Giving them the kind of power she's got... it's not a good idea."

"Alexandria seemed to think it was a good idea," Piggot said. "And the director agreed. The CUI seem to think that it is important enough to make a lot of valuable concessions to the US government, enough that there is a lot of pressure from Washington to make this work."

Alexandria... of course she'd think it was a good idea. One of me meant a single point of failure. More, even if they worked for a horrible dictatorship increased our odds. How much easier would the fight against Behemoth have been if I'd had even one other person as strong as I was?

I felt a sudden chill.

These people were my family. We were directly related, even if only distantly. Would I feel a sense of kinship? Or would there be rivalry? Dad said many members of our family had killed each other over the years.

I stood up.

"I suppose I'd better go meet them."

"Your father is on his way," Piggot said. "Try not to antagonize them."

I stared at her. "You act like I'm going to say something rude."

"They aren't like us," Piggot said smoothly. "Things that wouldn't be an insult here are there. We should have had someone to brief you, but I only got the orders a couple of hours ago."

"And you had me in this meeting?" I asked.

"I had people double checking the veracity of the orders," she said. "It didn't seem likely that we'd give that kind of an advantage to the Chinese. The things they are giving up, though... I can understand why they are considering it."

"There's no guarantee that I can teach them," I said. "I'm still not sure what happened myself."

"You just have to make them believe that you are trying," she said.

I nodded.

For a moment I considered concealing my Ki, but they already knew I was here. I needed to start off on the right foot, especially because if I succeeded, then whoever this was could be the key to my getting stronger.

I'd been bemoaning the lack of opponents; life had dropped a golden opportunity right into my lap.

It took only a moment for me to reach the room, with Armsmaster close behind me. If they were hoping that he would be able to do anything involving diplomacy they were sadly mistaken.

They were standing on the rooftop.

Most of them were young, almost as young as me, but the man in the middle, the one who radiated power was different. I couldn't tell how old he was; he could have been an old twenty or a young forty. He was shorter than I was; short for a man in general, but he was massively muscled. His hair was black, spiky and it was standing up.

He was wearing some sort of black jumpsuit with white boots and gloves He had armor on his chest. He was clean shaven, and he was scowling in my direction.

The others were wearing various forms of martial arts gi in a Chinese style. Unlike him, they were looking around wide eyed and a little scared.

"Hello," I said. "I am Sparta."

"How did you become a super Saiyen?" he asked. "What trick did you use, what drug?"

"Super what?" I asked.

I thought the Chinese were supposed to be all about forming relationships before getting down to business, but he hadn't even bothered introducing himself.

He glanced at Armsmaster and sneered. "You do not even remember what you are. Your people are the degenerate offspring of those who deserted their homeland."

I found myself scowling. He was arrogant in a way I wasn't used to; the fact that I was so much stronger than he was didn't seem to bother him at all. Instead he was demanding answers as though they were his right.

"We're family," I said tightly, "Or I might take offense to that."

"You should." He said. "After all, you are the offensive one."

"Because I was the first to become a super... whatever you said?" I asked. I sneered. "How much must that gall you; I've been doing this for a few months and I'm already here, when you've been at it for what... years? Your people have been trying for this for all this time, and you've failed."

"Perhaps introductions are in order," Armsmaster said awkwardly.

The man didn't even look at him. Instead, he said "I am Shucai. The names of these others do not matter. They are simply here to observe, to learn, and perhaps to become a little stronger in the service of the Emperor."

I stared at him. From what little Alexandria had told me, these people weren't actually members of the Yangban; apparently our powers didn't interact well with their power sharing arrangement. I'd heard that the Yangban were tortured whenever they made mistakes, and that they were given numbers and not names. The fact that Shucai had a name spoke to the importance he must have for the CUI.

The fact that they were here at all suggested that the Chinese were desperate. They generally didn't like the Protectorate at all; they thought they were corrupt and the source of many problems in the world. They had always claimed that they would be the ones to end the Endbringer threat. It must gall them that an American did it first.

"Sparta," I said shortly. "Like I said."

"I will call you Kakkarot." he said.

"Why?"

"Vegetable names are traditional among our kind," he said. "My own name means vegetables in my own tongue. I have named you carrot."

"Carrot?"

"Because you are long and thin and have no curves," he said. "And you are yellow."

I stared at him. He was insulting me when he was asking for my help? What the hell was wrong with him?

"And you're short with funny looking hair," I said. "But I'm not calling you a troll doll, now am I?"

One of the younger ones in the back smirked slightly, although he quickly schooled his expression. None of the others seemed to get the reference.

"The question you should be asking yourself is why I should help you at all?" I said. "Because right now I don't see any reason that I should help someone who has insulted me."

"Your government has made promises," he said stiffly. "And your employer, the Protectorate as well."

"This is America," I said. "Which means that I don't have to do what my government says. Even if I supposedly did have to follow their orders, who could make me?"

"You do not seem so much stronger than I," he said.

I was a little more than twice as strong as he was, even in my base form. If he wanted to posture to save face in front of the others, I wouldn't argue with him.

However, I wasn't going to let him step on me.

Power flared within me, and the world suddenly turned yellow. My mind cleared of everything except anger, and I smirked at him.

"Don't I?"

He took a step back, and all of the others gasped and looked as though they wanted to run away. They didn't seem to have the bravery that they should; they reminded me a little of whipped dogs. They'd been abused so often that they were afraid of their own shadows.

This one was braver than that. He'd seen combat; probably a lot of it.

Given the nature of Chinese society these days, he probably preexisted whatever breeding program the CUI had tried to replicate his power, which was why he was so much braver than they.

Already I could see part of the reason they were failing. Part of what we are is our love of battle. The belief that you would win, and even if you didn't that you would come back and get stronger, that joy in battle was all part of what made us who we were. I had it, dad had it, but the ones standing behind him did not.

The Chinese had been so concerned about stamping out individuality that they'd wiped out the very qualities needed to make the warriors that they wanted.

"You are powerful," he conceded finally. "But you cannot fight the battle to come alone. No one can. We must fight like wolves, or we will fall like coyotes."

Fight like wolves; he'd apparently talked to Alexandria.

I glanced at Armsmaster. I wasn't sure whether he knew about Scion; I had the impression that Alexandria and the others didn't want too many people knowing about him for fear that he'd detect us getting ready for him and attack before we were ready.

"Maybe that's something that we could talk about somewhere else," I said. I let my new form drop away.

"The teaching need not go all one way," he said. "We have been teaching each other techniques for a thousand years, refining knowledge that was acquired from our ancestor and making it our own."

"New techniques?" I asked. "I've got a couple of my own, but I'd love to know what you know."

"Perhaps you aren't the uncultured barbarian that our government thinks you are."

Had he been told unflattering things about me? Was that why he had been so hostile, or was it jealousy? It made sense that he'd resent me if he'd known whatever my golden form was and he'd been trying to get it for years.

He should have shown up for a few more Endbringer fights. It would have worked wonders.

"I probably am," I said. "But I'm the barbarian the world needs right now."

Armsmaster had been looking more and more alarmed during the whole conversation, but now he was looking relieved. Had he really thought we were going to come to blows right on top of the Rig? That would have destroyed the whole structure.

I'd have hit Shucai out into the ocean and we'd have fought there. I'd learned my lesson about collateral damage, and I'd have made sure that no one got hurt.

"Perhaps we can be friends Kakkarot," he said. "And together we will slay the giant."

"Lung has not warranted a kill order," Armsmaster said hurriedly, still clueless.

I sneered at him. "Please. Lung hasn't been a threat to me for weeks."

Shucai chuckled, and the five teenagers behind him all gave fake, nervous laughs.

"Perhaps there are traces of a true Saiyen inside you," he said.

"What's a Saiyen again?" I asked.

He stopped and frowned. "You have much to learn."

"I'm still a super whatever, shrimp," I said. I grinned at him. "Of course, I had pretty decent training."

Garrett and Leet had made their way back from Hawaii with Dad. Apparently huddling in the Endbringer shelter with a bunch of smelly nerds had been less exciting than they'd hoped.

Maybe Garrett could do something with the teenage Saiyens. I'd have my hands full with Shucai.

With some luck, he might even provide me with a decent fight, as long as I didn't go super.