Hatching 2.3
The rest of the town hall passed in a blur after that. The PRT declared everyone was in "temporary custody", which really just meant that Halcyon kept using his power on us until they could sort things out. Foot by foot, the blue haze receded inward and released its captives, allowing the troopers at the edges to only have to deal with only a half dozen or so people at a time.
Being practically at the exit already, Cal and I at least were among the first people to get "thawed out". We were then each taken to separate rooms and subjected to a physical exam and a brief but intense round of questioning. How was I feeling, why I was there, and if I saw anyone suspicious.
It was apparent now we'd been the target of some sort of emotion power. However, besides a headache and dull ache in my joints, I wasn't feeling any lingering deleterious effects. One of the benefits of being turned into a statue in all but name is plenty of time to calm down and clear your head.
I cooperated as best I could, as I sincerely had nothing to do with the riot breaking out. But unfortunately, I also had no choice but to give them my refugee ID number. They were insistent on checking before they let me leave, so trying some sort of fake name or number would have only confirmed in their minds I had something to hide.
Perhaps my straightforwardness was why they ended up releasing me so quickly. After learning I was a refugee and determining I hadn't gone there with the intent of causing trouble, maybe they thought they'd be able to keep a close eye back at the camp in case I was hiding something. Jokes on them, I didn't intend to go back there ever again after what I'd heard and seen.
And I strongly suspected there were many others who were thinking the exact same thing.
As I stepped out of the classroom that had been turned into a makeshift "interrogation room", I heard a familiar voice.
"Ben!"
Cal looked and sounded relieved as he ran up to me. The PRT troopers escorting the both of us tensed at the sudden movement, but I thought it unlikely that they'd give us any more trouble. After all…
I looked up the hall at the freshly-thawed civilians still waiting to be processed, all looking a bit more bruised or otherwise disheveled than they'd been an hour ago. They likely couldn't afford to waste any more time with us, they had plenty on their plate already.
"You alright, Cal?"
He nodded, then winced as he rubbed flexed and rubbed his neck. I gave my own neck a sympathetic rub. Being frozen in place in awkward poses for as long had made our muscles seize up.
We walked out together, passing several people in green in the process of getting arrested. Presumably the ones that the PRT determined were the first ones to start throwing punches. The ones that hadn't already escaped in all the confusion, that is.
I was more concerned that Gavin Hawley, the man who'd set the whole thing off, wasn't present. If I suspected anyone of being the parahuman that kicked off the riot it was him. Things hadn't gone downhill until he opened his mouth. Then again, it was possible one of the other hundreds of people present had used him as a scapegoat, or had clumsily used their newfound powers in an attempt to turn the public against him. The big man was if nothing else annoyingly anti-cape, and this disaster would likely only serve to help his case.
Had he been already arrested, or had he managed to escape when the riot started? The answer was uncertain, but I wasn't about to ask and draw any more attention to myself than I already had.
And thus a half hour after being thawed out, we were standing back outside, still stretching away the lingering stiffness. The remainder of the town hall was "postponed to a later date", which probably meant the whole idea was as good as cancelled. I couldn't imagine Highrise at least making the mistake of showing his face around here after receiving such a… heated reception.
"Well," I breathed, rubbing a kink out of my neck. "… That sucked."
Cal was off to the side, leaning against the side of the building. Standing in the shade and shielded from the morning sun, the shadows made the lines of his emaciated face look even more ghoulish.
I scratched the back of my head. Right. Cal had been hoping this whole thing would have cheered him up. And I'd hoped this meeting would have allowed me the chance to score some followers. Well, mission not accomplished on both fronts.
I was suddenly very aware of the fact we were still very close to the building.
"Hey Cal," I called, looking around as if I'd spot a costumed supervillain standing there. "Maybe we should stand over by the gate? If Liam comes out somewhere else, he'll have to pass us there."
That was true, but more importantly it would easily allow me to bolt down the street if anyone else started acting strangely.
I'd been anxious the whole time I'd been in PRT custody, something they had no problem pointing out in my questioning. I wasn't sure if my genuine, barely concealed panic had helped my "just a confused civilian" act or not, but I really just wanted to get as far away from there as possible.
In any case, my plans for the day were thoroughly ruined now. Between Hawley riling everyone up against capes and the rather… decisive response by Halcyon, I highly doubted anyone else coming out of the building would be interested in hearing my sales pitch right now.
The PRT hadn't told Cal and I anything regarding a mass-master power being used to kick off the riot, but I'd already known not to trust anything they did or didn't say. Revealing that a hostile, mind-controlling parahuman had slipped in under their noses to help spark a riot would do more to hurt their case than help it.
Even if they shared my suspicions of parahuman involvement, the fact they'd still let us all go suggested they weren't worried about the effect being permanent. That ruled out Heartbreaker, at least. From my hazy recollection of the Worm timeline I didn't think any of his kids had triggered yet, and I doubted that particular psycho was capable of being that subtle regardless.
As I sat there and mused, I recalled all the little things I'd been forced to ignore. The way everyone had let Hawley go on, the way I'd barely been able to bring myself to stand up to him, and everyone's noticeable aggression and confusion even before it had been ramped up. I took the fact I could cognizantly recall I recently had not entirely been myself as a good sign.
Then again… what if I was being mastered again right now and just couldn't tell. I gave myself a once-over, as if I'd be able to see the master/stranger's power clinging to me like a horrible parasite… No dice, I'd just assume for now I was indeed free and the master/stranger was long gone.
If anything, I felt good. The pressure from holding my power in gone, I was thinking and analyzing clearer than ever. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to have been able to flip that guy in the auditorium as quickly as I did. But, I supposed the lack of use as well as an aggressive mindset either resulted in a built-up "charge"... or my power intentionally bent "the rules" for me.
'Thanks, Passenger.'
No response, as per usual. Conflict drive apparently sated for now, my constant companion had slinked back into "dormancy" at the back of my head.
I didn't say anything to the PRT or Cal about my theories though, because why tip my hand? Until I had proof of something bigger at work, spreading scary rumors didn't benefit anyone. Not that I was looking to solve this mystery. No, to me all this little debacle did was drive home the importance of getting the hell out of town, as quickly as possible.
Cal and I stood by the gate for several minutes, watching as the rest of the crowd slowly filtered out. Many of them were groaning or complaining about aching joints while others seemed to be in some sort of fugue, their expressions still vaguely dazed. Despite my worst fears, Heartbreaker -or any other would-be supervillain for that matter- failed to make an appearance.
"… Do you see him anywhere?"
Another pause as Cal pursed his lips, then shook his head. "Not yet."
The third member of our group was nowhere to be seen. I'd hoped we'd get outside to find him waiting for us. No such luck.
And so we had to wait as more people came out, often looking as stiff and disoriented as we'd been as a result of being frozen in place. Many fled the building at either a run or a brisk jog, crossing the street as they left as if the place was radioactive. Things briefly got a bit more interesting when the ambulance showed up.
Unsurprising, considering how many people had been throwing punches and kicks at each other. Someone was bound to get hurt badly enough they couldn't just walk it off. We briefly feared that Liam was hurt, but that concern was dispelled as we got a look at the people getting carried out and realized he wasn't among them.
I spotted the Ward girl, Nymph, on the roof ten minutes after we took our spot. I pointed her out to Cal in an attempt to cheer him up.
He gave no response.
Even from a distance the teenage heroine looked… sullen. She stood there on the edge for a good while, watching the people leave. Those that acknowledged her presence were vastly outnumbered by those that made a point of intentionally ignoring her. I felt a wince of sympathy as I watched her slink away from the edge and back out of sight.
'So far out of your depth it isn't even funny. You and me both, kid.'
Five minutes passed, then ten, then thirty. As an hour passed by and the sun continued to climb higher and higher in the sky, Cal seemed to wilt further and further. He grew sullen, more withdrawn, his voice growing softer before becoming barely audible at all. Finally, he simply stopped responding to me entirely.
On top of that, whatever mind rape we'd just been subjected to seemed oriented towards stirring up our negative emotions. Apathy, doubt, paranoia, anger… All the things Cal had been trying to put off feeling with his manic fixation on heroes, now laid painfully bare. And it had been done by an invasive use of superpowers, no less .
Even trying some cape trivia and digging for details into Team Halifax's powers didn't get a reaction beyond a dejected sigh. Today had clearly been an eye-opener to him to the dark side of cape-ing, and it had been a pretty damn ugly one to boot.
It was almost noon when we realized Liam wasn't coming.
The other groups of people milling around gradually tapered off as the missing members of their groups came stumbling out the door. Even I shut my mouth as I realized the awkward truth: that we were the only ones left.
"Maybe he's still inside?" I ventured. Cal said nothing. I swallowed.
I walked over to the door and tried it. Locked. Knocking got no response. Shouting didn't either.
"…He ditched us, didn't he?" Cal's voice was so hollow I could cry.
"Possibly." I sighed. "Maybe he's still- Hey!"
Cal was walking away, out the school gate and down the street.
"Hey Cal, wait up!"
Cal was walking fast and breathing hard, but not so much that it was hard to catch up to him. He ignored the deep puddles and sticky mud that lined the trash filled road, opting instead to walk right through them.
"Hey man, what the hell?" I asked as I came up next to him. "Hey, Cal! I'm talking to you-!"
With a yell he abruptly spun and kicked an overstuffed metal trash can lying on the side of the road. The metal container immediately fell into the street, spilling its rancid contents. I couldn't tell the degree of filth lying around it was because more people in town meant more trash, or if basic social services weren't even functioning anymore.
He kicked the can a few more times, while I quickly glanced around to make sure no one was watching us. Finally, after leaving a sizable dent in the side, he mutely stepped away and sat down on the curb, knees drawn up to his chest. If it wasn't for the clouds of vapor made whenever he exhaled, he could easily have been a statue for how still he was.
I could reason what this was about. Exhaling, I sat down on the curb next to him. "Hey."
"…Hey."
We're already at rock bottom, so I might as well be blunt about this. I opened my mouth, then closed it, and then opened it again. "… I heard about the casualty report."
Cal said nothing. I pressed on.
"Listen, I know you're in a dark place right now, but I'm here for you."
When Cal failed to respond, but at least also failed to have another freak out, I continued. I laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Rather than recoil, he leaned into the comforting gesture. "If you want to talk to me about it, you can."
For a few minutes, it seemed like he wasn't going to take me up on the offer.
"I…I don't have anything now. No one." His voice was hollow, empty.
"No-one?" I blinked.
Something that had been bothering me back in camp suddenly returned to the forefront of my mind. Despite Cal making it clear his home wasn't in Newfoundland, despite the fact his family lived elsewhere, he still lived in the camp. For almost two weeks? Why?
Answer: He'd chosen to stay here rather than go back home.
"But, back in camp… you said you have parents-"
"-Who hate me," he continued. "Same with my sister."
"…Oh," I finally said, uncertain how I was supposed to respond to that.
Cal nodded.
"We didn't… exactly part on good terms when I left for school." He rubbed his shoulders, hugging himself. "It's part of the reason I moved so far away. That was my only way out. And now I… I don't think I can ever go home. My uncles were the only ones out of the whole family who would take me in. Now that they're gone…" He choked back a sob. "… I'd rather die than go back."
…Oh
.
I blinked but kept my expression carefully neutral. I could tell there was a complicated history there. A statement as definitive as that with no real explanation given as to why that was probably an invitation to pry… but I didn't take it.
Like I said before, Cal could have his Greg-style awkward moments, but this one probably took the cake. He was clearly venting a lot of the emotional baggage he'd no doubt been carrying all this time. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to navigate this particular emotional minefield in a way that would satisfy him.
I had more experience in the bottling up side of stress than the venting side.
This was a lot to take in before I could even consider how to help with his feelings… or at least use them to my advantage.
So I took the only guaranteed winning move in that situation, by simply refusing to play. I sat in silence next to him for some time, letting his words hang between us as we watched the world go by. After a few minutes passed he seemed to realize I wasn't going to press for details and let out a deep sigh. Some of the tension dispelled between us, neither of us really willing to press into a deep subject.
"Things here… they aren't gonna get any better, are they?"
"…No."
Up to this point in life, I'd never had a lot of people I could truly call friends. That didn't mean I'd ever been alone, but there had always been a degree of isolation between myself and others. In school, I'd always had a way of attracting outcasts to myself. The overly-emotional, the social pariahs and the chronically awkward all seemed to find their way to my corner of the cafeteria without prompting from my part.
When I was a teen, I'd been a quiet boy. Someone who didn't see the point in finding pointless noise to add to the conversation. If I didn't have anything important to say, I preferred to say nothing at all. I think the fact that I was willing to tolerate the outcasts' company when most others would have just plain avoided them was why they grew to open up to me. The experience taught me the value of an underappreciated skill: being a good listener.
You'd be amazed at the information people will volunteer about themselves, given minimal prompting.
I could spot the difference between a person honestly looking to talk, and someone who just wanted to spill their guts to someone they could count on not to judge them, to not turn around and spill their secrets a few minutes later. And I could tell Cal was in the midst of a meltdown in the latter category.
"Those heroes just wanted to help everyone," he rambled, not really listening to me. "I thought it would be cool, seeing the heroes all on stage, but Hawley… those guys cheering him on… they were acting like they went in there looking to pick a fight with them. Hell, maybe they did. Halcyon and Highrise didn't bring Leviathan here, so what the hell sense does treating them they're responsible for what the monster did!?"
Replace "Leviathan" with "Scion" and that's an argument the normals in Ward really needed to hear, my dude.
From experience, this would be the time to cut in with something consoling, something to break his downward spiral.
"People have a lot of ugliness inside them, Cal. Sometimes they only need a little push to make it come out." I shook my head. "You're wiser than you think. Unlike the people in there, you can see this is a situation where there's no bad guy to pin the blame on."
Calming slightly, he looked over at me with something akin to awe. "And you… you stood up when Hawley was starting to win over the crowd. Made him look stupid, and then stood up to the that guy that wanted to beat us up. How… how did you know what to do?"
I blinked. Was it really that incredible?
"I just… kind of did," I confessed. "It's like I've been saying, man. Desperate people do desperate things in order to be heard. Sometimes otherwise decent people go crazy when they're pushed to the brink. All I did was see the signs a storm was brewing and moved to get the hell out of its way."
That, and the fact I'd gone into the meeting already on edge, always entertaining the possibility of something like that. I was in a Wildbow story, where if you weren't constantly fighting uphill tooth and nail, things would only get astronomically worse. A cozy little town hall where people calmly asked questions and everyone had a good time? Gatherings like that practically had an "VILLAINS: ATTACK HERE" sign above the door in flashing lights at all times.
Callum looked at me like I just grew a second head. Then he started laughing. A deep, belly laugh, something so totally out of place it instantly creeped me out.
If he suddenly triggered right now, it really wouldn't surprise me at all.
"You, you make it sound…" he got out between hiccups of laughter. "You make it sound so easy. I didn't see that at all."
"I wish I'd ended up like you said, Ben." One of my eyebrows shot up. "I can't stop thinking about what you said, about bad days unlocking a person's powers. I'm having the worst time of my life, but I didn't change. I don't have anything special about me, nothing I can brag about."
"You're still alive, Cal. You have your health."
He gave a broken laugh. "That's the thing, though. I keep wishing I didn't."
"… Excuse me?"
Cal ignored me, still chuckling and hugging himself.
"Ever since you said what you said the day you left about how people get their powers, I keep finding myself wishing I'd ended up even worse, then at least I might have triggered. Then I could have been a cape and actually done something about my life. Then I'd have been special."
"I didn't lose anyone; my parents, my sister, they're both still alive, and they still hate me for something that isn't even my fault just because I-!" He clenched his teeth, then went on ranting. "I didn't get sick or lose an arm or a leg or anything. And then I see shit like those people k… killing each other in there because they're hurting so much and I remember how horrible it is that I think so little of people missing limbs and families I wish I was like them just so I'd have powers, and how shitty a human being that makes me."
Triggering didn't… quite work that way. Some people simply didn't have the potential, sometimes the shard passed over the person it was intended for a shot at a better host. And to top it off, sadly, Cal looking to trigger paradoxically disqualified him from having one. A shard needed genuine life-or-death-level distress to connect.
But none of these facts were things the rambling, self-destructing young man in front of me wanted or needed to hear.
"Cal, you're not a bad person," I protested. "I've never seen you be anything but decent to everyone you've met so far. Thinking superpowers are cool and wishing you had them doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you human. A human being that wants to succeed, totally normal like everyone else."
Cal at least seemed to cool down a little at that. I dared to rest a hand on his shoulder again. He didn't stop me.
"You think I'm special for standing up? Remind me if I'm wrong, but I seem to recall you were right behind me when I called Hawley out on his bullshit. You pushed me aside when that guy tried to pick a fight."
"That was only because you went first-!"
"And how many other people did you see following me, hm?" I chuckled. "First, second, third… It doesn't really matter the order, it still takes an impressive amount of willpower to shake off the hold of mob mentality at all. I'm not going to pretend I know the first thing about what happened with your parents, or what it's like to have your surrogate parents die, but if anyone told me you're not special because you can't fly or incinerate people with your mind, I'd call them a goddamn liar."
Cal gave me that weird look again, the same one he'd gotten when I'd complimented him for saving his silly question for the heroes for when there wasn't a crisis. A complex mix of emotions flashed across his face. And again, he turned away before it could settle on an expression I could place.
We sat there in silence for a few moments. I was starting to fear I'd said something wrong, right before Cal reached up and squeezed the hand I'd placed on his shoulder.
"…Thanks."
We stayed there for a few more minutes. Taking in the world, wondering how things could have ever gotten so screwed up. I sighed.
It was a shame that wanting a trigger event prevented you from having one. I obviously wouldn't say it out loud, but Callum had to be the saddest man alive right now. If anyone deserved to suddenly develop abilities that would let him turn his life around, it was hi-
…
...
…
...Huh.
Maybe this day wouldn't be such a waste after all.
"…Callum~" I said in a sing-song voice.
"…Hm?"
He turned his head back to me, even I grew aware of the corners of my mouth slowly stretching into a grin.
"Not discounting anything I just said or anything, but …What if there was a way?"
Cal raised his head minutely as he glanced up at me. "…What?"
"What if there was a way for you to get superpowers? To change your life?" I smiled and spread my arms wide. "And what if that path to power could only be obtained… through me?"
Cal stood up very slowly, giving me a very nervous once over. "Ben…" he said evenly, noticeably sobering. "What are you saying?"
While people back home would probably laugh off what I was implying as some sort of joke, the people in Bet knew differently. Joking about superpowers here was no joke at all. It was about as serious as bragging about your bomb-making skills in an airport.
I silently steeled myself as I stood up, then took the plunge.
"Callum… I am a cape."
His eyes widened. He stiffened, looking at me in an entirely new light. "You… you're serious?"
"Completely, Callum."
His eyes widened in understanding. "The guy back in the gym… that was.. that was you-?"
"Using an aspect of my power? Yes." I nodded. I gave him what I hoped was my most sincere look. "You'll be the first one that I've revealed my secret to. Because I trust you, Cal."
"How… How long have you…?" He swallowed. "…Known?"
"Since the night Leviathan came."
I took his open gaping as an invitation to continue.
"Not only am I a cape, I am a cape with a very unique power: I have the ability to bestow parahuman powers upon others." I extended my hand to him. He flinched, just for a moment. "If you form a contract with me, agree to use your newfound abilities to help me achieve my goals, and I will grant you the power you've always wanted."
His gaze rapidly alternated between my outstretched hand and my face, searching for something. "This… Doesn't seem like a heroic offer."
"And you fear that makes me a villain?" I could sense his hesitation… and yet, he was still clearly tempted. Even though he suspected he'd be joining with a villain.
Interesting.
I considered my next words very carefully. "I can promise you I don't intend to use my power against the heroes, Cal."
True… for now.
"… But you must understand that this power would make me an incredible asset to groups both heroic and villainous. If I went to them now, with nothing but my raw powers to my name, I'm sure they'd take me in. But in doing so, I'm also certain they'd twist my arm, force me to join their team and never let me leave."
"The heroes wouldn't do that!" he protested, but even he knew the conviction behind his words was flimsy at best. It couldn't be anything but flimsy, after all he'd just seen.
"Then we haven't been living under constant surveillance for over a week, over the possibility of one person in a thousand possibly having a power? Even a potentially worthless one?" I asked, making him flinch. "That… farce back there might have been kicked off by that Hawley bastard, but you have to admit the way Highrise and his buddies have been handling things didn't exactly make it hard for that asshole to light the powder keg."
I could see his pain was my words cut deep, the vulnerabilities he'd shared in the conversation we'd just had thrown back in his face. He desperately wanted to challenge me there, but he knew he couldn't.
"They'd be nice about it I'm certain," I conceded. "There would be incentives: a place to stay, a hefty paycheck, maybe even some limited fame as long as I kept making capes for them and them alone. But with the ability I control, I'm far too dangerous to be allowed to operate independently. I would never have true freedom: a prisoner in a gilded cage."
…Right up until the more… subtle drawbacks of my power became apparent, then I'm certain I'd be in for a far less pleasant "permanent retirement" if I was lucky.
He was openly staring at my hand now. Not even blinking as my words sunk in, until his eyes slowly traveled up to meet my own. His voice came out in a whisper. "I…I don't want to be a villain."
I wondered if he was trying to convince me of that, or himself.
"And you assume because I don't want to be an active crime-fighter that automatically makes me one?" I smiled without mockery or scorn. "Rogue capes do exist, rare as they are. Capes that use their power for personal gain or just choose to reject the 'hero vs. villain' mentality most capes adopt. I intend to become one of them. With my services and the abilities my homemade capes could provide, we would be a formidable force. You and I could be a formidable force."
"So… it would all be entirely legal?" he asked hopefully, eyes brightening. I was sorry to have to disappoint him.
"Well, I didn't say that, either." I have an apologetic shrug, and then added quickly: "If you join me, I might need some things done that are technically outside of the law in order to get started."
"Killing people?"
"Of course not!" I objected firmly, honestly surprised.
Well, that totally came out of the blue. I was honestly a little hurt Cal thought I was capable of that. Well… granted, some people would likely have to die at some point, but only monsters like Jack Slash or Kaiser. I didn't intend to make a habit of killing random people who got in my way.
I did have some sensibilities.
"A few under the table deals here, exploit a few legal loopholes there…" I made a hand waving gesture. "This won't be so much of an issue once we get off the ground and we've secured enough capital to get comfortably settled elsewhere. Anywhere but here. Once I've gathered enough of a following and resources to be able to operate openly without being taken advantage of, it should be smooth sailing."
"I told you before that there's a storm coming, and today we saw the first signs of it. Already we've got cape sightings, news of villains wrecking a supply convoy, and the unpowered are ready to riot at the drop of a hat. In all that chaos, people aren't going to miss a few things that would have been broken or stolen anyway. And desperate people I'm betting will pay well for goods that function better than what's available on the market."
I shrugged. "…Within reason, of course. I'm no ripoff artist."
He still seemed hesitant, so I quickly kept talking.
"I promise, I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do. Please understand, it's just not possible to conduct fully honest business in an environment like this. Not with villains around the corner and psychos running loose in the streets. I need something of an edge here, man! Once this is over and we're free and clear, we likely won't have to resort to desperate measures to get by again."
"…And if I refuse?" his voice grew hard as he searched my expression. I let the silence linger for a moment, until Callum took a step back.
Perhaps he was thinking I'd kill him, suddenly shoot lasers out of my eyes and vaporize him on the spot for the high crime of telling me what I didn't want to hear.
Finally, I just casually shrugged. "…Then you walk away."
Callum gave me a rather incredulous look.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth Cal, I really am." I said and meant it. "But I wasn't sure how you'd react. But despite that, I'm begging you to understand… I'm still me, man. I'm still the same guy I was before the town hall. The guy that saved you from that guy that was about to tear you apart. The same guy that liked to make you laugh, talk capes with and helped cheer the rest of the group up."
His expression softened, and I hoped that was a sign I was getting through. "Even if I withheld the truth of my nature from you, I'd like to think you've gotten to know me well enough to know I wouldn't hurt you. But if that's what it takes…"
I raised one hand dramatically. "I hereby solemnly promise as a parahuman: neither I nor anyone I empower after this talk will take vengeance against you for refusing my offer. This oath will be the same oath I swear to anyone else we deal with, of course."
"And if you really don't trust me to not cause trouble, you can even go ahead and report me to the PRT if you like."
If it came to that, I'd deny everything and tell them I was joking with him, of course. They couldn't force me to use my powers, and I doubted they could detain me to bring in power detector capes without some form of probable cause. That sort of concentrated effort to unmask a possible cape would not sit well with anyone, civilian and cape authorities alike.
Assuming they let any word of it get out, but that was beside the point.
"…"
My expression softened. "Cal, I'm making you this offer because I trust you, even if you might not trust me anymore. Regardless of what you think of yourself, I know you have a good head on your shoulders. I've been sitting on this power for two weeks, and haven't used it once before today. That's because I want to make sure the people I entrust with these powers can be trusted."
More specifically 'trusted to not betray me', but that's something he didn't need to know.
"I don't need an unthinking henchman, or a sycophant to only tell me what he thinks I want to hear. I want to get things started with a good second in command. Someone that can see any flaws I miss in my plans, bring me back if I start going too far."
I gave him my warmest smile. "I wouldn't offer this to you if I didn't see in you the potential for great things. Let's accomplish that greatness together."
A little flattery mixed with the implication he could be a hero in a small way. Making sure this incredible power was used for good. And it would, whether he joined me or not. The greater good.
… Which just so happened to coincide with making me very, very rich and powerful in the process.
He was almost there, I could tell. He was teetering, his desire for power and belonging, wrestling with his reservations. Only at this moment did I understand, did I see why my "predecessor" enjoyed making such offers to people.
The sensation of not only being powerful but also being desired was… intoxicating.
I proffered my hand, wiggling my fingers invitingly. "Callum Shaw… will you join me?"