Spartan: Year One

by Dante Syon

In a world without heroes, 14 yearold Kyle Wyatt is your average teenager: He hangs out with friends, goes to school, all that stuff. But when he's accidently exposed to his eccentric widower father cancer vaccine, he gains powers not unlike to those of S

Spartan: Year One

By: Thomas Waters Prologue

The alarm clock rings. 6:15 a.m. Time for school. Fun.

My name is Kyle Wyatt. I really don't know who I am, so I can't really describe that to you, so…yeah. I can give you the basics, however. I live in Edmont, New York, a nice, pretty town. I was born November twenty-first, 1991, so that makes me fourteen one month ago. I have glasses, shaved red hair (so red that my friends call me a 'Ginger Kid' at school). My eyes are steel blue, and have an acne beard. I enjoy reading, writing, video games, comics, and hanging out with friends. I live alone with Thomas Wyatt, my father, if you could call him that. He's always around, sure, but he's so into his work it's like sometimes I'm not even there. Not that I can really blame him for acting like that though. Losing the love of your life to cancer will do that to you.

From what I remember (and from things I later found out), her name was Nina. She had wavy blonde hair, and, according to my father, was strong, stubborn, and vivacious. She died when I was six, and since then my father, a man years ahead of his time in all medical fields, devoted most of his day to trying to figure out a cure for cancer. We only survive because of weekly checks sent from the Science Board in D.C. I pretty much handle all the money, and I'm pretty much the pillar that keeps my dad from collapsing. I don't hate him though. I love him. But sometimes I wish we would hang out, just him and me. Go to a Yankee game sometime. Or…visit my moms' grave.

That's right. Since her funeral, I haven't visited my mothers' grave. My father, when confronted about it, said it brought up too many painful memories. I'd go alone, but the grave's in Kaenston, half an hour away from here.

Anyway, I got into my school uniform. That's right, at Riverside High, you have to wear a uniform. At ALL times. If you're a guy, you have to wear a white dress shirt, dark shoes (not sneakers), navy blue or black pants, and a matching jacket. If you're a girl, you have to wear stockings, a white blouse, and a navy blue or black skirt. It's a real bitch during the spring and summer, let me tell you…

As I left the room, I brushed my fingers against the one picture I have of my mom. I took two bucks from my bank for lunch, then left.

I went to the door to leave when I looked in my dad's lab. As I suspected, he was asleep at the keyboard. I walked inside. Let me tell you something: His lab is a mess. Think a garbage dump multiplied by fifty. I don't know how exactly he gets things done in here. I woke the old man up.

"Dad", I said. "Wake up, it's morning." He stirred and finally woke up. "Where…where am I?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and answered, "Your lab, Dad. The same place you are every morning. And afternoon. And night." He squinted at me, as if trying to place who I was, even though he knew perfectly well. Four hours of sleep'll do that to you. I looked harder at him. He looks like a black haired version of me, just without the glasses and instead of an acne beard, a real one lined his lower face.

"Kyle", he said, finally remembering my name, "I need you to go the store now. We're out of soda. And beer." He took a crumpled twenty out of his pocket and placed it on the desk. I grabbed it so it would not get lost in the mess. I turned around, determined not to look at him. "Dad, a)I have school today. b)I know we're out of soda, as I finished it and told you that yesterday. And c)I CAN'T FUCKING BUY ANY BEER. I'M ONLY FOURTEEN YEARS OLD!" But when I turned around for a response, Thomas Wyatt, forty-two, was already asleep on his keyboard again. I went to leave and sighed. Eh, I thought. I'll go after school.

One

At 7:00, I got off the bus and turned off my MP3 player (for you nosy bastards, I was listening to Perfect Situation by Weezer). After visiting my locker and getting the books I needed for the day, I went to visit my three best friends; Leon Allain, Jackson Crichton, and Briana Walker.

Leon is quite possibly my best friend out of all my other best friends. That makes no sense, I know, but still. I've known him since, I dunno, pre-school. We hit it off almost immediately, and have been best friends strong ever since. He has an odd fascination with guns (a contrast to my love of swords) and is a huge baseball fan. HUGE. Did I mention huge? He's about my height, with shaved black hair and no glasses. Lucky SOB…

I met Jackson about two years ago at a comic shop. I was reading Batman, he was reading Spider-Man. We started talking, and realized that we had a lot in common, so we started to hang out. Eventually, he was part of our group. It seemed like he always had been. He has an…. odd fear of horses, a fear that stems from one of the most bizarre and disturbing incidents I've ever heard, an incident I will spare your virgin ears from hearing…Erm, spare your virgin eyes from reading. He's built, and has brown-blonde hair, but is about two inches shorter than myself.

Briana is, well, amazing. That's a huge understatement. She's about 5'1, has shoulder length dirty blonde hair that's usually tied up in a knot or ponytail, and is normal when it comes to body-type.

. Damn, she hits hard. As you no doubt have guessed, I really like her. It's somewhat of an open secret between the two of us, and only Leon and Jackson know the whole story about much love I feel for her.

I saw the three if them talking by our usual spot, right in the cafeteria. I snuck up behind Briana and poked her in her side. She literally jumped about three feet in the air. When she landed she turned around and jokingly glared at me. "What're you smirking at?" she said. "Nothing," I said, smirking. "Uh-huh."

Jackson cut in, "Excuse me for interrupting this pathetic attempt at flirtation, but the bell's about to ring." I blushed. "Horse," I said. Jackson yelped. We all laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Oh yeah; we laughed. I patted Jackson on the shoulder. "Ah, you know I love ya, Jackie Boy." That's my nickname for him. It pisses him off endlessly. "Don't. Call. Me. Jackie Boy."

The bell rang. Jackson and I said good-bye to Briana and Leon as we made way for art class with the devil herself, Mrs. Samantha Seafard.

Five minutes later, the late bell rang, and Mrs. Seafard (a chain-smoking crack whore in the opinions of Jackson and myself) kindly silenced the class: "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU BITCHES AND BASTARDS!"

See? I told you it was kind.

"Jesus Christ," she wheezed. "Can't you assholes just act human for once in your useless lives?" "We'll start when you start," I muttered to Jackson. He snickered. In an instant, Seafard hovered over us like an overgrown bat. "What was that, you little shit monkey?" "Nothing, Mrs. Seafard," I said completely innocently. To add to the effect, I batted my eyelashes at her. She walked away, disgusted. I smirked, and Jackson fell to the ground, laughing like a maniac. "Horse," I sighed.

He was back on his seat in less than ten seconds.

Two

Compared to art class, the rest of the day was uneventful; we had a fire drill, I got a C+ on my math test, and I failed in my attempt to ask Briana out. So yeah, my day pretty much sucked ass.

I walked home alone, brooding over how much I suck with females. I stopped by the store and got the soda for Dad, and was able to get a homeless guy to buy me beer in exchange for…money to buy beer. When I walked into the house, I called for my dad. "Dad! I got the beer!" No answer. I shoved the beer and soda into the fridge, actually stopped to smell the odor emanating from said fridge, then removed the drinks and put them next to it. I proceeded into my fathers' lab to see what was up.

I found him absorbed in data. He looked more awake then I'd ever seen him. "Uh…Dad? What's going on?" I asked. "A huge medical breakthrough," he answered briskly. "By mixing the blood of any arachnid, in this case a spider, with a chemical known as XDR-27, cancer, along with any other known disease, can be prevented and cured." He then started this huge medical-lingo rant, which I could not understand in the slightest. "I call this vaccine," he concluded, "Phoenix." He tapped a series of keys on his keyboard, and out of nowhere, a syringe containing a glowing silver liquid appeared. "This is my lives work, Kyle. The syringe you see here contains a mere prototype, and I still need to conduct a months work of more tests on it, but…" he said, finally turning to face me, "I think I've done it, son."

I was shocked. I knew my dad was obsessed with his work, but, frankly, I never thought he'd achieve it. I never told him as much though. This meant so much more for me than curing cancer (though that was in itself an astounding feat). It meant me and my dad could finally be a family. I walked over to the old man to embrace him, but stumbled over a book lying on the floor. I fell and my forearm landed directly on the needle of the syringe and all of Phoenix was injected into me. I got up, grasping my arm. My dad and I looked at each other silently for what seemed like forever. He was the first to react.

"You dumbass! Do you realize what the hell you've done? That was the only workable strain I had, and I don't have any more XDR-27 on me! It will take me 6 MONTHS to procure it and create a new strain, then another 6 months testing it out! To top that off, you've been injected with a potentially fatal serum. Now I'm going to have to keep you at home for a few weeks to make sure you don't die on me! As if you're math grade could get any worse, now it's going to suffer more for this! I did NOT need this now, Kyle!"

That was it. I'd had it. "First of all, Thomas," I said, placing emphasis on his name, "you don't know a thing about me. You don't know any of my teachers' names, or my friends' names. I'm surprised you know I'm doing bad in math! Second, you're not keeping me here!" I know some teens would jump at the chance to not go to school, but that's the only place I can see Briana, and I'm not giving that up. "I have a life to live. You would to, if you'd just let mom's death go! For god's sake, it's been eight years now, and we haven't even been to her grave!"

That was it. The "clincher", so to speak. I'd gotten to him. As soon as I mentioned Mom, his expression changed from one of anger to one of sadness. "Kyle, I…" "No, Dad. It's too late. I'm gone." And, like that, I was out the door.

I walked around town for hours, right up until twilight. I felt bad about what I'd said, even though it was true. I turned to head back home. On my way, I saw an old couple walking across the street. I smiled at the thought of that someday being Briana and me, and for a moment that image entered my head. It was quickly banished, however, by the sight of an electrical wire about to fall on them. Where it came from, I don't know, nor do I care. What I do know is that I had to do something.

Without thinking, I dashed across the street, leaped, and pushed the old people out of the way (which, in hindsight, wasn't very smart, seeing that they're, you know, old and all). The wire landed on me and shocked me, obviously, but I felt another strange sensation, an indescribable feeling. Then I fell into darkness.

Three

As if by magic, I woke up in own bed, with the face of my Dad staring directly at me. I screamed. He screamed. Everybody screamed –screamed.

After the screaming, and subsequent laughter, I asked, "What the fuck happened?" My Dad, taking a deep breath before starting, said, "Well, you're rather loud argument woke me up. I realized I haven't been a good father. But I plan on fixing that. But you asked me what happened, and I deviated from that. From what the doctors at the hospital told me, and from my experience, you pushed away an elderly couple from an electrical wire, which proceeded to land on you. You should have died."

"But nothing against you personally," Leon said, walking in with Leon trailing behind him. "What the hell are you guys doing here?" I asked. "I called them when it looked like you were waking up, along with that girl Briana," Dad said. "How'd you get their numbers?" I asked. Jackson answered for him. "You have a sheet with all our numbers tacked to a wall. It's hard to miss." I rolled my eyes at him. "Where's Briana then?" Leon sighed before answering. "She wishes she could come, dude, but she had a karate tournament today that she couldn't miss."

I was somewhat saddened by the news, but my curiosity over how I survived overwhelmed it. "So…", I asked, "How DID I survive? It was the communist monkeys, wasn't it?"

Dad began again, ignoring my monkey comment: "You have an incredibly rare anomaly in your blood, Kyle. When Phoenix was injected into your bloodstream, it reacted…oddly…with it. There were no internal or external changes, as far as I could tell in my simulations anyway, until the electricity ran through your body. Your bloodstream acted as a sort of conduit for the electricity, which, though putting you into a coma, left you relatively unharmed. Although…" he began to trail off, looking confused.

"Dad…? You can tell me. I'll find out anyway, eventually." Taking this as something encouraging, he nodded and started again. "The electricity catalyzed some genetic changes in your body."

"Uh…are these changes bad?" I asked. "Because, you know, I don't wanna die!" Dad laughed. "Far from it, Kyle. Come, get out of bed. I'll tell you everything.' He turned to Leon and Jackson. "You guys should go on home." The two looked pleadingly at me. I thought for a minute, then said, "Dad, I'll tell them everything when I see them next. And, knowing me, I'll screw something up in the descriptions. It'd be best if they hear it from someone who knows what they're talking about." Dad closed his eyes for a minute, then nodded. "Let's go."

On the way down to the lab, I noticed that I could see perfectly, though my glasses were not present. I also noticed that Leon and Jackson were staring at me. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not swing that way." It's an in-joke between us, usually gets at least a smile. Today, however, this was not the case. "What's up guys?" "Your acne beard," Leon began, "It's all gone." My eyes widened. I looked to Jackson for confirmation. He gave me a surprised nod. I felt my face, and sure enough, all my acne bumps were gone. "Dad." I asked. "What's going-" "In a minute," he interjected. Okay…, I thought. This isn't weird at all.

When we arrived at the lab, it was surprisingly neat and organized. Adorned on the walls were diagrams of a body. My body. "Okay Dad, we're at the lab. I want answers. Now." Out of nowhere, he chuckled. "What's so funny?" He smiled sadly. "Nothing, it's just…you're a lot like your mom, is all."

At that moment, I knew that what he said in my room, about wanting to change our relationship, he meant. My face went red. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jackson about to say something condescending. Before he could say it, I said, "Horse." His mouth shut.

"So, my son, you wanted answers. Here they are," Dad said. "Thanks to the combination of Phoenix, your blood, and electricity, you now have abilities far beyond those of any normal human. In short, you have superpowers."

My jaw dropped. Leon's jaw dropped. I'm pretty sure Jackson's would have dropped if he wasn't scared of me saying 'horse' again. After I regained my ability to speak, I said, "I…have…superpowers?" Dad nodded. Jackson and Leon started dancing happily with one another. I glared at them and they stopped. I turned to Dad, eyes still wide. "What exactly are these powers, Dad?"

He got up and made his way to the computer, beckoning us to follow. He tapped in a series of commands and instantly a list appeared. He began to read: "Well, firstly, your physicality has reached peak human levels. Your eyesight is perfect, and you can see over a mile. Your skin has cleared up greatly…no offense. But that's only the tip of the iceberg." He cleared his throat.. "You have access to your full mental capacity. This allows you to memorize anything, be it physical or written, and remember it forever. It also provides you with a precognitive sixth sense that warns you of incoming dangers, I believe." ("Like the Spider-Sense," Jackson muttered.) "This also allows you to manipulate the heat in the air around you and body, permitting your body to launch it in projectile form from the eyes."

"You have great agility as well, which provides you with great speed and reflexes, which work in tune with your sixth sense."

"Your muscles have become incredibly dense, allowing you to lift approximately five tons, and, working with your agility, leap great distances. This increased density provides you with an invulnerability to many, if not all, substances. Your ears are extra sensitive, allowing you to hear a whole city. But perhaps most amazing of all is that, as a result of the spider blood, you are capable of launching a web-like rope substance from your wrist."

Dad turned around and saw my incredibly shocked expression. My mouth stuttered. I mean, ever since I was little I'd wanted powers (I'm a comic geek so sue me) but I never thought I'd get them. Until now. I couldn't hold it in. I jumped up and down. "THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME! ALRIGHT! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! WOOT WOOT WOOT!"

I saw all the looks they were giving me, and I don't need perfect eyesight to let me know they think I'm insane. Jackson started mocking me. "IminlovewithkatieholmesIminlovewithkatieholmesimnotgayIminlovewithkatieholmes…" I moved over to him and shoved him lightly. He fell to the ground. "Ooo…sorry about that…," I said, stifling a laugh. "Guess I don't know my own streng-" I couldn't stop myself. I laughed hard and offered him my hand. He scuffled away, looking theatrically terrified. That made me laugh harder.

Getting up, Jackson said, "So…Dr. Wyatt…you submitting this freak of nature-I mean Kyle to the Science Board for observation?" I looked at my dad, who glared at him. "Take that as a 'no' Jackson."

The room was quiet for a full minute, then everyone broke out laughing.

That night, I was in my room, on my bed, meditating, trying to levitate. What? If I have all these powers, there's a chance I can fly too, right? RIGHT?…Anyway, Dad walked and asked me what I was doing. I opened one eye and said, "Trying to levitate." "Oh", he said, looking bemused. He sat down next to me. "Listen, Kyle. Those things I said that day…I'm sorry. And I meant what I said today, about wanting to make up for it." I stopped meditating and turned to him. "I know, Dad. I didn't realize it then, but somehow I knew you were telling the truth. I thought it was just a son's intuition, but then I realized it was my hearing, picking up no erratic signs of heartbeat."

"Ah," he said, smiling. "I just want you to know that I love you, Kyle. I always will." He opened his arms, and we embraced. "I'm sorry too, Dad," I said. "Don't be. You opened my eyes. Things WILL be different now. I promise." Dad got up and started to walk out.

I nodded, then asked, "How long was I out, anyway?" Without looking back, he said, "A week."

A week? Oh boy…Seafard's gonna rip me a new...wait, I thought. Powers+Seafard…

"Uh…Dad?" I said. "Yeah, Kyle?" "Can I stay home tomorrow? I wanna master my powers. Can't have me burning down the school, can you?"

Four

The next morning, I woke up at eleven, dreaming about all the things I could (and would) do with my new powers. I got dressed into a black t-shirt and jeans and went downstairs. I walked into the kitchen, and was surprised to see Dad sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. "Morning", he said without looking up. "Morning," I replied, sitting down. "What's up?" he asked. "Nothing much." I was surprised at how normal out conversation was, all things considering. We talked for about an hour about nothing in particular, when I excused myself. When asked where I was going, I replied, "Practice."

About two minutes later, I was on top of a roof in neighboring Xavier City. Let me tell you about super-speed: It's fun. I have no idea how fast I was going, nor do I care. All I know is that I trekked about thirteen miles in a few minutes. So, that pretty much takes care of mastering my speed. I took a mental note of that: Check.

I put on a ski mask in case someone saw me, though that was incredibly unlikely. Taking a deep breath, I ran across the building and leaped. I leaped so far, and with such force, that I actually skipped over a building and landed on the one in front of it. I repeated this a few times, and, when sure I was proficient in leaping, stopped.

My thoughts from last night again took over. What if I could fly? I stood at the edge of a roof, and then leaped. I heard screams, most of them saying: "Oh my God that guy just jumped off a building!" I tried to fly, focusing on it (and all possible aspects related to it). Yeah…it didn't happen. I yelled and clenched my fists, and just as I was about to hit the ground, a web-line shot up and attached itself to the exterior of the building I just leapt off of. I pulled on it and it launched me up.

Then I fell. Again. And this time I didn't fire a web-line. This was done on purpose. I wanted to test my so-called "invulnerability". I landed on the ground, creating a huge crater and knocking everyone on their asses. I got up, waved to everybody, and sped away.

I went home, where my dad had a pseudo-obstacle course set up. I had called my Dad in advance, so he knew to set it up. In the backyard, he threw paper plates in the air for me to try to hit with my heat vision. After tens of tries, I yelled out in frustration. Waves of heat (invisible to the unaltered eye) instantly shot out of my eyes. I turned to my dad, who had his hand to his chin. "It would seem that, ah, your heat vision is triggered by anger or frustration." I stared at him. "Ya think?"

Afterwards, we went down to the basement, where my dad had an old weight-set. I set it up in a little over five minutes, and then got set. First I tried one hundred pound weights. Easy. Then two hundred. And so on and so forth until I got to five hundred, where the carrying capacity for all the weights was filled. Dad estimated I could lift twice that, if not more.

Penultimately, I worked on my sixth sense, which I dubbed my "Battle Sense". To do so, Dad threw tennis balls at me, which were easily dodged. The sense itself triggered my super-speed and reflexes, which allowed me to dodge the balls with ease. I even managed to catch a few of them.

Lastly, I worked on honing my hearing. Dad had inserted a dampener in my mind (I told you he was a medical genius) to block out all the sounds. I said, "Remove it". He asked if I was sure. I told him I was. As soon as he removed it, sounds flooded my mind. Car horns, loud obnoxious girls talking, cell phones ringing, all of it. It hurt so much I fell down. Dad yelled something, but I couldn't make it out. I looked at him and tried to read his lips. He was saying, "Concentrate on my voice." I concentrated, and a minute later everything else faded away. I sighed. Dad said, "You'll have to focus constantly so that you're hearing isn't overridden by all the other sounds." "Yeah, I know," I said.

That night, I was watching TV when the phone rang. It was Jackson. "Talk to me, Jackie Boy." After telling me to stop calling him Jackie Boy, he asked how my powers were coming along. I told him I've got everything pretty much under control. "Good," he said. I told him I was gonna use them on Monday in School. Jackson, befuddled, answered, "Kyle, next week's Holiday Break. We don't have school until a few days after New Year's." I looked at my calendar. Sure enough, it was December twentieth. Having never had a real Christmas since I was six, I usually don't pay attention to the holidays. "Of course," I said. Then an idea hit me. An ingenious idea. I smirked. "Hey Jackson. Call Leon and tell him to come with you to my place say, the twenty-seventh." No reply for a minute. "Uh…sure, Kyle. Why?" Still smirking, I said, "You'll see."

Five

The break went by fast. After reminding Dad Christmas was approaching, we got a tree (Well, I got the tree. Someone foolishly left it outside their house, all tied up. Heh…not that that's what I told Dad). For the first time in almost a decade, we had a Christmas, just the two of us, seeing as my Dad's parents are long since dead, and the ones on my mom's side stopped speaking to us years ago. Present-wise, I got Dad a new suit and tie set (with help from my friends) and he got me a sleeveless black shirt, black jeans, and an awesome black denim jacket. But my favorite was the "classic" Superman shirt.

After Christmas, my Dad got a great job at a nearby hospital (and by great I mean pays handsomely) and I plotted with Leon and Jackson. The only downside was that I never got to see Briana throughout the whole thing. "Skiing in the mountains," Leon told me.

The Monday we were due back, I overslept. I know, typical me. My dad had to come in and wake me up as he was about to leave the house. He said my snores alerted him to my current location. He was in his scrubs, and I was in my nightie…I mean nightshirt. It was an interesting contrast. I looked at my new cell phone's clock and saw it was seven-twenty. I was due in school in twenty minutes "SHIT!" I yelled. I said "Bye" to Dad then speed showered, washed, changed into the uniform, and grabbed money for lunch before dashing out of the house to go to school.

I arrived at seven twenty-eight, exactly. Not my personal best time, but not bad. I smoothed out the rumples in my outfit and walked into the building. No one gave me a second glance as I walked in. Perfect. No suspicions. I went to my locker, got my books, shoved them in my backpack, and went to visit my friends.

I went to the usual spot and saw Leon and Jackson, but no Briana. I stormed up to them, about to ask where she was, when I heard a very distinct giggle behind me. I smirked. "Briana," I said. I turned around and saw her wearing a shocked expression on her face. "How'd you know it was me?" she asked, incredulous. I thought for a moment about revealing everything to her, but something stopped me. "Uh…Kyle?" she said, breaking into my thoughts (ie. Slapping my head). "Earth to Cyber-Carrot, anyone there?" "Uh…yeah ," I stuttered. "Just thinking." "About what?"

It's amazing. Even with amazing powers I act the same around her. I thought for a minute. "About how you're gonna kill Jackson and Leon for telling me that you were gonna sneak up on me." The two looked shocked at each other, then ran away. Briana and I laughed for a while, then she turned to me.

"So are you alright? Your dad called me when you were waking up from your coma, but I was already at my tournament. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I assured her. "I'm fine. Really," I insisted in response to her skeptical look. "The only bad thing about it is that I didn't get to see you for almost a month."

She blushed, and I think I heard her heart race. I was about to ask out when the bell rang. We parted ways, and I made my way to art.

I found Jackson in front of the classroom, glaring angrily at me. I laughed. "What?" I asked completely innocently. He just continued to glare. "So, you know the plan?" I asked, which is funny, because he does absolutely nothing whatsoever in it. He responded as much. "Good man," I said, patting him on the back. When the late bell rang, I dashed to the little boy's room and pulled from my backpack jeans, sneakers, a ski mask, and the classic Superman shirt I got for Christmas. I grinned as I put the articles of clothing on.

When I was finished changing, I webbed the backpack to the ceiling and ran back to the art room, where I heard Seafard bitching about me not being in class. Again. I didn't need super-hearing to do so: She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Which, you know, is pretty loud and raspy, as she's a chain smoking crack whore. I ran into the room and leaped firing a webline as I did. No one saw me, I'm sure, except Jackson, and he was looking out for me. I saw his eyes track me, so I put a finger to my lips in the "shh" position. He nodded, but Seafard caught him.

"What are you looking at, you snot-nosed fart-brain?" That was my cue. I descended on my webline. "Snot-nosed fart brain? That's the best you've got, you old hag?" I said in a deeper, more cockier voice of my original. She turned around, ready to yell at whoever said that, but instead wheezed when she saw that I said that. Or, it could be that I was hanging from the ceiling in a web yo-yo. Either/or.

"Let's see what you have in your pocket, shall we?" I fired a web line and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I wagged my finger at her. "Smoking kills," I said with mock severity. "I'm gonna have to give you detention for that." With that, in one fluid motion, I ripped off her hair (which, I neglected to mention before, was Marge Simpson like), revealing it was a wig. The whole class burst out laughing. She stood there for a minute, then, bawling, ran out of the room.

There was an awkward silence for a minute, which I broke by saying, "Ummm…Drugs are bad, mmkay?" I let go of the webline and sped away.

Six

According to various reports from certain teachers, "the mysterious masked man" plagued several classes all over the school. The fact that all the classes were taught by hated teachers didn't have any impact at all on any of the classes I chose. Nope. Not at all.

As the bell for first periods end rang, I was already outside the art room, back in my uniform, waiting for a certain horse-phobic friend to come out. When he did, he immediately confronted me. "DUDE!" he yelled with no subtlety at all, causing all attention in the hall to divert to him. I glared at him, and his voice became a whisper when I everyone went back to their tasks. "You were awesome!" he whispered. I smirked (which I do a lot, I know). "I know," I said

I parted ways with Jackson and made my way towards History. Outside the room, Leon was waiting, arms folded. I was expecting him to start reprimanding me. As the voice of conscience in the group, he opposed the plan, saying it was too "evil". I "accidentally" singed him with my heat vision, which shut him up immediately. He hasn't forgiven me for that. He was also part of one of the classes I attacked, so he knew what I did.

I approached him, waiting for the inevitable verbal beat-up. It never came. He was given a high-five instead. Leon used many adjectives to describe my exploits: "Amazing" "Awesome". "Spectacular" were a few. "I particularly enjoyed your use of chalk, " he enthused. "What can I say?" I said. "I was inspired."

We walked in and I took my seat, right in front of Briana. "Psst," she whispered in my ear. I leaned my head back. "Was your class visited by some guy wearing a Superman shirt?" Suppressing a smile, I said, "Yeah! It was awesome! He ripped off our teachers wig and made her leave! Which is, you know, good, seeing as she was a total bitch. How about you?"

She laughed and said, "Yeah. The guy came down on some sorta web and embarrassed our teacher, too, causing him to leave. After that, he gave us some huge-ass lecture on why Batman Begins was the best Batman movie ever. It was weird as hell. But funny, too."

I leaned back up, grinning.

Mr. Franks, the "cool teacher" walked in and started teaching us about the Spartan warriors. "In my opinion," he said, "the greatest warriors who have ever lived." He started to explain the Battle of Thermolypae. I sat, fascinated.

At lunch that day, the four of us were discussing nothing in particular, when Geoff Wyners (pronounced "wieners"), the friendless school wigger, walked up to our table and squeezed in between me and Briana. My Battle Sense didn't warn me, so I couldn't prepare myself. I felt my eyes flash red (as they do when I get angry; it's part of my heat vision/anger connection), causing, Leon and Jackson to look at me and each other with great anger.

"Yo-yo baby," Wyners said, talking to Briana and putting his arm around her, "how's about youse and me go out sometime?" Did I mention Wyners was a Junior, and thus this was totally perverted?

"Yeah, uh, no thanks Geoff," she said. "Come on, Bree-Bree" (This caused my eyes to flash red with even more intensity), "I know how to show girls a good time."

"Um, if you mean by "girls" you mean your Barbie dolls, than yeah, I can believe you," I piped in. "Because, you know, you've never met a girl who can stand you." Leon, Jackson, and Briana laughed, but Wyners turned and glared at me. My Battle Sense raged, and my super speed kicked in, but I didn't want to reveal my spectacular abilities, so I let the punch hit me in the chest. For added effect, I threw myself to the ground. It didn't hurt, even tickle, but I had to act like it did.

"ARRGGH!" I cried, rolling around on the ground in fake agony. I looked up and saw Leon and Jackson smirking at each other, but Briana looking truly upset. I wish I didn't have to put her through that, but what she did next made it worth it.

Using her super karate moves, she threw Wyners off the table. A second later he rose, enraged, and started assaulting Briana with a barrage of poorly executed punches. She blocked them all. Having had enough, Wyners unsheathed a knife and lunged at Briana.

By this time, a crowd had drawn around us, and they all gasped when he took out the knife.

My rage triggered my heat vision, and I aimed it all at his knife. It became white hot, and he dropped it. Using his confusion against him, Briana proceeded to knock Wyners out with a well-placed kick to the nads.

The whole cafeteria cheered.

Seven

Seasons changed and time passed by. Seafard took advantage of early retirement and Geoff got kicked out of school and sent to juvey. Everything else remained relatively normal. I kept the outfit I used that day just in case.

On the last day of school, during last period, I was talking to my friends about vacation plans. We were all doing absolutely nothing this summer. What broke this peace was the fire alarm. It shrilled, and Mrs. Maguire, our teacher, hurried us outside. Hearing the crackle of the flames, I could determine that this wasn't a drill. This was the real thing.

Outside, we were all talking about what caused the fire. I looked somewhat guiltily at the flames. I thought that there was something I could do. Reading my mind, Leon pulled me aside. "I know what you're thinking. Don't. You can't do anything. Everyone's been evacuated, so there's no one to save. Just sit tight, dude." He patted my shoulder, and I nodded, when I heard a couple talking to a cop. The mom was tearfully saying, "My baby girl's in there! I need to go get her, please!" The cop refused. I used my hearing to see if I heard any screams. Sure enough, there was one. Coming from the boiler room, of all places.

Without second thought, I ran faster than I ever did into a nearby alley and ripped open my shirt, revealing the 'S' of my Superman shirt. I changed into the rest of the outfit, threw on the ski mask, and swung into the building. Shocked cries rang out, all wondering who that was, all coming from parents. The students knew who I was. And they cheered.

Inside, I immediately dashed into the boiler room. Flames surrounded me. The heat merely tickled. In front of me was the little girl, likely from the neighboring elementary school, being held hostage by…

"Geoff Wyners," I whispered, surprised. "Oh look," he sneered to no one in particular. "The Superman wanna-be comes to save the day." He, clearly, was nuts. I told him as much. He frowned at me in response. "The shrinks at Shryker's don't think so, apparently. How else would I be here, released early for good behavior?"

"What are you doing?" I asked. Wyner's eyes flashed with anger. "Getting revenge on the whore who put me here. And everyone else, for not accepting me."

Okay, I don't care what the shrinks said. He's nuts. "Just give me the girl and come with me. I can get you help." He was the last person I expected myself to say that to, but the fates play odd with their playthings, I guess.

In response, he pulled out a pistol (his dad's, he said) and started loading a clip into me. The bullets bounce off me with ease. I let him empty the clip at me, or so I thought. He aimed the pistol at the girls' head.

"I've got one shot left here, masked man, and it's going straight through this kids skull." Shocked, I sped towards him and grabbed the gun from him with ease. I used it to knock him unconscious, then threw it on the floor. I took the little girl by the hand, saying "It's okay, kid. You're safe now." She smiled at me.

I hefted Wyners over my shoulder and began to run out. I could tell that the building was collapsing. I could hear its infrastructure breaking. I doubled my speed as I webbed the two bodies to my own.

I saw window at the end of the hall. My last chance. Against my bodies will, I ran again, and leaped out of the window just in time.

Almost.

The explosion knocked me back with great force. I flew over the crowd, out of control, until somehow I was able to stop myself in min-air long enough for me attach a webline to a nearby tree branch. Using it, I landed safely, with all passengers intact. I quickly found the girl's parents and gave her to them. She hugged me good-bye. I was taken aback, but I returned it. She looked up at me and asked, "Why didn't you leave the bad man in the school?" I smiled sadly at her and said, "Heroes don't kill." Her parents thanked me, and I smartly saluted in exchange. I started to walk away, but the principal, Mr. Griff (or, as I call him, Rolly-Polly-Olly) wobbled over to me. "Stop!" he yelled when he approached me, spitting all over my sexy ski mask. He turned to the cop. "I demand this…abomination against society be arrested at once!"

The cop looked at me, confused. I shrugged. "On what charges?" the cop asked. Rolly started rambling various crimes out of his fat mouth, none of which applied to me. The cop shook his head. "Um…sir, I don't know if you realized it, but this "abomination" just saved a little girl from a burning building. He's okay in my book. What'd you do, eat a sandwich? Or a deli, in your case?"

I laughed. I liked this guy. Rolly turned from the officer to me, many times. Too many, in my opinion. "Who are you?" he asked me. I waved him closer to me. I said into his ear, "I'm Batman".

This time the cop laughed. Rolly turned to us, red-faced. "I am leaving. Good day sirs!"

I flipped him off as he rolled away, and then turned back to the cop. "So…who are you?" "Sergeant Gary Russell, at your service. And you are?" I paused for a minute. "I'll let you know. See you around, Sarge," I said, speeding away.

Minutes later, I rejoined my friends, back in my regular garb. "What'd I miss?" I asked. They all turned to face me. Leon and Jackson shot me knowing looks. Briana stared at me with an expression I couldn't read. "Just that masked guy swinging into a building, and minutes later coming out with a little girl and Geoff Wyners, of all people, attached to him." "Huh, go figure," I replied. "And where were you anyway, Kyle?" she demanded of me.

Again, I toyed with the notion of telling her, but again, I avoided it. "…The bathroom, where else?" was all I could get out. Briana, quite possibly the love of my life, squinted her eyes at me and stalked away.

Once more, Leon brought me aside. "Don't you realize what you're doing, dumbass? You're pushing her away from you. These…powers…have made you into a cocky asshole. I've been noticing this for months. So has she."

"How would you know?" I said, my tone carefully controlled, but my eyes revealing my anger. "She told me. She really likes you, Kyle. But you push her away everyday," he said, walking away.

"Ah, don't worry about him," Jackson interjected, apparently eavesdropping. "He doesn't know what it's like, having great power and all." "And you do, Jackie Boy?" I hissed. Jackson moved back, as if I pushed him. "N-no, Kyle. It's just…you didn't realize, did you?" "Realize what?" I snapped. "Your face when you came back to us. You were a man exhilarated. It was…it was like you enjoyed being a hero."

I looked at him, this time a sad smile painted on my face. "You might be right," I said, walking away, feeling more confused than ever.

Eight

After all the commotion at the school (which now sits as a pile of brick and ash) was done, I went straight to my room and started thinking. Upon hindsight, I realized Leon was right. Over the past few months I realized that Briana was somewhat distancing herself from me, and now I knew why. I sat reflecting on that for a while until Dad, downstairs, said "Hey, Kyle, want some pizza for dinner tonight?" I didn't respond, so that must have concerned him, as he walked in a minute later.

"Kyle? What's wrong, bud?" he asked. After debating with myself for a minute, I told him everything, from the fire to what Leon told me. "Well, I already knew about what you did at the school." The bewilderment on my face must have been evident, as he chuckled, "Kyle, your exploits were on the news. Did you really think a super-powered teenager saving a little girl would have escaped notice? You did well today, and I'm proud of you for that. My son, a hero. Who would have thought?"

I shook my head. "That's not the problem, though, Dad. It's not that I played hero, it's that I enjoyed it. Add that to what Leon told me about being Super-Ass, and I'm more confused than a teenaged Michael Jackson. Okay, maybe not that confused." Dad laughed, than replied, "You know, these two "problems" aren't mutually exclusive." I looked at him, a look of skepticism on his face. "What'choo talkin' 'bout, Pops?"

He started at me. "One, never say that to me again. Two: if you can 'meld' the two personalities together, the hero and the asshole, then I think your problem is solved."

It took me a minute to determine what he meant, then I looked up at him in shock. "Dad…" I began. "Are you telling me to become a hero?" "Of course not, Kyle. That would be irresponsible. I am not saying 'Kyle Wyatt' should become a superhero. But, if someone with the exact powers and abilities as you appeared out of nowhere and started helping people, that would be just fine."

Dad smiled, patted me on the back, and walked to the door. After determining what he just said, I called, "But Dad! How do I make that work?" His only reply? "You'll think of something!"

I laid down on my bed, sighing, when an idea hit me. I got up and got the new cell phone I got for a years end present, and dialed the numbers of Leon and Jackson

A month later, the three of us met up again. I had talked to them and told them my plan. It made them all freakishly excited. I had called Jackson and had him sketch various costume designs for me to use when I had to. When he was done, they came to my house and we started mulling over the designs. A vast majority of them were not unlike Spider-Man's tights. I looked up at him. "Yeah…you're not obsessed at all. Don't you have anything else? I mean, these are great drawings and all, but there is no way you're getting me in tights. They make my ass look big."

Leon laughed at that, and we looked at each other. We had talked about what he'd said on the last day of school, and I'd apologized and told him the plan. Besides being freakishly excited, he also thought it was a good, interesting way to keep the two personas separate.

"So," Leon said. "What's your name gonna be? Every superhero has got to have a super name. How about Super-Ginger? Ginger-Man? Spiderginger? Or this: Superspidergingerman?"

It took me a minute to realize he was joking. When I did realize it, and punched him lightly on the arm. He fell to the ground. "Whoops," I said. "My bad." I offered him my hand, which he accepted. I turned back to Jackson. "But seriously, don't you have any other designs?" Jackson rolled his eyes angrily and took out a final one.

It was a drawing of me. It was AWESOME! On my head were sunglasses and a facemask that covered half my face (nose down). For the torso, there was a similar shirt to the one I wore during the last day at school, except the 'S' was raised. Covering this shirt was a blue denim jacket, with three red slash marks on each forearm. On the back of the jacket was a large, angular red spider. And, finally, on my legs were blue jeans, and on my feet were boots.

I looked up, grinning ear to ear. "You know, Jackie Boy…I think I can work with this."

Nine

The summer passed by way too fast. The plan was not yet implemented, as there was no need for it to be. And just like that, school was upon us again. Since the school here in Edmont burned down, we got relocated to this brand-spanking new school in Xavier City. That morning, I got up a half-hour early, washed up, got dressed, and then thought about what I was going to say to Briana. I hadn't seen her all summer, and I needed to apologize to her for everything that happened last school year, but I didn't know how. Then, it hit me: Just say sorry. It was brilliant!

When enough time had passed, I dashed off to school. I met up with my three friends at the Usual Spot. Some things never change. Leon and Jackson, noting my approach, walked away, knowing what I was going to do. "Um…hi, Briana." She turned and faced me, her face lighting up for a second then darkening. "Oh. Hi, Kyle," she said coldly. Great for me. "Um…listen, Briana. I'm…sorry for what I did last year. I just…had a lot of stuff going on, but that doesn't excuse what I did. You didn't deserve any of that, so I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but…I just wanted you to know." I turned and went to walk to my first period class (I think it was Math. Ugh.).

"Kyle, wait!" she called after me. I stopped and turned around. Her face was a mixture of emotions that I couldn't read, but her heart was racing. She caught up with me and smiled. "Thanks. For the apology, I mean. It…means a lot." I smiled and drew her into a hug. She returned it. I heard Jackson go, "Awww," and saw him and Jackson at the end of the hall. I flipped them off.

The day went on without incident. All my new teachers were awesome, which, I am saddened to say, meant no more fun with my powers. Ah well.

At the end of the day, I looked to meet up with my friends outside the school. They looked at me when I approached, and Briana smiled (god what a nice smile) when I was close enough to see. "Kyle! Get your ass over here!" she called. I made my way through the crowd, purposely "accidentally" bumping into people as I went. I muttered my apologies as I walked past, and finally joined them.

"So," I asked. "How were all you ladies days?" "Quite good," Leon answered. "Wait…" We laughed, and when we were done, Briana took me by the arm and led me away from everyone else. "Uh, Kyle? You wanna get outta here and grab a bite to eat?" "As long as I'm not the one you're biting," I laughed. "Sure." She grinned and we started to walk towards Mac's Burgers when Police Cars and Helicopters whizzed and raced by, the formers sirens blazing. I froze in my tracks. After a minute, Briana, realized I wasn't walking with her, and she ran back to me.

"Kyle, what's wrong?" she asked me, not unkindly. I wasn't paying attention; I was listening on the Police e-band. Apparently, a family was being held hostage at Fortress National Bank. "Kyle…" she prodded, snapping me out of my trance. I looked at her, hoping I looked how I felt. "I'm sorry, Briana. I just remembered, I have to get home. I just remembered I have…a doctors appointment." "Oh," she said, looking slightly hurt. "Alright then. See you tomorrow."

She turned around, and I watched her leave. "Yeah…" I whispered. When she was gone, I ran back to Jackson and Leon. "What's up?" Leon wondered out loud. "Hero time," I answered, handing him my backpack. Hold this for me, would you?" Without waiting for an answer, I shoved it into his hands and dashed off.

Looking for and finding an abandoned alley, I ran down it and ripped open my shirt, revealing a raised silver-on-black 'S' atop a black sleeveless shirt. An instant later, and my uniform was gone, replaced by a black denim jacket with an angular silver spider on the back, black, jeans, and combat boots. I pulled sunglasses out of my pocket and put them on, then pulled out a facemask that covered my lower mouth and put that on. Kyle Wyatt had vanished. In his place was I, Spartan.

I swung to the bank as fast as I was able, which is pretty damn fast. Using my hearing, I honed in on the sirens and followed them to the bank. Listening to the e-band, it was apparent that the hostage holders wanted one hundred billion U.S. American Dollars in unmarked bills. Every hour that the money was not delivered, a hostage would die. The first hour was drawing to a close, but no one would die. Not on my watch. I hastened my swing.

Five minutes before the end of the hour, I finally made it to the bank (I got lost, so sue me). I swung through the window, to the shock and wonder of the citizens watching from outside. I broke the window and let go of my web, landing in front of the thieves, glass shattering around me. "Boo," I said, while in a very kick-ass pose.

The thieves were your standard garden-variety sort. As in, not too fast, strong, or smart. How they masterminded something like this is beyond me. I quickly counted. Eleven of them. Perfect. That being said, I attacked. First one's always easy. The shock of seeing a costumed teenager swing through a window on a web will do that to you. I dealt with that one with ease, elbowing him on the head and throwing him against a wall.

After that, it was open war. Bullets from machine guns and semi-automatics filled the air. My Battle Sense could have let me avoid them with ease, but the criminals needed to learn something today: There's a hero in town.

I let the bullets bounce off me as I cut a swath through the thugs. I shot a webline at two thugs and pulled in opposite directions, causing them to hit each other and fall unconscious. Another tried to get from behind with a steel pipe that he found somewhere. I back flipped over him and kicked him in the spine with both of my feet, knocking him down. Uncoordinated bastard…

Now, you may be wondering: "If he's such a wiseass in his head, why doesn't he say some of his ingenious, witty lines?" Truth is, when I fight, I'm in it one hundred percent. I focus all my being into it. But that still doesn't stop me from making the quips in my head.

Anyway, back to the battle. There were about eight of them left. Getting irritated at the bullets ricocheting off of me, I fired multiple webs to each of the remaining thugs guns and yanked. They looked incredulously from me, to their hands, to the pieces of metal on the floor, which soon became melted metal thanks to a nice healthy dose of heat vision.

After a minute of dumbfounded looks at one another, the thugs went after me hand-to-hand. One by one. Stupidheads. I leaped over the first attacker, launched a web onto him, and swung him at his companions. That distracted them long enough for me to pick them off, one by one.

It was too easy. In a minute, they were all down, unconscious on the floor. I stood for a moment, savoring my victory. They thought they could beat me? I thought. Me? Don't they know who I am? I'm-

A gunshot interrupted my thoughts, followed by a searing pain in my left arm. I looked at it and saw blood-my blood-drip to the floor. Which made no sense. I was supposed to be INVINCIBLE, dammit! And my Battle Sense gave me no warning, which made this turn of events even more mysterious.

I turned around and saw a female thug behind me, the barrel of the gun smoking, her face smirking. She must have been in the bathroom when I was beating up her friends. When she shot me I was about ten feet away from her. Now I was right in front of her, smirking under my mask right back at her. Of course, she couldn't see it, but that's beside the point. IN speed-mode, I grabbed the gun out of her hand threw it in the air, and before it landed, knocked her out.

I wrapped my arm in a web bandage to stop the bleeding. Man that hurt like a bitch. I rounded up all the unconscious bodies, whistling while I did so, and webbed them together. I moved onto the family, who I just noticed was tied up in the corner. I dashed over to them. "Are you all right?" I asked. They all nodded, wide-eyed. I ripped the ropes off them with ease. The family was standard: two parents, male and female, a son, and a daughter. I helped the kids up, and then the parents (kids come first). The girl hugged me, and the boy pointed at my wound. "You okay?" I nodded. "Merely a flesh wound," I said. I rustled the kids' hair and told the family to go. "Thank you," the dad said, shaking my hand. I nodded again. "Take care of yourselves," I said. They ran out.

I walked back to the thugs. Their leader was waking up, and struggling against the webs. "Don't bother," I said. "Those webs are about as strong as steel so you don't have a chance in hell of breaking free." The leader glared at me, and it was more fear than hatred or anger. I turned to walk away when the leader called after me. "Who are you?"

I turned back to him. "I'm Spartan. Tell your friends. They'll meet me soon enough." I jumped and fired a webline, swinging home with the cheers of the public fading in the distance.

Bullet wound aside, it was a good first day.

Ten

At home later that day, my head was hooked up to some insanely complicated machine in the lab. I was still dressed as Spartan, except my glasses and mask were off. Dad was staring at the computer screen, working on why my invincibility and Battle Sense shut off like they did. Leon and Jackson were watching the TV (that I moved down there), observing my exploits. They cheered and gasped in all the appropriate sections. I smirked and turned away, and looked in the mirror opposite me. This was the first time I could actually see myself in costume.

The costume itself pretty much mirrored Jackson's original design, except it was black where it was once blue, and the silver replaced the red. The 'S' itself was different, as it was silver on black. The costume was made up of some nano-fiber technology that Dad recovered at work (that's one weird medical clinic, I know). It was linked directly into my brain, allowing it to change from my school uniform into Spartan in a few seconds easy. Cliché, yes, but it beats having to wear a backpack everywhere with my real clothes in it. Of course, if Spartan's needed and I'm not in uniform…well, I'll work on that some other time.

"Whoa!" Leon yelled. I looked at the T.V. It was showing me beating the crap out of all the thugs in super-speed. You couldn't even see me. One minute they were standing, the next…they weren't. "Damn, I'm fast," I said. I continued to watch the T.V., up until I got shot. I looked away and saw Dad staring at the screen, deep in thought.

"What's up Dad?" I asked. "Kyle," he began, "Can you describe to me what you were thinking before you were shot?" I thought for a minute. "Well, I was thinking how those puny humans thought they could defeat Hulk in the 2003 Ang Lee picture, then I was thinking about how those thieves thought they could defeat me. I am, after all, invincible. Or at least I was."

"Huh," he responded. He looked directly at me. "You know how some of your powers are connected to your emotions, like your heat vision and strength are connected to anger?" I nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "Well," he said, going back to his screen. "It would appear that your invincibility and Battle Sense, and to a small degree your super-hearing and reflexes, are too tied to your emotions, except instead of being aided by them, they are hindered. Whenever you get too arrogant or cocky, your powers related to such feelings are "shut down" until you stop acting that way."

Sighing and changing back into my uniform, I said, "That sucks."

Eleven

The day that came after yesterday, everyone in school was talking about Spartan, even the teachers. During the classes where everyone was talking about it, I eavesdropped on Briana's class, to hear what she thought. Unfortunately, she never piped in.

At lunch that day, the four of us were talking about Spartan. I asked Briana what she thought about him. She responded very enthusiastically. "He's so cool! I mean, we've never had a superhero EVER and when he showed and kicked those guys asses…wow!"

She laughed and I smirked. I guess I am awesome. "You think we'll see him ever again?" she asked. "Oh yeah," I said. "I think we'll be seeing a lot more of him in the coming weeks…"

And it was so. For a whole month Spartan appeared, saving people from fires, muggings, all that stuff. And let me tell you: It was fun. Jackson was definitely right. I do enjoy being a hero.

After school one day near the end of February, I was walking home when I thought I heard footsteps following me. I turned around, but no one was present. Confused, I walked on until a scream, followed by a silent alarm screeched in my ears. Trying to focus (which was hard), I determined it was coming from the deli across the street. That scream sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. I heard a semi-automatic pistol cocked, and only one thought raced through my mind: Hero Time.

I dashed across the street, changing as I went. When I burst through the door in speed mode, I saw a bullet headed for some knocked out girl. Acting on instinct, I ran in front of her and took the bullet for her. It bounced off me with ease. I looked at the girl's face.

"Briana," I whispered. I listened for her heartbeat. It was there, so she'd be fine. If I was able to deal with these guys. Which, you know, I am. Growling, I turned to the guy who shot at her and blasted heat vision at the gun, which led him to drop it. In a follow-up move, I ran up to the thug, snapped his arm, then head butted him, knocking him unconscious.

I felt more bullets bounce off my back. I turned and found two more thugs shooting at me. I webbed one of them, slammed him into his friend, then webbed the group together, upside down. I walked over to the clerk and asked her what happened. She looked to be maybe a little older than me, seventeen at the oldest. She was shaking. "It's alright," I said as comforting as I was able. "You're safe now." Tears in her eyes, she nodded and told me everything: Apparently Briana had walked in after school to buy a Coke, when the thieves walked in. She valiantly tried to stop them, even managing to get a few hits in. But skill is no match for size and the ability to end fights quickly, unfortunately. She was knocked out, and the leader tried to kill her, when I showed up.

I thanked the clerk and made my way back to Briana. Sure enough, there was a coke bottle right next to her. I picked Briana up and held her like one would hold a baby, then picked up her Coke and walked over to the clerk. "It's on me," I said. The clerk shook her head. "N-no, Spartan" she stammered. "It's the least I can do, for your help here t-today." I nodded, then put the 1.25 for the soda on the counter.

Outside, the cops had shown up, led by a familiar face. "Sergeant Russell," I called. He turned around at me and looked puzzled. "You don't remember me?" I said, feigning sadness. "Well," Russell said. "I know you're Spartan, but I don't think we've ever had the pleasure of…"

I rolled my eyes. "Good god man, how many people do you know who can swing on webs?" He continued to look puzzled, then a look of comprehension dawned on his face. "It's you…you're the one who saved that little girl from that fire…" I nodded curtly. "The one and only. Listen, there are three guys hanging from the ceiling in there. They tried to rob the place, but I kicked their asses."

Sarge (my name for him) laughed. "Direct, aren't you? Well, thanks for your help today." He finally noticed that I was holding Briana. "Who's she?" he asked. "A girl who tried to help out. I'm gonna take her home. She's earned it. Oh, and when you're asking the clerk, be gentle. She's pretty shaken up." Without waiting for an answer, I jumped up in the air and swung away.

A few minutes later, I arrived at Briana's house. Seeing as her parents were at work, it would be no problem getting her in. She had a balcony with a sliding glass door outside her room, so I landed on that. God, I hoped it was unlocked…

It was. She's a very trusting soul, that one. I opened the door gently and walked in. I laid Briana on her bed then went to leave, then stopped. I took off my mask and glasses and looked at her. Should I tell her? I wondered. I went to her and changed my costume back to the uniform. I started to say her name, then realized the 'S' was still visible, which brought me back to reality. I smiled sadly, then put the mask and glasses on and changed back to Spartan. I looked at her one last time, then swung away. I think I felt a single tear brush down my cheek.

Twelve

I sat crouched upon the spire of Xavier City's tallest building, trying to get my mind off Briana by going to work. I listened for sounds of any disturbance, any at all, just so I wouldn't have to think about her.

After an hour or so of this, I got one. Bullets firing at each other. I didn't know what it was, nor did I care. It just gave me something to do. I leaped off the building, fired a webline, and swung towards the crime.

I arrived at a gang war. Great. I landed in between the two groups. "It's Spartan!" one of them yelled. No, really? It appeared that my sudden entrance caused them to forget about their petty war, because they all attacked me at once. My Battle Sense triggered and I leaped up in the air as the swarmed over me. I launched a web onto a nearby lamppost, swung around it, crouched upon it and watched them beat each other up for a minute before joining in again.

I leaped in, taking one down with an uppercut. My Battle Sense warned me that two more gang members were running up behind me. I elbowed them both in the face. After that, the survivors got smart and took out their guns. Wait, did I say smart? I meant stupid. They started unloading entire clips into me, which bounced off and hit nearby buildings. Luckily, there were no civilians in the vicinity. Getting bored of this, as there was no challenge, I entered speed mode and quickly disposed of the rest of them, then webbed them off a lamppost.

I rubbed my head. This stuff was too easy. I was thinking about what to do next when slow applause broke through the air. I turned and saw a tall, thin, bald man in a finely tailored suit emerge from the shadows. "You've been difficult to get a hold of, Spartan. Following you fails, as you move so…quickly…through the crowd. I had to instigate this whole gang war just to grab your attention." I raised my eyebrows, asking, "You started this?" The man nodded, smiling humorlessly. "Who do you think you are?" I demanded of him.

"Ah, how rude of me. Niles Ferris, at your service. I am consigliore to one Dean Murdoch." This shocked me. Dean Murdoch was a well-known and respected techno-entrepreneur. It was rumored that he laid the blueprints out for the nano-technology that made up my costume. "The Dean Murdoch?" I asked. 'The head of Wyntech?" Niles smirked maliciously at me. "So much more than that, Spartan. He sent to me to retrieve you for a meeting."

I turned to walk away. Someone who sent his minions to start gang wars was not worthy of my attention. "Thanks, but no thanks." I started to leap, but what Niles Ferris aid next stopped me in my tracks. "I urge you to reconsider, Kyle Wyatt." I stopped and turned around, rigid. Niles Ferris was smiling. God, I wanted to knock his head off.

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Murdoch's office, dressed in my uniform (at the "behest" of Niles). I looked at my watch Six Twenty-One. Damn, Dad was gonna kill me. I took a deep breath, and then knocked on the door. "Enter," a deep voice said. I opened the door, and walked into Murdoch's office.

Dean Murdoch sat behind a huge brown desk, which had various technological objects on it. I had no idea what they were. Murdoch himself had slicked back brown hair, was well built, and would not have looked out of place at a funeral, seeing as his suit mirrored funeral garb. He stood up and smiled not unkindly at me. "Ah, Mr. Wyatt. Come, have a seat." IN an instant, a chair popped out of the floor. "I'd rather stand," I replied. Murdoch inclined his head. "As is your prerogative. It matters not. All that matters is that you and I have a talk."

I went right to business. "How do you know who I am?" Murdoch smiled. "You really should learn to clean up your blood, Mr. Wyatt. It can be very…incriminating." My blood…? Wait. The blood that fell when I was shot, so long ago. But how did he get it? Businessmen have no business at crime scenes.

"Your confusion is evident, Mr. Wyatt. Allow me to explain. I am indeed head of this company. That is true. But that is only my public face. Who I really am, is something much more."

"Oh great," I said. "If you turn out to be the devil incarnate or some shit like that, I'm outta here." Again, he laughs. And now I realize: It's not a nice laugh.

"I am a member of Adventus, a secret society who wishes to-" "Let me guess," I cut in. "Rule the world." He laughs again. This guy's really messed up, I realize. "No, Mr. Wyatt. We wish not to rule the world, but manipulate it to our liking. We would choose the President of this country. We would choose who goes to war and when. Everything would be under our control. EVRYTHING!"

He screamed that last part right in my face. I didn't even flinch. "Well," I said. "Good luck with that. But that isn't why you called me here, is it, you Loony McLoon-Loon, you?"

For the first time, anger flashed across Murdoch's face. It warped his handsome features into something that looked pure evil. "Loon, you call me? Fair enough. And you wonder what role you'll play in this little game of mine? I'll humor you. You will join Adventus, and remove those who stand in the way. You will be my key into the Adventus Elite, and thus, the key to the future."

Yep. This guy was definitely a wacko. I'm not entirely sure Adventus even existed. Something to check out when I was done here. "If you think I'm going to help you, and I quote, "remove those who stand in the way", you're way off. I'm a hero, man. And heroes don't kill, no matter what."

I went to the door, which should have signaled the end of the "meeting", but no, he had to do what he did next.

"Well, you have a right to your decision," he said sadly, going back into his sophisticated businessman routine. "But I beg you change your mind. Otherwise, the consequences for your loved ones will be…"

Murdoch left the last word hanging in the air, but I knew what he meant. I lunged at him and grabbed his throat. "You stay a way from my friends and family, or I'll kill you!" I hissed. Murdoch merely laughed. "Hypocrite," he said. "Didn't you just say that heroes don't kill?"

For once, he was right. I let go of him and stared at him, disgusted. "You stay away from my loved ones, or I may just try not being a hero for once." I went towards the door as he laughed again, spitting up blood. "You still don't get it, do you? There are Adventi everywhere. In the schools, police departments." He gestured to himself. "Companies. We're everywhere, Spartan. You will NEVER be safe."

I turned to face him one last time, his eyes glowing red. "For your sake, you better hope you're wrong."

Thirteen

I waited in the shadows of the office of Sergeant Russell, and waited for him to show up. He finally did…two hours later. I think I almost fell asleep. "Took you long enough, Sarge."

He jumped, and looked for me. "Spartan?" "The one and only," I said, emerging from the dark. "How'd you know where my office was?" he asked. Under the mask, I smirked. "It's the door that says, SERGEANT GARY RUSSEL on it in pretty letters. Kinda hard to miss."

He chuckled. "How can I help you today?" I stopped smirking. "I need you to go through any and all case files that could remotely be connected to an organization called 'Adventus'." He looked taken aback. "May I ask why?" he asked. "…No," I said. "Not now, anyway."

With that, I leaped out the window of the office and swung away, leaving a puzzled Sarge to (hopefully) do that small thing for me.

I never told anyone about my "meeting" with Murdoch. Not even Dad. I didn't want to worry them.

Months passed again, until it was now May. I had changed from small-time vigilante to genuine superhero. Instead of stopping a carjacker, I was stopping a helicopter…jacker.

After school one Thursday, it was me and Briana walking home together. We talked about school and random shit, and I was sad to see us part ways. She was halfway across the street when I called her name. "Hey, Briana!" I yelled. She turned around and smiled at me. "Yeah, Kyle?' I was about to ask her out, when all of a sudden a car sped out of nowhere and hit her.

I stood there, frozen. "This…this can't be real." I dashed to her and grabbed her limp body. I listened for a pulse, a breath, anything to tell me she was still alive. Nothing. Briana Walker, the love of my life, was dead.

My breath came out in short, erratic bursts. I wanted to cry, but couldn't. The tears would not come. I ran to the driver's door and ripped it open. In the drivers' seat was…

"Spartan," I said. Spartan nodded, staring at me emotionlessly from behind his sunglasses. My sunglasses. "What the-" I began, but stopped when Spartan got out. He reached for me and…

I woke up in a cold sweat and looked at the clock. 11:30 p.m. It was just a dream. No…a nightmare. Of course it was. Today had been a Friday, and a particularly exhausting one at that, which is why I fell asleep so early. I tried to go back to sleep, but failed. Giving up, I went to my window and jumped out. When I landed, I was Spartan.

I dashed to Briana's house. I had to make sure it was just a nightmare. I needed to.

When I arrived, I looked for a sturdy branch that let me see her inside Briana's room. Finding one, I leaped up onto and instantly balanced myself on it. If I was a stalker, that would be perfect for me. But I'm not.

There she was, practicing her Karate, looking very determined and focused. I think she was listening to Green Day, but I wasn't paying attention. She was safe, and that is all that mattered.

I sighed, leaped off the branch, and ran away, not giving the dream a second thought.

Fourteen

At lunch the following Monday, we were, as usual, talking about nothing in particular. Halfway through the period, Briana brought up her Karate Demonstration here at the school after classes. "It'd mean a lot to me if you guys came," she said. "I'm there," I said immediately. She smiled in response as Leon and Jackson snickered. I glared at them and burned their French fries with my heat vision. They looked down sadly. It was a good thing Briana was looking away at the time, eh?

"So, how was your weekend, Briana?" I asked. She turned away. "Oh, fine. The weirdest thing happened on Friday night, though." "Oh yeah?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Yeah," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. " I mean, I was practicing my karate, and I thought I saw Spartan watching me do so."

My eyes widened in fear. "You think, or you know?" I asked, hoping my voice didn't give away how terrified I felt on the inside. "I'm pretty sure I saw him, yes. You know, guys…I think he likes me. I mean, one: he saved me from those thieves at the deli, brought me home, and even got me a Coke. Now he's watching me practice. Some would call it stalker-ish, but I think it's sweet."

"And," I said, gulping, "how do you feel about him? Do…do you like him?" I listened to her heartbeat. It was racing. Briana turned to me and stared at me directly in the eyes, smiling very mischievously. "Why, Kyle? Jealous?"

I faked a laugh, hoping it sounded convincing. "Me? Jealous of Spartan? Never."

She nodded skeptically, and turned away, blushing slightly. Leon and Jackson glared at me. They didn't need to talk. I knew what they were asking. "Is this true?" I merely nodded.

After lunch, Leon, Jackson, and I parted ways with Briana, when Leon pinned me against a wall. "Dude, what the hell?" I snapped. "You're using his powers to stalk her. That's not right, Kyle." "Yeah, what he said," Jackson agreed. I looked at Jackson. "Shove it, Jackie Boy."

I grabbed Leon's arms and squeezed them until he let go of me. His eyes winced in pain. "It's not like that. I'm not stalking her. Listen." And so I told them everything about the dream, to why I did what I did. As I did so, their faces changed from ones of anger to ones of shock and pity. "I have a bad feeling, guys," I concluded.

"Why don't you just tell her everything?" Jackson suggested, even though it had nothing to do with the conversation, yet strangely everything at the same time. "There are…complications, too many complications," I muttered. "Like what?" Jackson screamed. "Tell me one complication, and I'll back off."

I turned away, unable to think of one. He was right; the only thing stopping me from telling her was, ironically, me. I was about to say something when Leon burst in, "You know, Kyle, you may have super-speed and all, but we don't, and if we don't start moving, we're fucked." I looked at my watch. He was right. Damn him…

We made it to class just in time.

After school, I sat in the nice, air-conditioned auditorium with Leon and Jackson, watching Briana perform her Karate moves. God she looked good in that gi…Her moves were fluid but strong, graceful yet deadly. I had no doubt that if I lacked my abilities, she could kick my ass.

I was brought of the trance her moves put me in by my phone ringing (Superman Theme was set as the ringtone). Everyone surrounding me glared at me. I quickly muttered an apology then ran out into the hall. Why'd I forget to set it on vibrate, I don't know. I checked the Caller ID. It read: Private Number. "Yeah, what do you ?" I answered. "Hello, Mr. Wyatt," the voice said. I recognized it instantly. "Murdoch!" I yelled. "So, you remember me. I'm touched."

"What do you want?" I demanded of him. "Simple," he replied. "You." "Sorry, pal, but I don't swing that way." How I was able to keep my sexy sarcastic wit about me, I'll never know. I heard the bastard laugh over the phone. "Your wit is still as sharp as ever, Mr. Wyatt. Too bad your wit alone won't save your father."

"M-my father?" "Yes. Daddy. Padre. Papa. Whatever you want to call him, he is here, in my office. Dead, if you don't come. You have ten minutes."

"Wait-"I began, but he'd already hung up. I cursed. I looked from the door leading outside to the door leading back to the auditorium. "I'm so sorry, Briana…" I whispered, so low I could barely hear it. Then I dashed out of the school, became Spartan, and swung away into the twilight, not looking back.

Fifteen

I swung to the office of Dean Murdoch, eavesdropping on his conversation. For once in his life, he sounded fearful, but he still had that edge of cockiness in his voice that I couldn't wait to beat out of him. One voice, an elderly British one, said, "This is your last chance, Murdoch. Either bring us Spartan, or you're done."

"Y-yes, Overlord Halsen. He should be coming any minute now." I swung through the window, breaking it and landing in a super-badass ninja pose. Murdoch turned to look at me, along with a…blue, glowing, holographic head. Yeah, I don't get it either. "Actually, I'm already here. Oh sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" I quipped. The head (Overlord Halsen, I assumed) turned to Murdoch and said "Do what must be done" before vanishing.

"Where's my father?" I asked. Murdoch smiled, then said, "At home, where else?" I glared at him. He'd lured me here, using my love for my father as bait. "You're a bastard, you know that?" I remarked. Murdoch shrugged. "It's what I do best. I knew it would be the only way to get you here. Your care for your loved ones makes you weak, Spartan. If you join Adventus, I will personally remove you of any such weakness. You will then be truly invincible!"

"Hmm…let me think about that for a minute," I said, putting my hand to chin and pretending to think about it for a while. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks for the offer, though." Murdoch frowned and pressed a button on his desk. Instantly, my Battle Sense flared.

Three skeletal robots appeared from a hidden doorway. They had glowing red eyes, but were otherwise just metal skeletons. "Behold, Spartan," Murdoch said. "The SK-1's. Despite their flimsy appearances, they have incredible speed, strength, and reflexes. You wonder why I haven't bothered you for months? I've been busy readying these beauties. Can you guess what they're for?"

I thought for a minute. "Does the 'SK' stand for Spartan Killer, by any chance?" Murdoch jumped up and down, clapping his hands, the freak. "Very good! You're much more intelligent than I gave you credit for. So…your last chance." Oh boy, here it comes: Join me or die.

"Join me…or be destroyed." Eh, I was close enough. "Uh, I choose option 'C'. With that, I dashed to one of the robots and punch a hole in it, then, using the hole, ripped it in half. I looked at Murdoch. He looked terrified. "Oh dear…" he said, before running out of the room.

I started to run after him, but one of the two remaining SK's leaped onto my back and started strangling me. I struggled for a minute, planning my next move. Almost out of breath, I ripped its arms off and threw them to the ground. The robot looked at its missing appendages, then lunged at me, fighting until the end. I fired my heat vision at it at its highest temperature. Though it was still lunging at me, it was slowing down, and right as it was about to reach me, it finally exploded, sending me flying back.

Two down, one to go, I couldn't help thinking while uncontrollably flying through the air. For the second time in about a year, I was able to control myself long enough to back flip in midair and kick off a wall, straight at the last SK.

On my way, I grabbed the head of one of the fallen 'bots and threw it at the robot, which dodged it. Thinking fast as I as I approached it, I grabbed its torso, and we both crashed through the window, and fell for what seemed like forever, exchanging blows, until finally I managed to "knock its block off, " beating it. Unfortunately for me, I was still falling.

Sixteen

I fell for what seemed like forever, waiting to land so I could get Murdoch. Then my common sense kicked in and I fired a webline to slow down my descent. I landed safely, making no impact on the ground. I started to move to leap back up to the building when I heard a thud. Then another. I tried to tune into it with my hearing, to no avail. The sounds got louder and louder. I turned around and nearly wet myself.

What faced me was a giant mech. It stood about ten feet tall, and looked to be made of reinforced steel. The only true part I could make out was the cockpit (which doubled as the torso), where Murdoch sat in a command suit. I leaped directly in front of him to confront him.

"Nice outfit," I said. Murdoch's voice, synthesized, answered: "Thank you. I also designed this during the months between our meetings, Spartan. In case the SK's failed (which was highly unlikely, but I was proven wrong); this exo-suit is designed to finish you. And your precious city."

"For God's sake man," I cried, "I've turned you down three times already! Do you really think I'd change my mind?" Murdoch snorted. "I would have thought you valued your own life, Spartan. I guess I was wrong."

With that, a sonic screech emitted from the suit, paralyzing me with pain. The mech, as I will refer to it, knocked me into the air, my Battle Sense not giving me any warning. Horrified, I realized that the sound waves kept me from holding my focus, thus weakening me. People to all sides of me were either a) screaming out of fear or b) chanting my name. I couldn't let them down! I wouldn't.

I regained control of my body long enough to fire a webline at a nearby building and swing kick the mech. I let go of the line and landed, trying to see if I'd done any damage. No such luck. I didn't even leave a fucking dent!

All the while, the mech continued to emit its sonic screech, but I was focused on my goal: saving the day. His one advantage was useless to him now, which was good for me, as it retaliated by striking at me with its arm. I leaped up, then rebounded on the arm, about to try to make a move on its "head", when a metallic rope, much like my own web, launched at me and tied me hope. So that's what it feels like being tied up, I thought. The line constricted around my body, making it hard for me to breath, and started bashing me on the ground. It was hard for me to maintain my invincibility, but I managed. I tried busting out of the rope. Yeah, that didn't happen.

"Don't bother," Murdoch's voice said. "The ropes are made of the same indestructible material as this combat suit. You are trapped here until I decide to let you go. If I decide to let you go."

The world was going black. All my senses were dulling, and it was getting even harder for me to breathe. I closed my eyes, beginning to accept the end. "Very good, Spartan. You know you cannot win. For this, the deaths of your loved ones will be quick and painless…well, maybe," he said, his voice oozing with superiority and smugness.

My eyes snapped open. That did it. Threaten me all you want, but when you say you're gonna kill my friends and family, there's gonna be hell to pay. Feeling the anger course through my bones, my muscles, my very being, I screamed in rage and broke free of the rope. "Impossible," Murdoch said, sounding shocked. I glared at him under my glasses. Desperate, he fired another rope at me. This time, I caught it, my reflexes being even better than usual. I screamed for everyone in the immediate area to get down, and started swinging the mech around.

Having gained enough momentum, I let go and sent the mech flying towards the water, hopefully shorting it out. I sighed and went to run back to the High School, hoping that I could catch the last of Briana's demonstration. Then I heard a sound that was a lot like an old women crying.

I looked up in the air and saw the mech return, utilizing jet boots. "Oh give me a break," I said. The mech launched a missile at me, which I proceeded to attach a webline to. I leaped up into the air and propelled the missile back at its original owner. The mech dodged it and landed, looking everywhere for me.

What it failed to realize was that I was on top of it. I blasted my heat vision at full force and tore a hole to which (I hoped) was the main power conduit…thing. I prayed that I was right, and ripped the wire out.

The mech died almost instantly. I leaped off the head of the machine and waited in front of the cockpit. Dean Murdoch emerged in a puff of smoke, which I happily take responsibility for and pressed a button on the flight suits arm. I grabbed him by the collar. "You're going to jail, Murdoch. There's a whole bunch of eyewitnesses here. Looks like I won after all. Bitch."

Murdoch spit in my face. I didn't flinch, but threw him down on the ground. "You've think you've one, Spartan? Just because you beat me and my mech?" he cried maniacally. "Uh…yeah, pretty much," I said. Murdoch started laughing again. "You've lost Spartan. LOST!"

"What the hell are you smoking?" I asked. Still laughing, Murdoch replied, "Instead of talking wise to me, you should go check on your girlfriend."

My eyes widened under my glasses, after determining his meaning. "What did you do?" I whispered.

Seventeen

I swung to the High School as fast as I could, Murdoch's words echoing in my mind. The bastard revealed confided to me (after some torture) that he got Wyners out of juvey the first time, as he was intrigued by the stories of his knife becoming white hot instantly. Murdoch knew that Wyners, a mentally unstable man, would take drastic measures to get revenge on the person who put him in that hell (in this case Briana). He also predicted that the one who caused the knife to become hot would reappear to save the day. I know it was a lot to bet on, but he was right. I played right into his hands by saving the girl from that fire that day.

Murdoch proceeded to explain that he got Wyners out of jail early, in case all his plans for me failed, so that even if I won, I lost. After he confided in me, I head-butted him and webbed him to a lamppost, then made my way to the school.

I swung over a red convertible that was driving perfectly and looked at the time. 5:37. I struggled to go faster.

I was nearly there when I saw Briana crossing the street. She looked upset. I realized it right there that it was my fault. I had told her I'd come to her show. Even though I showed up, I let almost as soon as it started. She probably thought I never came. I made it a point to tell her everything later, as soon as I stopped Wyners.

Out of nowhere, a car came racing down the street and hit Briana. I land and dash towards her. "No…" I said. People surrounded us, including Jackson and Leon. "Briana…come on, Bree. Talk to me…you can't be dead. Come on…please!" I listened for a sign of life in her. Nothing. She was gone. I looked at my watch. Time of death: 5:42.

I looked at Jackson and Leon and shook my head. They both started silently crying. My pain transcended tears. Growling, I ran to the car and ripped the door off. In the drivers seat, Geoff Wyners is laughing. He stopped when he caught sight of me…and my symbol.

"You!" he screamed. "You got me in jail, you FUCK! I'll KILL you now." Wyners took out a knife and stabbed me. The knife shattered into a million shards. Wyners fearfully looked from the hilt to me. "What are you?" he screamed. I ripped off the mask and glasses, revealing my face.

Scattered whispers erupted in the crowd. They recognized me. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. "Wyatt," Wyners whispered. "It can't be…

I threw him out of the car and started beating him senseless. Blood flowed, bones broke. I kept at it until Leon and Jackson pulled me off him. That was when I lost it. All control lost, I started crying. She was gone. Briana Walker, the love of my life, was gone.

I broke free of their grip and ran to Briana's lifeless corpse. "I love you," I said to it. To her. Leon came over to me. "Kyle…come on. There's nothing anyone can do now. Not even you."

Putting my mask and glasses on, I said, "Yes there is," and then, somehow, I flew into the sky.

Eighteen

I flew. That's right. I have no idea how it happened, but all that matters is that I did. I flew incredibly fast. There had to be something I could do to save her. Had to.

I flew, images of everything that had just happened racing through my mind. With each image, I flew faster and faster, trying to escape the pain. I had never failed before. Ever. Spartan always managed to save the day on the end.

That thought brought me more grief, and I flew the fastest I could. My muscles were screaming at me to stop, my tendons were tearing, and blood was pouring down my body. I didn't care. I kept flying, until a flash of light stopped me by blinding me for a few seconds.

I hovered in the air, wondering what that was about, when the same red car that drove by before drove by again. Somehow it managed to be in the same place I was, when I was flying at incredible speeds, and it was obeying the speed limit. Then I realized I was halfway towards the high school!

I looked at my watch.. It was 5:38. Somehow I'd gone back in time! I realized I'd gone so fast that I made a rip in the space-time continuum flux…thing and traversed through it. I had another chance.

Without second thought, I raced towards the high school. I wasn't able to go as fast as I did before, most likely due to the fact that the effort itself exhausted me. But still, I was flying pretty damn fast.

A minute later I saw her in my sights, looking upset still, and then I heard Wyners car coming at her. It was then I realized I wasn't gonna catch her in time. Thinking fast, I fired dual weblines at her and pulled her into my arms. Wyners car raced by and crashed into a parked car. I looked back and flipped him off as I flew away.

"Are you alright?" I asked Briana. Wide eyed, she nodded. "Y-you can fly?" she asked, startled. "Yeah, I know, I'm surprised too. Hold on tight, ma'am. I'll bring you home."

A minute or two later we landed on her balcony. "Thanks, Spartan. This is, what, the second time you rescued me?" she laughed. "Never thought I'd be a damsel in distress!" I laughed humorlessly. "Don't worry about it," I said. "You're sure you're alright?" I asked. Briana smiled and nodded. "Just a little shaken up, is all." I nodded at her and leaped onto the railing of the balcony, prepared to leave. "Wait!" she called, stopping me. I turned my head towards her. "Yes, Ms. Walker?" I said. She looked taken aback.

"How do you know my name?" she asked. "I know everything," I said. "It's in the job description." She smiled, and I fought the urge to tell her everything. I was afraid I'd indirectly hurt her, if she knew. I leaped off the balcony. "There's something you wanted?"

Briana stared at me for a second, then caught herself. "Oh…yeah…" she stammered, then kissed me on the cheek. I felt where she kissed with a gloved hand, then sighed deeply.

"Listen, Ms. Walker…Briana…I can't get into a relationship with you right now."

"Oh," she said, looking slightly hurt. "I'm sorry, I…" "Don't apologize, Briana. It's just…I'm Spartan, the local hero. I constantly have to save the day, and there…there just wouldn't be enough time left for you. You deserve better than me." The words hurt as I said them, but I didn't stop. Unfortunately, they had to be said. "I'm sorry. But…you should move on, find someone else…someone better than me."

I looked at her, then leaped back onto the balcony. "See you around, Briana," I said, then flew away into the sunset.

I flew by the school, and without stopping, webbed a dumbstruck Wyners to a flagpole with a note stuck to his head, explaining everything to the authorities. There was still one last thing that needed to be done, though.

I arrived back at the area where me and Murdoch engaged in battle. I would be lying if I said I was not shocked to find neither Murdoch nor the mech present, or a team of police cleaning up. I did however, find a portable video camera. I checked it out and found one video. I played it. Niles Ferris' face appeared.

"Greetings, Spartan," he said pompously. "I am here to inform you that Dean Murdoch will not be bothering you anymore. He was a disease that had to be eradicated." That's a relief, I thought.

"However," the pompous prick continued. "Adventus will still be keeping an eye on you. Have a pleasant day."

Looking at the setting sun, I crushed the camera, and I was gone before it's remains hit the ground.

Nineteen

At lunch that Monday, Briana gave me the silent treatment. Knowing I wasn't wanted, I sat alone at another table opposite them, eavesdropping on their whispered conversation. It was about me…erm, Spartan.

"And then he flew away into the sunset!" she whispered enthusiastically. Jackson asked her if Spartan told her who he really was. I rolled my eyes, thinking: If I told her, do you REALLY think I'd be sitting alone right now!

Leon and I were obviously on the same wavelength, as he elbowed Jackson. "No, Jackson, he didn't tell me who he is, but I have a feeling," she said. I coughed on my orange soda. They all looked at me. I looked back. Briana shook her head, then gave me an almost sad sideways glance. "Someone special," she said. I breathed a sigh of relief.

At home, I laid on my bed, trying to sort everything out. Briana loved Spartan and hated me. Does that make sense? Even if it didn't, it was the truth. Dad walked in. "Kyle…are you alright? You've either been saving people as Spartan or laying down on your bed. Something's up. Tell me."

I struggled with my words for a little while, then immediately told him everything: Adventus, The Fight with Murdoch, Briana's Death, me going back in time, all of it. Dad looked at me sympathetically. "It…it'll be alright, Kyle. Everything will get better soon."

We hugged, and I could tell Dad was struggling with something. "Kyle," he croaked. "Get in a suit and meet me in the car. We're going for a drive." "Where, Dad?" "A place long overdue, son. A place long overdue."

A half-hour later, I was standing over my mother, Nina Wyatt's, grave. I look at Dad, shocked. He smiled. "I told you things would be different, Kyle. Talk to her." I hug Dad, then turn to the grave. I fell on my knees.

"Hey Mom…it's Kyle. I'm sorry I haven't visited you in a while, but things have been…difficult. You see, it all started two December's ago…"

I proceeded to tell her everything starting with Phoenix, and ending with me coming here. "So, that's that," I said, standing up. Dad stood behind me, and out his hand on my shoulder. "She'd be proud of you Kyle, just like I am."

The two of us embraced, and I heard sirens. I instantly became alert, and my Dad knew why. "Do what you need to, Son. I'll be here." I smiled at him, then turned to Mom's grave. "Sorry Mom, gotta go do the hero thing. I love you."

After that word, I dashed away, ripped open my shirt, became Spartan, and went to save the day once again.

My name is Kyle Wyatt. Teenager. Student. Friend. Son…

Spartan.

This story is dedicated with love and respect to Luke Allen, Jimmy Cricchio, and Brittany Wolfe, the people I care for most in this world. This one's for you guys.

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