CHAPTER 76: POWER TO THE PEOPLE

"When you look at a city, it's like reading the hopes, aspirations and pride of everyone who built it."

-Hugh Newell Jacobsen

The city of Hillwood was cut off from the rest of the developed world, left to rot away like a gangrenous wound for over a month. In hopes of removing themselves of the problem and the troubles of solving it, the United States government had taken the action of disowning it from the nation, choosing to ignore the issue in hopes that it would eventually go away.

But the people of the nation would not allow them to forget their atrocious mistake. Ever since the decision to remove Hillwood from the collective of the United States, protests have been occurring to call for its reinstatement, with a movement going as low as every average American citizen up to the highest forms of government like Representative Olga Pataki.

Desperate to find a quicker solution to the threat of the Freak and the endless protests, President Milius Arcudi sent a suicide squad of incarcerated supervillains into the city of Hellwood to evaluate and eliminate the threat themselves. His actions were kept top-secret, not wishing to have the bad publicity of co-conspirating with dangerous men to save his own career.

But his actions were not rewarded with his desired effect. Instead, the villains were not only defeated by the Freak, but the same threat put the team up against the Green Eye in a gladiator fight, making light of his attack and using it to try to accomplish his own goals of defeating the Green Eye and televising it to the world.

Like the president, the Freak's efforts were not met with his desired reward, with the Green Eye escaping to fight again. However, despite the completely wrong way in which things unfolded for all, the end result of the televised event still had two significant impacts on the nation:

One: President Milius Arcudi's approval reached a record low, with many still calling for Hillwood's return as well as his impeachment.

Two: The world witnessed the Green Eye fighting the villains mercilessly, but, despite almost killing them, did not.

The latter of the two led to a serious conversation regarding his status as a hero, and how his efforts had been effecting the state of Hellwood. Many discussions by the nation, all questioning what to make of the televised event and where to look at the Hellwood situation from here on out.

News stations across the country had nothing on their minds nor anything else to discuss but this phenomenon, with all their anchors contributing to the discourse.

"All eyes turn to the issue of Hellwood with a renewed interest in the latest appearance of the Green Eye, presumed to be dead after the Fall of Hillwood-" One TV anchor said.

"The Green Eye, the first superhero to appear in America, is still alive and running. However, during his recent appearance on the Freak's televised threat, the country is split on its interpretation of the sage superhero-" Another TV anchor said.

"The Green Eye: A universal symbol of peace, or just another vigilante above the law? Witnessing his outburst of violence over the Freak's televised message, the country is left wondering if he has truly lost his way and succumbed to the mad world of Hellwood, or has he still held strong?" A different TV anchor asked.

Flipping through the various channels was Gerald Johanssen, watching all these channels and different viewpoints in hopes of finding more information regarding the event. All he can find are simple replays of the Green Eye's outburst, censored for TV, and talking points that repeat or contradict one another.

The talking points he hears are not his primary concern, but instead the footage itself. When the Green Eye's outburst of anger had concluded with a show of mercy before his eventual rescue, Gerald could see something that no other commentator or spectator could notice; something that only he could see through the lens of his close friend:

The Green Eye had still not given up his values, and was still fighting with all he had in him.

He was not watching the news alone, as gripping at his hand was the soft hand of the precious life in the world to him: Phoebe Heyerdahl. Rolling up her wheelchair to accompany him, she watched the event alongside him with discomfort, her own feelings on the situation not as clear as her fiancee's.

"Gerald?" Phoebe asked.

Once deep in thought, Gerald was snapped back to reality with the simple touch of Phoebe's hand, focused on her instead.

"Oh, hey, Pheebs. Need something?" Gerald asked.

"I want to know if you're okay. Are you?" Phoebe asked.

Gerald let out a light groan' his thoughts uneasy and his response displaying the same sentiment.

"Just don't know how to feel." Gerald asked.

"How so?" Phoebe asked.

"Arnold's still out there, fighting his ass off, nearly going crazy. You saw what the Freak did to his family. He might not have killed anyone, but he came damn close."

"But he didn't. I was scared of that, too, but I know Arnold won't go off the deep end like that. He's always had his moments, but he'd never lose it. Is that what you're scared of?"

"No. At least not a lot. It's just that... It's that he's still out there, and he's been fighting all this time. What have I been doing? Not only have I been harping on his ass the whole time, but I thought he would've just given up by now. He proved me wrong. And what am I doing now? Standing out in the snow like an idiot with signs that nobody in power's reading."

"You're doing everything you can, Gerald."

Disagreeing with his fiancee's sympathies, Gerald released himself from her hold.

"No, I'm not." Gerald said.

Stepping out of the room, Gerald moved to the guest room of his parents' house; the primary place of stay for himself and Phoebe. Not understanding what motivations he held nor what the actions her fiancee was being led to, Phoebe pushed her wheelchair after him, moving to the door of the room with haste.

Believing herself to have done wrong to Gerald in some way and driven him to making an incorrect decision to harm himself, what she finds instead is a sight that she did not expect to ever see again. Gerald, digging his old G-Funk costume out from the closet, began packing it in a bag, alongside the detached pieces of his Sonic Fork weapon.

Zipping the bag shut, Gerald slung it on his back, approaching Phoebe one last time. Rather than make any actions or decisions that brought her more alert, he kneeled down to his wife-to-be, grasping her hands in his one last time. Aware of his intentions but not fully understanding them, Phoebe leaned in to listen to him.

"Listen. I can't keep staying here while things go bad. I gotta help Arnold. He might not be on his own, but he needs all the help he can get. You might be my girl, but he's still my best friend. And Helga's yours. I gotta fight." Gerald said.

Having no moral quarrels to argue against Gerald, Phoebe could not bring anything out of herself to criticize him. Instead, she simply gave a nod.

"Just promise me you'll be come home. I know you can't sit here while things go bad... but I can't go on like this without you." Phoebe said.

"I promise. After I settle this, I ain't goin' anywhere ever again." Gerald said.

Rising up once again, Gerald shared one last kiss with Phoebe, receiving a proper send-off to his mission. Having nothing left in his way but a long road to his destination, he began to walk to the door of the house, collecting the last needed items for his departure.

"You know, Hillwood's completely closed off from the outside world. How are you going to get there?" Phoebe asked.

"Well, you'd need a guy that can walk through walls... and we just happen to know one." Gerald said.

Far from the events of the affair of this engaged could and much later in time, a large manor in the city of Madison, Wisconsin holds two other individuals who have the topic of Hillwood on their minds. One of them, like Gerald, has a personal stake in the events of recent and needs to see resolution to the issue at hand.

This one individual is Rhonda Lloyd. Watching the level of chaos that the city has fallen into, and how far Arnold has fallen in his war to save the city, she can no longer stay her hand from intervening in the fight anymore. Taking out an outfit that she had stuffed away following her rebirth, she applied the leotard back on, strapping her swords to her back once again.

Preparing to climb out the window, Rhonda prepared to leave the manor behind. Before leaving, however, a stern voice made comment of her attempt to leave.

"You know, the front door would be much easier to leave from. I know you have powers and you can heal, but that's a full story fall." Vlad said.

Turning to the voice's origin, Rhonda looked on its owner looking back at her: Vlad Masters. Unable to leave in secret, she climbed back out of the window into the room.

"Of course, that plan doesn't even account for how you plan to get on the island. It's surrounded by cops, U.S. Marshals, and the National Guard." Vlad said.

"Do you have a better idea of how I get back to Hillwood?" Rhonda asked.

"You can try asking nicely."

Initially mistaking Vlad's interruption for disapproval, Rhonda quickly understood his intentions as supportive to her cause.

"You'll help me?" Rhonda asked.

"It's better than seeing you cooped up around here, angrily slashing at whatever target practice you make for yourself. I won't be able to offer you any assistance, but I can get you on the island no problem." Vlad said.

"Why not?"

"The world might already have a knowledge of higher powers in superheroes, but I'm a fundamentally different category. Where I get my powers from comes from the fabric of the universe itself. Something the world isn't ready for yet as it is. I still have to keep myself an unknown. Can you deal with being on your own?"

A slight degree of uncertainty washed over her, but Rhonda reinforced her position with a firm but simple nod.

"I won't be alone." Rhonda said.

Understanding of Rhonda's position, Vlad gave a nod as well, preparing himself for the journey as well.

"Very well. A one-way trip to hell it is-" Vlad began to say.

Hearing a ringing of the doorbell, both parties' attentions were brought to it, confused as to who their unexpected guest could be.

Heading downstairs to the front door of the manor, the duo were greeted by a restless and eager Gerald Johanssen, now dressed in the form G-Funk. Holding his Sonic Fork at the ready, he displayed the weapon by giving it a spin, subsequently pressing it down to the ground again.

"Flying's the last thing I want to do after a last-minute 4-hour flight to get here, but I need your help. I gotta get back to Hillwood." G-Funk said.

Summoned at the mere power of his will, two black rings split from his midriff; one rising above, one going below. As the rings moved, his luxurious pajamas transformed to a white suit and cape with red interior, and his skin a pale blue with a crescent of black hair reaching up like a pair of a devil's horns.

Gone, gone was the form of Masters, now to rise was the ghost Plasmius.

"You're in luck. The last flight's leaving right now." Vlad said.

The darkest of night has fallen on Hellwood, with the promise of a brighter dawn following the rise of the sun again. The mere image of a dawn rising once again always gives promise to a new tomorrow and a new beginning, with new potential to be found at every corner, but this is not the mindset of our next subject.

Our next subject is the most important and central in all of the events that have led up to Hellwood as it is: Arnold Shortman.

Raised in the city since he was brought home by his parents at the first few months of his life, returning to it after a 5-year absence and powers that pull him deeper into the collective consciousness and psyche of the city itself, there is no one else on Earth that shares a connection as deep and as close with this city as he does.

But connection is a vulnerable tie. Just as building up and keeping a connection gives the fruits of joy and security, the severing of the connection leads to the loss of those positive emotions, and the fallout of that loss can be one too great to bear; the dependence on those feelings still remaining without their dosage.

Arnold Shortman has built many connections over the years of his life in Hillwood, befriending the slick and streetwise Gerald, the bright and kind Phoebe, the snobby but sensible Rhonda, the rough but well-meaning Harold, the simple and sincere Stinky, the timid but loyal Sid, the sweet and peaceful Sheena, the self-kept but friendly Nadine, and the joyful and fearless Eugene.

All were different men and women of diverse backgrounds; each with a story, a past, a culture, and a potential for greatness that Arnold saw in them.

One by one, those young people that once had their own futures ahead of them were taken away. He has felt the loss of each one, remembering and taking in the pain of each of their deaths, and still to this point he has not made himself immune to the emotions that come with each death. With each disconnect from these persons, he feels a further disconnection from the world itself.

Hours ago, the last of those friends had died; giving his own life to save his. With the exception of Gerald and Rhonda, there are none left that he can call a friend any longer in his struggle, let alone an ally. The closest that remains for him now are an unintelligent sociopath, a fallen hero that hangs by threads, and a lover with whom their relationship rests on uneasy ground.

Even when these allies had proven themselves to him by coming to his rescue, their actions do not speak to him. Needing his own time to think, Arnold sits to himself.

But he does not remain alone for long. Coming to his aide in his hour of need again like many times before, the astral projection of Luz made himself visible before him, making his presence known to his student. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he gives a physical reminder to Arnold that he is not alone.

"You do no one favors by mourning in silence, Arnold. Especially not yourself." Luz said.

Arnold gave no reply to Luz's comment, still stuck in his own thoughts. Seating himself to the floor, Luz continued his attempts to help him.

"I may not be present in physical form, but I can still feel your emotions as you feel them. All the deaths of your friends and family have taken their toll on you. It is difficult to continue fighting when there becomes less friends and family worth fighting for. But there are still many that would be saved by you whether they call you friend or not." Luz said.

"It's not just that they're dead, Luz. It's how they all died. Curly killed them all. He didn't even just kill my family. He... he did all those things to their bodies. He completely... desecrated them. Humiliated them." Arnold said.

"A body is but a body, child. A vessel for a greater power and eternal life. What he had done to the former vessels of your family do not truly affect them. They have moved on from this world to a paradise beyond such pain."

"Stop, Luz. Just stop. I don't need to hear you proselytize to me at a time like this."

"I speak nothing of religions or mythologies. I speak but the truth. There are still many things you have yet to learn, and the afterlife is but one you have yet to learn. There are many afterlives beyond this world, many the constructs of the souls moving on from this realm, many of those based on their own beliefs and some their own personal worlds, and there is also a place where souls remained trapped and damned, unable to find paradise or damnation. Your parents and grandparents, I guarantee you, no longer suffer. Where they have gone, they remain together and in love. That is what they desired. And they wish nothing but the best for you."

Luz's personal guarantee helped to calm any tension from the sensitive issue, but Arnold was still not swayed from his stance of inaction.

"It still doesn't matter. It's not about what Curly does. It's why he's doing it. He wants me to kill him. He even claims that he knows that I will." Arnold said.

"And even after all that has occurred, you still cannot fulfill his wish." Luz said.

"I can't. That's not who I am. I can't give up on him like that."

"So, you have lost so much at his hands, he causes suffering to many others, he not only cannot be stopped by his death, but demands it from you, and you will still not give it to him."

"No."

"Why, then? Is it your way of claiming victory over him? To deny him his wishes? Is it to stand by your principles? To never stray from your own ideology? Is it to be superior to him? To stand the morally stronger?"

"All of them at once. If I give him what he wants by killing him, he wins. He wants me to kill him to prove his point that not everyone can be saved. If you end someone's life because they did a wrong, it's essentially saying that you don't believe that there's a chance that they can change their ways or become someone better. You give up on them completely. But I believe everyone can become better. Even Curly. He's always had his problems throughout life, and I've tried to help him before. I was gone for 5 years, and if I wasn't, I could've been here to prevent all of what's happened. If I kill him, that means that I gave up on him. I can't give up on anyone."

"What if one does not wish to be helped? That they wish to be given up on?"

"I wanted to be given up on when I tried to jump all those years ago. But you didn't give up on me. You saved my life and I'm still here today. For better and worse."

Not expecting his own student to provide a lesson to him, Luz gave a look of impression on his face, as if contemplating the thought placed in his head.

"Then what shall you do?" Luz asked.

"I've been thinking about that. I can't kill Curly, but I wouldn't be able to, anyways. He's not just your average street thug or even anyone else he's recruited. He's a Spirit Master, too. He can't die, but maybe I don't have to kill him." Arnold said.

"Then how will you defeat him?"

"I'll keep fighting him. I'll keep fighting him until he gives up... or there's nothing left of him to fight with. He'll survive what I do to him, and I'll never kill him... but I will finish him."

"And will you stand alone?"

"If I have to."

"But you do not. There are many who still call you an ally, and who would fight for you as you have for them. Your goal has been to bring the city of Hillwood back to its former state. What better way is there than to encourage others to rise above and together?"

Picking up Arnold's broken staff, Luz held two pieces together.

"Alone..." Luz said.

Luz moved the pieces away from one another, mimicking the motion of one piece breaking.

"...you can fall. You are not strong enough as one." Luz said.

Luz collected the 3 pieces of the staff together, holding them together in a bundle. Trying to break the pieces, they did not; their strength holding up against his.

"But, you are stronger when you fight together. When you... unite." Luz said.

Luz handed off the 3 pieces to Arnold, letting them fall into his open hands. Having made his final speech to his student, Luz's form dissipated, returning to his body.

Left with the final pieces of his staff, Arnold thought carefully over his conversation with Luz, discovering a newfound strength instilled in him to continue. Looking on the 3 pieces of his staff, he knew that he had his duty made clear for him, and nothing left in his way but the final victory.

But victory he could not achieve without battle, and battle he could not engage in without his weapons. Having his staff destroyed, there laid now the task of repairing the damage done to it. Just as he has been changed through the tribulations of Hellwood, forged into something stronger and more dedicated, he can no longer work with just a simple staff, but needed a new tool for his duty.

Taking to a workshop in the Hillwood Heroes' base, he collected the materials needed for his new weapon.

Swinging his staff around his body, Arnold displayed a series of blocks and strikes with the weapon, pantomiming an attack against nonexistent attackers in preparation for a battle against real opponents to come. Swishing his weapon around to the air, he concluded his various strikes with a bash to the ground.

Taking to the supplies of Valiance's workshop, he selected a roll of metal wire, miniature reels, and metal caps, constructing the required components to make his new weapon. Pulling on the ends of the newly-constructed pieces, he tested the strength of the wire, pulling it taut.

Detaching one end of his staff, Arnold converted it into a sweeper (A.K.A. a flail); something that resembles a staff with a smaller nunchuck attached to the end. Throwing the weapon around in a similar fashion, the detached end of the weapon moved at a greater speed than the rest of the body, turning each move into a quicker and deadlier strike with the loose end flying about.

With his new pieces at the ready, he took two pieces of his staff and attached them to one another with the new pieces of wire. Initially swinging them loosely, he further tested their connection by pulling them taut, stretching out the wire to test its strength against his own.

Detaching the other end of his staff, Arnold then turned the weapon into a three-sectional staff, something that resembles a triple-nunchuck. Grabbing the staff by the middle, he began spinning the weapon in a windmill-like fashion, sending the other separated portions flying fast and throwing it forwards like a whip. Extending his arms to grab the loose 2 ends, he practiced using them as separate billy clubs, using the middle as a use of defense.

Having tested the durability of the wire, Arnold required a test on the durability of the pieces' strength to stay attached again. Attaching the two pieces together, he began swinging the now 2 connected pieces against a punching bag. Each impact made heavy motions of energy towards its target, but the weapon stood strong against the test of durability it was given.

Detaching each loose piece from the middle, Arnold stashed away the middle piece in a pocket strapped to his leg. Attaching the two end pieces, he used the weapon as a shorter staff, making use of it like a long nightstick. Detaching the pieces but keeping the wire connected, he converted the weapon to a pair of nunchaku, swinging them back and forth across his body and back with speed, and throwing it against a small target, knocking it over and pulling the piece back by the wire.

Now having tested the strength of his new invention, Arnold repeated the process with the last piece of the staff, fully reconstructing his weapon. Sanding down the once-rough build of the wood, he spraypainted the entire weapon down to a dark green, matching his outfit as the Green Eye.

Concluding his practice with one final motion of his weapon in staff form, Arnold set one end to the ground, resting his head against it.

"It's time." Arnold said.

Taking to gathering the last of his allies to his fight, Arnold moved to another room of the Lloyd Manor to speak to the most significant of his allies and only remaining personal connection still alive. In search of Helga Pataki, he finds her resting on a bed, clutching at a pillow in anxiety.

Seeing him walk in the door, she released her stranglehold on the pillow, stepping off of the bed to lay her arms on Arnold again. Doing his best to reconcile what remained between the two, he returned the hug, holding her tight against him as if she were the only thing in the world he had for himself.

"I'm sorry, Arnold." Helga said.

"I'm sorry, too." Arnold said.

"You shouldn't be. It was my fault that this happened to you. I wanted to tell you the truth, but I didn't think it would make you so angry at me and-"

"I wasn't angry at you. I'll never be angry at you, Helga."

"But you were angry. You were beating people nearly to death."

"I said I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at myself."

Confused at his statement, Helga raised her head from his chest and looked him in the eyes, her look requesting more information.

"I've had a lot of unresolved feelings about a lot of things when I first got home. You know I still love you, but I never worked out some other feelings about Lila. I had tried to end it by just saying we were just crushes, but 5 years away made me forget a lot of things and think things differently. Maybe seeing her again just reopened something I thought I resolved, and I took to a moment of weakness. Whether or not that was based on a lie is irrelevant. What I did was my fault and mine alone. Not yours." Arnold said.

"Does that mean you're past it finally?" Helga asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to save her life and change her ways, but I'm not sorry that nothing else came of us. I know who's most important to me now, and I'm not making that same mistake again."

Leaning in to Helga, Arnold kissed her, leading her to return the kiss. Touching each other's skin and flesh once again, the two could feel what shaky foundation their lives laid upon together, their connection to one another and the real world itself, reconstruct and reconcile.

Although their bodies called on the urge to continue their consummation, their sense of duty to Hellwood called on them to return focus to the more important task.

"We have a city to save. You'd better get dressed. After all, you wanted to join me to save Hillwood. Now's the time." Arnold said.

Reaching to her bedside, Helga grabbed her mask, placing it on to return to her guise of Baise-Moi.

"I'm ready." Baise-Moi said.

Taking out his own mask, Arnold placed it over his face, turning to his guise as the Green Eye.

"Good." Green Eye said.

Moving to another room of Lloyd Manor, the two moved on to Valiance, the one who would prove to be the more difficult to bring along. Entering his room to prepare for the fight, the duo found him staring out at the city of Hellwood in silence; no longer comatose, but deeply lost in thought.

Hearing the entrance of the two heroes, he turned to acknowledge their presence, seeming to be indifferent about it.

"We're making our final move on Curly." Green Eye said.

Even with the sentence spoken out, Valiance seemed to be indifferent about the news; his emotions still numb and unresponsive to the world around him. Glimping into his mind, the Green Eye knew that his emotional state was much of the same, appearances not deceiving in this instance.

"You need my help." Valiance said.

"Yes." Green Eye said.

"Okay. I'm ready."

Nodding in agreement, the Green Eye and Baise-Moi began leaving the house with Valiance behind them, moving to make their departure to Old Hillwood.

Before leaving, their departure was noticed by Lars Rodriguez, smoking a joint on the couch with no apparent inner thoughts or care for his place in time. Seeing the rest of the heroes begin their departure, all dressed up for battle, a man of his knowledge was still able to deduce that he was needed.

"Lars." Green Eye said.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." Lars said.

Flicking aside his joint, he got up to join them, departing out into Old Hillwood.

Their march into Old Hillwood led quickly into the province, with their arrival treated with indifference from its denizens. Given the recent acts of violence shown from the Green Eye in Hellwood for the last 3 days, trust in the man without pain began to subside, showing a public distrust of him beginning to grow.

Well aware of his declining face with the people of Hellwood, he knew that mere words would not be enough to win back people...

...but having lost so much in the war, he has nothing left to give but his own word, whatever is left of it. Nonetheless, he gives all he has left to give, and he gives everything he has to give it. Standing on top of a small crate, making it his own compromised soapbox, he stood up to address the citizens of Old Hillwood.

"Ladies and gentlemen. I'm here to appeal to your community spirit. I am launching a full and final attack on the Freak with the Hillwood Heroes, and I need your help to do it." Green Eye said.

Though the announcement of the Green Eye gained many eyes and ears, his call was met with mere laughs and mockery.

"Oh, yeah? What Hillwood Heroes? All you have left is a killer and a psycho. Get fucked." One citizen said.

"Kiss my ass, man! I'm not going to war for you!" Another citizen said.

"I got enough problems on my plate! Suck it!" A different citizen said.

The mockery of the man without pain was met by members of the gang of Green Eyes, who wasted no time to attack the disapprovers and aim their guns at them.

"You will not make a mockery of the Green Eye! He is the one who showed us the way! You will pay for your insolence! You will be purged from Hellwood!" A Green Eye said.

Before the Green Eye gang member could pull the trigger to the citizen, the weapon was snatched from his hands by the true Green Eye, kicking his follower away.

"NO! This is not how we fight. This it the weapon of the enemy. Of cowards. We do not need it. We will not use it." The Green Eye said.

Taking the weapon and snapping it over his knee, the Green Eye broke it in half, throwing the pieces away. The other members of the Green Eyes, looking on the actions of their leader, slowly but surely tossed their own weapons aside, keeping to following him in principle as well as image.

Getting annoyed at the citizens' dismissal of his plea, the Green Eye changed his speech to a more aggressive stance, calling out the citizens on their own selfishness to fight. Rather than keep a higher stance above the rest to claim any superiority, he chose to remain at ground level, speaking to all as an equal.

"Look at yourselves. Your brothers and sisters are dying beside you, and all you can see is yourselves. This used to be a city. A community. A place of belonging and sharing. It still is, goddammit! It's not 'hooray for me and to hell with you'! It's a neighborhood... and these people are your neighbors." The Green Eye said.

The change in tone and speech began to strike a chord at last to the crowd, causing them to lean in and listen closer to what he had to say.

"This city has been around for over 200 years. We've been one of the strongest and tightest-knit communities that helped each other out. We've all had our first days of life learning at P.S. 118 to grow into smarter and better citizens. We've all taken our share of fun breaks from school going to the arcade to play some video games, or Dinoland for a quick thrill, or the YMAA to watch or play a sports game. We've grown up eating from restaurants run by regular people like you and me. We've grown up on these streets, we made them our home. The Freak has all but destroyed the entire city that was your home. Are you just going to sit there and let him get away with it?!" The Green Eye shouted.

"NO!" The crowd shouted.

"So you're not going to just sit there and take it anymore?!"

"NO!"

"Are you all mad as hell, and are you not going to take it anymore?!"

"YES!"

Though the Green Eye initially grew some support from the crowd, there was still a few that voiced their opinions of dissent.

"Oh, yeah? The Freak can eat bullets like nothing and fly. You expect us to take on someone like that on our own? We're just your average people. We're nothing." One citizen said.

"No, you're not. You're Hillwoodians. You're masters of the urban jungle, and you don't take abuse from anyone, but you won't let your neighbors take it, either. But the Freak is mine. His followers are yours. We will not kill the enemy. We will show them mercy, but only enough to let them reconsider. You will defeat them with your fists and your brains. When I get my hands on the Freak... I will show him no mercy." The Green Eye said.

Hearing of a fighting chance to win back their city, the crowd once again gave a shout, ready for battle to defeat their enemy at last. Still, however, skepticism remained.

"And why exactly should we trust you? You've already been fighting all by yourself to make things better, but we haven't seen any real improvement other than some of the big bad bosses going away. You're still a costume. You're not somebody who sits down here with us, eats with us, sleeps with us. You live up in that castle of yours, trying to preach on about how you wanna make things better. Why in the hell should we put our lives in your hands now?" One citizen asked.

The supporting rally that the crowd once gave the Green Eye once again turned to skepticism, with even some of the Green Eye gang showing uncertainty.

Watching all eyes turn back to him for an answer, the Green Eye thought carefully on how to answer his question, unsure on how to win back the crowd. Having given his word and all his promises, there was still one commodity that he did not have, the one that he could not receive without giving:

Trust.

Save, however, for one last motion.

"Because I'm putting my life in yours." The Green Eye said.

Reaching to his face, the Green Eye grabbed at his mask and took it off, showing his identity to the people of Hillwood.

Unable to believe the sight that they were given, the people of Hillwood looked on his action with surprise and shock; none expecting the man without pain to reveal his identity so easily. The motion surprised most the remainder of the Hillwood Heroes, all looking to him with a gasp.

"My name is Arnold Shortman." Arnold said.

Following his lead, Baise-Moi stepped forward next to Arnold and repeated the motion, removing her own mask to the crowd.

"My name is Helga Pataki." Helga said.

Valiance followed suit and removed his helmet, showing his face to the crowd.

"My name is Buckley Lloyd." Buckley said.

Having no mask of his own to remove, Lars simply stepped forward with the rest, awkwardly standing next to them.

"Uh... I'm Lars Rodriguez. But you already knew that." Lars said.

"I'm Gerald Johanssen." A voice said.

The Hillwood Heroes turned to the origin of the voice, finding Gerald removing his mask from his face. Turning to the surprised face of Arnold Shortman, Gerald gave a smile, extending out his fist and thumb in an old and familiar handshake that the two shared and knew well.

Returning the smile, Arnold completed the handshake, the two wiggling their thumbs together.

"I'm Rhonda Lloyd." Another voice said.

Stepping forward next to Gerald, Rhonda showed herself to the crowd, placing herself up with the rest of the Hillwood Heroes. Her appearance brought surprise and disbelief to the rest, but none so much as Buckley. Looking upon his daughter, he received a look from Rhonda, giving a pair of glaring eyes that were accompanied by an agreeing nod.

Remembering that their mission went beyond personal matters, Buckley nodded back.

The crowd, having been given the most personal secrets by the caped crusaders, now gave back to them what was given to them: Trust. Their readiness for war was instilled once again, their pride for their city restored, and all that laid now on their minds was the ultimate victory of taking back their home.

The Hillwood Heroes, grasping their hands together, raised them all to the air.

"Tonight, we are the Hillwood Heroes. Tomorrow, we are Hillwood!" Arnold shouted.

Gaining the last push for action, the crowd gave one last hurrah, their loudest and proudest one of all. Fists were raised in the air, compromised weapons like tools and chains in them, as well as the might for battle within all. Not one soul went without a sense of duty instilled in them again, and none would dare turn their backs on their home in this hour.

Feeling this collective pride as the crowd shouted it out, Arnold, too, felt it.

But they are not the final players in the last battle. There still rests one more card on the table, and the wildest one to offer.

Surrounded by a united force of the National Guard, the U.S. Marshals, and local police, the city of Hellwood is completely closed off from outside entry. Of course, with a city in such decay and disorder run completely by gangs, one would have to be insane and stupid to try to break in for personal reasons...

...but for this one final player, he is both stupid and insane to break in for his own personal reasons.

Waiting outside the border to the city, National Guardsmen wait on a destroyed bridge, guarding it from anyone attempting to get inside the city. As previously mentioned, not many would be daring or dumb enough to try to break inside, much less from a destroyed bridge, so they feel no need to raise their guards to the situation.

That mistake is what cost them the awareness of recognizing an incoming threat. One Guardsman spotted in the distance two headlights approaching towards their position on the bridge, causing him to tap one of his colleagues to bring further attention to it.

"Hey, we got another car coming. Looks like a big truck." The Guardsman said.

"Probably just another charity truck. Hate to turn 'em away, but I guess they don't quite get the idea of a 'no man's land', do they?" The other Guardsman asked.

Watching the headlights start to approach at a greater speed than usual, the mild concern of the Guardsmen turned to alertness.

"Is it just me, or that truck going a little fast?" The first Guardsman asked.

"Not just you." The second Guardsman said.

Raising their rifles up to the oncoming truck, they kept their aims low, giving the incoming vehicle's driver a benefit of the doubt on its intentions. Watching the truck grow closer and closer and its speed increasing, however, that benefit expired soon, specifically when seeing the truck come straight for them.

Aiming at the driver's window of the truck, the Guardsmen started firing at it, unloading their magazines at whoever might be driving the vehicle. Their attempts to stop the vehicle had no such effect on its course; the truck continued on its ramming speed, heading straight for the two.

Ducking out of the way of the truck, the Guardsmen evaded it as it crashed into a set of concrete barriers, ending its run. Gaining a full view of the truck, they noticed it was carrying a large trailer meant for holding cars, but no cars were present on its racks, or any sign of cargo.

The information seemed but trivial at the time, leaving them with the more important matter of arresting the driver. Heading up to the driver's canopy, one of the Guardsmen opened up the door, with his teammate keeping his rifle high and ready to fire on whoever was inside should a threat be waiting for them.

Upon opening the door, the Guardsman was blown back with a shotgun blast, knocking him to the ground. His teammate, sliding down under the door to avenge his friend, immediately opened fire inside the cabin, emptying his magazine into whoever was inside.

To his confusion, there laid no driver inside, but a double-barrel shotgun with a string tied to its trigger and the door, as well as a brick on the gas pedal, but no signs of a driver inside. Unsure of how to take this news, the Guardsman disregarded the strange sight, taking to his downed teammate.

"Hey, man, you alright?" The Guardsman asked.

"Fine. Armor got the blast. I'm okay. Just winded." The other Guardsman said.

"But there's no driver, right? You didn't see anyone run out?"

"Nope."

"Then who the hell did this and what for-"

Before able to ask his question, it was soon answered with the arrival of another vehicle, this one approaching much quicker than the truck. Soon coming into view, the new vehicle was a sports car, driving something over 200 miles an hour straight toward the Guardsmen.

As the standing Guardsman prepared to fire on the oncoming car, stumbling to reload his rifle, he soon found it was not necessary. The car, rather than aim for the Guardsmen, aimed for the smashed truck. Utilizing the empty car rack as a ramp, it leaped over the destroyed bridge, clearing the gap and landing on the other side with ease.

Watching the car fly over their heads, land roughly but right in the area they were meant to be protecting, the Guardsmen gave looks of both confusion and fear. Confusion settled in with both of them as to how this scenario was able to be set up so easily and without flaw...

...and their fear laid with how to explain this event and themselves.

Landing on the other side, the car still continued its course down the bridge, making its way into Hellwood. Unable to bring the car down to a decent speed, however, the driver's run of the car came to a stop upon coming to a series of abandoned cars on the road, crashing into one before he could stop.

Hearing the crash of the car, various scavengers took notice of the new arrival, all scurrying up to the car to investigate. Each of the scavengers came up to it with guns and rifles in their hands, seeking to eliminate the threat of whoever was inside in hopes of stealing their belongings.

The driver, rolling down the window to his car, greeted them with a sarcastic remark.

"Hi, there. I'll take a large Good Burger combo with a Yahoo Soda, please." The driver said.

"Very funny. You got a lot of nerve breaking in this place, man. People would kill to get their asses out of here." One scavenger said.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, man. This ain't no Good Burger. It's Afghanistan... and we're the fucking Taliban."

The scavengers prepared to open fire on the driver, but the group of pirates soon found themselves shot at first; the bullets flying into their bodies coming from all directions of the car. Within an instant, every enemy was downed in a haze of gunfire, shot dead in seconds.

Opening the door to his car, now full of bullet holes, the driver stepped out. Setting one robotic leg down, his skin-free face, covered with but a piece of plastic, made his first appearance to the outside world since his arrival in this dimension. Cracking his neck, he looked out into Hellwood, keeping his task on one simple mission:

Find his counterpart, Lars Rodriguez, and get his face back.

"Hey, bro. I do have your good luck for surviving anything." Larsen Rodriguez said.

One last stake in this final battle rested with in the hands of President Milius Arcudi, thinking over how to save face over his recent blunder at his desk at the White House. Surrounded by him were various aides and cabinet members, all patiently awaiting an answer for what to do next.

"Sir? Mr. President? It's your call." One aide said.

Resting his head into his hands, President Arcudi gave out one final sigh, gaining the strength needed for the final option.

"Alright. We'll solve this problem once and for all. Order a nuclear strike. Destroy Hillwood." The President said.