David hit the ground in front of the terrorists. They'd come over the border, engaging the PRT and police in El Paso. He was carrying strength, invulnerability, and flight. Merlin touched down by him, looking slightly bored.

PR. David disliked it. Even with his lessened, or formerly lessened powers, a group like this was beneath him.

But it was in the sight of the people, which allowed them to see that the Protectorate had things under control, and showing off the newest member, was equally important. He swept forward, smashing the vehicle with a tinkertech laser on it, spinning around almost as fast as Lexi could, smashing the brute who had been leading the attack.

Pulling his punch just enough to not kill the man. He could recover on his way to prison or the Birdcage.

The villain's sidekicks, a pair of women wearing masks, vests, and shorts were casting fire and ice at Merlin—but the energy was spattering uselessly on a shield. Merlin shook his head and made another gesture. Suddenly the two women were held in a glowing dome of energy.

"If you wish to freeze or burn yourselves, be my guest," Merlin said. Then he contracted the dome so that they were pressed up against each other, their angry squawks rising over the battlefield.

With that, the fight was more or less over.

Some wasted time with the news media and David was in the air again, his communicator telling him of another issue—some kind of tinkertech botanical disaster.

"I generally budget about 8 hours for sleep and paperwork," he told Merlin. "The rest is in the field. We regularly stop potential class S disasters before they get a chance to become known…"

"I see," Merlin said. A few minutes later, and they were at the next spot, a greenhouse that was enshrouded in writhing plants. A police officer waved them down.

"Eidolon!" he said, eyes wide. "I'm happy you're here. We've got a problem, no two ways about it—"

"I'm sorry!" a masked teenage girl in a flower-patterned suit came up. "I was trying to make something new and it went wrong and I don't—"

"That's fine," David said. The earbud fed him information. "Greenthumb, right? You have the ability to manipulate flowers." Moments later, he continued. "I saw your exhibit on the news. Quite pretty."

He'd done no such thing, but there was a benefit in having the PRT feeding you information and it was a good way to calm parahumans down.

"Yes, but I was trying something, and the pollen started spraying into the air, and everyone started getting sick…"

"It's allergic reactions, sir, nobody's dead, but the hospital's full up and the plants keep putting it out. If the wind shifts…"

"I understand." David frowned, looked for a power… Yes. He dropped strength and felt another power slot in.

"Merlin, can you shield the greenhouse?" Eidolon asked.

Merlin nodded and raised his hands, and the greenhouse was encompassed in a glowing tube of energy, open at the top.

Perfect. David flew up to the top and then released the energy he'd been holding.

There was a twisting sense… and everything organic inside the tube fell apart…

Explosively. The white-hot flames shot out of the top of the tube, but David nodded. Below, the very ground, to a depth of fifty feet, was nothing but vitrified glass.

Back down, he quickly consulted with the police officer and paramedics about coordinating with the PRT. He might have been able to find the power to cure everyone, but there was already another issue. But…

"I'm going to go to the Birdcage?" The teenager asked, wringing her hands.

"No." David raised his voice for the benefit of the cameras. "Parahuman powers can sometimes have unexpected side effects. The fact that you've used your power responsibly proves that this was an unfortunate accident. However, the Wards might be able to help you, perhaps by providing training and support." He held out a card, and she took it like a drowning woman.

Darcy Brown, age 16. Of course he knew about her. Very few parahumans were actually as secret with their real identities as they thought, especially teens, even those few the Protectorate didn't know about, Cauldron did. She'd call the PRT and before tonight, they'd be offering to bring her into the Wards and smooth over any possible financial liability her parents were facing.

And then they were off again.

It wasn't until evening that David took time for a brief break. He'd had to pull in a mover power once, mainly because Merlin couldn't teleport as effectively as Shadowdancer had, but it had been worth it, dealing with a major spill of toxic chemicals. Merlin's power was an excellent complement to his power, the flexible magic able to come up with just the right balance of powers, even if they weren't always as openly powerful as David's.

"And here we are," Merlin said, looking over the side of the skyscraper. Below them, New York gleamed.

"I like this city," David said. He handed Merlin a cup from the thermos he'd taken with him, and poured himself a cup of tea. "Behemoth came, but we rebuilt it… unlike New Orleans." The failure burned.

"You must be very proud," Merlin said. "Was it worth risking your life and sanity?" The wizard sipped his drink.

"We told you about my situation."

"Yes. But you were not facing death, not like Rebecca. You could have live—"

"A useless life," David said. How does he get under everyone's skin like this? "I've done more for people than the old David ever could."

"Enough?"

"Never." David sighed. "In the beginning… I didn't hurt. I could do things… One of my first missions was an ocean liner that was sinking, some tinkertech extortion attempt gone wrong. I swept down and sealed the hull, captured the tinker, brought everyone to shore. It was easy. But then my powers started to fade. Manton betrayed us, the Endbringers appeared…" He shook his head. "I've dedicated my life—my legacy to heroism and sometimes I feel just as helpless as I did in that wheelchair…" Reading the polite note from the military that they were sorry, but why would you ever believe someone as useless as yourself could ever be a part of something bigger. Please stay in your room and die.

"Do you think that's a wrong goal?" he asked the wizard.

"No, but it is futile," Merlin said. "I read of a man much like you, and he was praised. A warrior, priest, beloved husband…"

"What was his name?"

"No idea. That part of his tomb was effaced by time. He was buried in the shadows of the pyramids, or rather, before the pyramids were built, and by the time I was there… Well, the Gods may endure, but the works of man don't. The parts of the tomb that described his life didn't include his name." Merlin looked down. "Your legacy will last… when you die, presuming our hopes are achieved, there will be great ceremonies, and an eternal flame will be lit before your tomb… and it will stay lit. For a year, a decade, a century, but your memory? The first generation will remember you, the second by tales, and by the tenth generation, only those historians who fall in love with the past will know you—or rather, know what the books say about you."

"You think I'm in this for praise?" David asked, incensed. "You think so little—"

"You're human, aren't you?" Merlin looked at him. "You hated being useless—no, feeling useless. Looking to all around you and seeing the gentle looks of pity…" The wizard tilted his head. "Those burned worse than anything didn't they? Mocking laughter, anger, someone callously pushing you out of the way, nothing compared to someone you called friend whispering to their friends to not. Make. You. Feel. Bad. Unless you claim to be a saint, of course, you were thinking of the praise—it doesn't make you any less of a hero."

David's power roiled and he forced it down. "And have you ever felt helpless? I wonder if you've ever felt it—"

"Oh, I have." Merlin paused. "It was in Europe. I was building a new kingdom. The youngest son of the old king, Grayson the Golden. He was only a few years older than Jim, blond hair, a brave warrior, peacemaker… A good man." Merlin paused. "He would undo the damage his father had done."

"What happened?" David asked.

"The Black Death happened. In the summer the plague rolled into the kingdom…" Merlin sighed. "At the risk of revealing my failings, at the time I knew little about bacterial infections. It would be centuries before quite ordinary mortals showed mankind how to defeat that Horseman." Merlin closed his eyes. "In a week there were deaths, in a month, it spread through the kingdom. A house would be quarantined on Monday and by Sunday, the entire village was deserted save for the dead and dying. Parents abandoned their children and children left their dying parents."

"And the prince?"

"I didn't understand the plague, but there was magic I could use to protect him—which I did. I felt something could be salvaged… And that was when I found the Golden Prince, laying in front of altar of the chapel, the chamber choked with the bodies of his family. He'd slit his throat. He left me a letter, telling me that were he to go to hell, it was only merited for his failure as a prince. If he were to go to heaven, he might beg for intercession, or at least understand what terrible sin his people had committed to merit such punishment." Merlin shook his head. "And so I left, riding through the silent streets, through the open gates where the dead guardsmen bore their last watch and past the pits where the bodies had been cast while there were still enough living to do the work. I became a hermit for about four decades after that." Merlin chuckled, a humorless sound. "And today, none save myself know the name of the kingdom. A few centuries later, I happened to pass through the region again. There was naught but a forest where once the fair maidens had cheered the knights as they marched to war in their shining armor."

"And what should I take from that?"

"That I wasted four decades sulking about the injustice that I wasn't God?" Merlin paused. "All the fear you had about your power declining proved to be fruitless—Fair Claire was able to rectify that. Worry about your legacy? As I said, one day it will be forgotten and in the short term, it will take care of itself. Plan for the future… But look to the present. The young lady who you kept from murdering her neighborhood by accident may not loom large in the history books, but it will certainly loom large in her life. Be satisfied with that."

"You sound different than when you are talking to Jim and Claire."

"Of course. The last thing you need in a student is to cultivate an attitude of unquestioning obedience. I could play the comforting mentor until they wouldn't think to doubt a single thing I said. I want them to think, and making a teen think is akin to Sisyphus successfully completing his task." Merlin glanced down as David's com made a strident sound. "And on that note?"

"A tinker is threatening Pittsburgh with… An atomic robot. The radiation is keeping the local Protectorate team away." David shook his head. "Well, up for some more jobs?"

"Of course. After all… however useless punching things is in the greater scope, I won't deny it does have a certain relaxing appeal…"