Episode 2: It Always Happens
January 1, 2012 :: 12:45am :: A fast-food chain, New York City, NY, USA
I feel a sudden jolt of electricity, a vision flashes before my eyes, or rather, is implanted in my mind. I'm watching the earth safely from the vacuum of space as the cries of millions ring out at once, weaving and intertwining into a melody. The earth itself glows and flashes brightly and blindingly. It is as if the planet is morphing into a sun. It flashes brighter and brighter with intensity i have never fathomed light could produce. Pulsating, penetrating, impossible light. Then, it explodes, sending whole continents across the galaxy, pushing neighboring Venus and Mars out of orbit, smithing the moon into microscopic pieces; bread crumbs on the table cloth of te universe. Everything that is, that was, that ever could be, shoots across the stars in every direction. Every sound rings out in every corner, the planet itself is crying before silence finally falls. An infinite silence. The explosion is so scalar and surreal and graphic that when I come to, sliding across a stone floor with Monica following behind me, I vomit.
The scene of snow and blood, crimson and white, is completely gone, repainted with glass windows and stone columns and old canvases. The city streets adorned with festive banners, littered with celebratory confetti, are no longer what surround me. Instead, as I lift myself up by my hands still weak from frostbite, coughing forcefully, I am surrounded by people hiding in the shadows of a candlelit room.
There are Claire and Peter from before. Claire is sitting alone on a small loveseat, her legs crossed, but her leg kicking impatiently. She hops from her seat upon laying her eyes on me. Peter is standing next to a wirey, butterscotch-skinned man in a white lab coat I know to be Dr. Suresh. Across from them, lining a staircase, Ando speaks with Noah Bennet. They only break their dialogue to trap me in their eyes with powerful intensity.
It is Hiro however, usually docile and endearing, who reacts with the greatest hostility, grabbing me by the coat collar and lifting me to my feet.
"Why'd you call us all here? You weren't supposed to be there."
Monica comes to my rescue, pushing him off of me and putting herself between us.
"It's okay. Hes a friend." I tell her.
"Some friend." She doesn't let her guard down.
"He knows what happens if we intervene in events that we weren't part of the first time," Peter explains to Monica. "Things we can't reverse."
"I had a good reason," I attack, but my words have the opposite intended affect, causing uproar in the room.
"He's bound to get us all killed," one voice cries. "His actions could have months of repercussions!" booms another. "We'll end up just like Tracy if he keeps this up," warns a third.
"Now, now, now," Ando hushes the audience, snapping his fingers producing sparks of red lightning from his fingertips, temporarily lighting up the dark room while putting the dim candles to shame.
"He hasn't let us down before. Let's at least hear him out before we throw him under the bus," Bennet, craftier and more cunning with his words, finishes for Ando.
All eyes are on me. I hate that sort of thing. I prefer not to be the focal point in the room, the center of attention. I prefer to be the guy in the crowd, blending into everyone else. Nameless and unnoticed.
Despite my stage-fright, I proceed eagerly. "I have something I think you should see."
"We've seen enough of the future by now to know that this always happens," Hiro says calmly. "You know as well as I do what could have happened. What do you have to say for yourself?
I stammer, "I-I..." then rephrase, "Well, I think..." Hiro backs away, waving his hand to the others, issuing them an order to leave while I take a moment to collect and organize my thoughts. "What if I told you we could do something about it this time? What if I told you we could save the world?"
Hiro stops dead in his tracks, while a few others turn their heads and focus again on me. Their expressions aren't the kind I hope for; their faces aren't painted with honest intrigue and earnest enthusiasm. Most seem shocked and angry. Most seem tired. Of me. Of my hope to change what happens. My need.
Hiro's hand reaches up and behind, quivering over the handle of his sword, but he relapses. His hand falling to his side, he faces me again. His face is beet red and his eyes bulge to exponential proportions. Both are no sight compared to the deep vein pulsating in his forehead, ready to break open his skull.
I'd better choose my next words wisely, I think, but all I can muster up is a feeble "We can change it."
"It keeps happening. Claire keeps falling. We go back to save her so that none if it ever happens and it just happens again. Same person, different place, different time. The event is on a loop."
"And Isaac's paintings were part of the loop! They stopped coming true!"
"What's your point?"
"I thought you'd like to know this came true today," I take the edition of 9th Wonders from my pocket, revealing the Saint Joan edition.
I open to page 42 and hand the comic to Hiro while Ando and Bennet gather around him. Taking a thin pair of silver eyeglasses from his cloak pocket and pushing them onto his nose with his index finger, he scans the page.
"Impossible," he says after a while skeptically. "You were at Time Square? You probably just made these things happen." He doesn't even turn the page before shoving the book back in my arms.
"Some of us have lives to get back to and families to say goodbye to before the war begins," he throws at me coldly. "You too should be spending time with yours before it's too late. So stop wasting our time."
A few of the onlookers grumble and spit curses under their breath. This time Bennet gives the order to leave and the others cooperate without second thought, heading out the door.
Hiro stops, grabbing Ando, and offers a tip of advice. "The war always happens and no one can prevent it. Not me, not Isaac and not you, Micah."
"You're right. I can't do it. Not alone."
"Well, then. If you must play these games, use your people and leave us out of it. You lead Libertad, Rebel, or did you forget?". With that Hiro and Ando disappear.
I cannot believe how everyone else has acted about this. Skeptical; cruel and pessimistic and without the slightest ounce of faith.
"I hate skeptics. What are we living for really? What are we living for if we have no faith that we can change everything?"
Monica pulls me close, into a tight hug, her head resting on my shoulder. I'm as tall as she is now. I've grown from the scrawny, broken boy she met five years ago trying to hold on to pieces of his mother and father, into a scrawny, broken seventeen-year-old trying to save the world.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
"Your friends all seem so set on all of this happening. So, why are you trying so hard to change it?" Monica looks deep into my eyes.
I shrug. I don't know how to respond. "I just wanted to be a hero," I lie.
"You don't need to be a hero for anyone."
I issue her a blank smile but all I can think of is saving everyone. Monica is the last bit of family I have, and we've grown close over the years. And it's just as Hiro said. It always happens.
"You're right," I lie again. "Let's just go home."
But she's wrong. It always happens. She always dies. Always on the first day of the war. I know I have to save her. Time's running out. I only have 9 days.
I vow to myself that this time I save Monica, then, save the world.
Whatever it takes.