November 23, 2317
Clara glared at the world as it passed by the window of her father's car. She despised everyone she saw, going about their everyday, boring lives with their everyday, boring problems. In a sense, she supposed her loathing was misdirected. Afterall she should've been happy; her time at home had finally come to an end, and, by the skin of her teeth, she'd survived a grueling few days back in her father's clutches. She'd earned her freedom until school got out in seven months.
However, one look at Garrett's smug smirk in the rearview mirror whenever he looked back to check on her was enough to make her jaw clench hard enough to crack. "We'll be at the campus shortly. Just in time too, you've still got around an hour and a half before you're supposed to report for patrols. Although, it would have been sooner if you hadn't phoned in your training this morning."
Clara flipped him off and went back to staring out the window. 'Phoned it in my ass,' she thought. While it had taken her down to the wire, she'd been able to land a single hit on her father just in time to save herself from being called back home over Christmas vacation. 'I'm going to have to work on my precision between now and summer. Fuck him and his training, If I want to get better than him, I'll have to work twenty times harder. Like hell I'm gonna let him get away with kicking my ass anymore.' A thoughtful hum from Garrett pulled her attention back from the window and she noticed him studying her in the mirror. "Fuck do you want?"
"Oh nothing important. Your wounds and bruises have finally disappeared. That's good, leads to less questions when you get back to classes. Though, knowing you, you are the type to be stupid enough to hurt yourself while training." Clara's hand shot up to the barely noticeable injection spot on her neck and she scowled.
Garrett Grondin
Quirk: Injector
Garrett is able to recreate any liquid he ingests and then produce it through the needle-like retractable spikes in his palms. By mixing and matching ingredients he can create his own devious cocktails.
Deciding it would be much less exhausting to just ignore his comment, Clara pulled out her cellphone and opened up the news app. 'Not like I have any friends to text or social media to update. Still, reading tabloid nonsense about which celebrities are sleeping together is better than acknowledging him,' she rationalized, scrolling aimlessly, her mind not really comprehending anything she saw. It did have its intended effect though, as Garrett made no further attempt at conversation.
She scrolled past articles about Pro Heroes' supposed relationships, speculation about the upcoming Ranking showcase, a story about the upcoming "Life of a Pro" reality television series, and rolled her eyes. 'God, these idiots are giving us a bad name. I swear if any of these fucking people approach me when I go pro, I'm blowing out their fucking eardrums.' She angrily swiped the story away, but then her scrolling stopped. With narrowed eyes, Clara clicked on the article that had caught her attention to see if it was just nonsense, or if it was actually real. As she read, her heart rate spiked.
Breaking News: Council Under Siege!
Hero Councilman and real estate mogul, Dino Patel, was found dead inside his Greensburg home yesterday afternoon. Initial reports indicate that he was found in the foyer with extensive injuries. First aid was administered by paramedics, but their attempts to resuscitate were unsuccessful. Patel becomes the third member of the council to be murdered in as many weeks (following Nelia Derrick and Benita Dailey), raising questions as to whether or not security around such important figures to the Hero Association should be heightened. While the Association has been understandably tight-lipped about their ongoing investigation, word from our insiders is that all three victims share the same type of injuries, causing concerns of a serial killer to rise.
Clara read through the short paragraph several times before her brain could process it. 'Why the hell haven't I heard about this? Is no one at school talking about this or am I just that disconnected? Who the hell has the balls to go after councilors, they're some of the more powerful people in our government.' Reluctantly, she leaned forward and shoved her phone in front of Garrett's face, making the man swear and nearly sideswipe a passing bus. "Hey, dickhead. You know anything about the councilors getting killed?" Clara barked
"Of course, I know about that. Why, what of it?" Garrett snapped, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. Clara silently reveled in his irritation, despite her concern. 'Have a taste of your own medicine, fuckbag.'
"They're saying it's a serial killer. You or Dad have any info on that?" Garrett gave her a look of absolute loathing through the mirror before scoffing.
"First off, why would I tell you? What do you expect to gain by getting such information? Second, even if I did know anything, I still wouldn't tell you. A case like this isn't handled by normal Heroes. It's handled by Internal Hero Affairs. If there's anything other than what's currently known, they are the reason it's not getting out," Garret explained angrily. Clara frowned and leaned back into her seat. 'What the fuck is Internal Hero Affairs? I've never heard of them.' Reading the look on her face, Garrett growled, "IHA is an arm of the Hero Association that does exactly as its name suggests. They handle internal issues within the Association."
"Then why the hell would they keep this silent? Wouldn't more eyes and ears lead to finding the killer quicker?"
"No. If the public knew too much it would only lead to hysteria and bog down their investigation with false leads. Haven't they taught you anything? They don't want a repeat of the Battle of Las Vegas by rushing in without a plan. Now, please, get the fuck out of my car." Clara blinked, confused. She hadn't even realized they'd come to a stop. 'With fucking pleasure,' she thought, grabbing her backpack and throwing open her door. She didn't bother to say anything else before she slammed the door shut as hard as she could, making the window crack and eliciting a muffled "Hey!" from Garrett.
As she approached the main gate to the Forge's campus, Clara felt the stiffness in her shoulders beginning to eb away and her breathing became much smoother. She was pretty sure she even smiled at the twin groundskeepers (creepy as they were) as she passed them. 'Finally free from that oppressive house and Garrett's bullshit. Now I get to go out and potentially bust some heads? What a damn great day.'
However, as was usually the case, a roadblock popped up to ruin her good mood; in this case, said roadblock took the form of a very familiar snapping noise that she'd come to recognize as a precursor to unpleasantness.
He was sitting beneath a large tree with a ball of fire floating lazily over his palm. As she watched, the ball split and became several smaller orbs, each floating in asymmetrical patterns above his head. Lyon smiled up at his creations before snapping his fingers again, creating another dozen of the smaller orbs. He closed his eyes and appeared to be concentrating, then let out a breath as Clara's gaze snapped back to the floating balls of fire, each of which had sprouted a set of small insect-like wings.
Clara snorted. "Fireflies? Really, Flame Idiot?" Lyon's concentration broke at the sound of her voice and he scowled as his creations fell apart, raining miniature embers down on his head. For a brief instant, Clara saw legitimate frustration on his face, but when he turned to face her, it was gone. Swallowed by his ever-present smile.
"Ah, I was wondering if you would make it back before patrols began." Clara scoffed at him, almost regretting speaking as he hopped to his feet and stretched his arms up over his head. Lyon sighed and looked down at his flint-like fingers, which were ever-so-slightly orange and glowing from heat. "Yes I thought that would happen," he mumbled to himself. "To answer your question, yes fireflies. It helps, in my case, to personify my flames when I'm using them for such precise maneuvers."
"What the hell kinda 'precise maneuvers' are you doing? As far as I've seen it, your Quirk works best when controlling a large amount of fire. These little fucks don't seem to fit your MO," Clara pointed out, only to grimace and internally scold herself. 'Why the hell are you talking to this smiling moron?'
"Well, considering I have elected to stay in the Search and Rescue path instead of switching to the Combat one, I figured I should work on a technique that could come in handy. As such, my fireflies." He snapped once and created a small spark which, after a moment of concentration and its form wobbling dangerously, sprouted wings and began to 'fly' around his head. "These are a super-concentrated ball of fire that I can control remotely. While I cannot 'see' through them per se, I am able to sense, for lack of a better word, their surroundings. I plan to use them as a beacon of sorts in the field."
"I dunno, they look pretty wimpy." Lyon shrugged as he watched his creation waver in the air before flapping its wings and propelling itself towards Clara. Considering its lazy approach, Clara didn't make any attempt to move out of its way when the 'firefly' came within just feet of her. Then, it imploded, causing her to take a step back at the intensity of the heat produced by the tiny orb. "The fuck?"
"I did say it was super-concentrated. Don't get it confused with a 'cheap party trick', as they say." Clara growled at him, poking at her nose to make sure it wasn't burnt, though Lyon's eyes were fixed on the still burning ball of fire hanging loosely in the air. "It has its combat effectiveness, of course, but the main purpose of this technique is to give those lost in the darkness a light to follow."
"Holy hell, I knew you were corny before, but that's the worst thing I've ever heard," Clara snapped, turning on her heel and beginning to march away. It didn't surprise her to hear his footsteps following close behind. 'Why did I stop? That has to be one of the dumbest decisions I've made lately.'. Her annoyance only rose when he fell into step beside her, several of his 'fireflies' drifting above his head.
"Yes, but doesn't our society seem to have a need for corny things? For example, what is the point for Pro Heroes to have names for their attacks? I've never understood why. Wouldn't it be much more beneficial for your enemy to not know what is coming?"
"It's for brand recognition, douchebag. Love it or hate it, Pro Heroes are celebrities and their salaries are bolstered by public donations, interviews, commercials, or even fuckin' action figures. The more you appeal to the masses, the better off you'll be in the current system. Keep this shit up and you'll be a superstar, they eat nonsensical crap like this up," Clara barked, gesturing angrily at his fireflies. 'Been that way a long time if even Vasily's old man was naming attacks. Even dad does it.'
As a child, she'd been awed whenever she saw a Seismos poster or figure on a store shelf, unable to fully comprehend that that person was one and the same with the man who made her life a living hell; nowadays she just felt disgusted at the sight of them. "Hero life ain't like any other job. It's a competitive sport, and if your image isn't good enough you get relegated to a sidekick for life."
Lyon hummed thoughtfully and waved his hand, dispelling the half-dozen fireflies above his head. 'So you can get rid of them without blowing them up, eh asshole?' His gait slowed just enough that he fell behind her. "I see. I still don't get it, but if that's the way the world is, then who am I to rebel against it." Clara rolled her eyes. 'Why am I not surprised you take this in stride you weird fuck.' She looked over and saw the thoughtful expression on her classmate's face morph into his usual grin. "Let's see… Dance of the Fireflies. That's catchy enough, I would say. It seems like something the hero of a story would yell while charging into battle. Not to mention, one of the primary descriptors in literature for fire is how it appears to dance, so it ties in nicely."
"Good for you. If Hero work doesn't play out, you could be a fucking ballerina. Now, fuck off." She picked up her pace, trying to reach the Girls Dorm before he could infuriate her anymore. Unfortunately, she'd only made it three-quarters of the way across the campus by that point. Still plenty of time for Lyon to get under her skin.
To her surprise, however, his footsteps all but stopped. 'Good. Maybe the idiot is learning to take a hint,' she thought, keeping her eyes forward and not slowing her pace. She'd nearly made it to the front doors of the Girls Dorm when curiosity got the better of her and she glanced back over her shoulder. Lyon stood exactly where she'd heard him stop, a contemplative look on his face as he stared across the grounds. Following his gaze, Clara saw an unmistakable yellow hazmat suit trudging down towards the riverside. 'Oh yeah. Toxic girl's his partner. Good fucking luck, Flame Idiot.'
Purpose of a Hero
Still annoyed from her brief interaction with Kazani and the scorpion girl, Clara marched into the gymnasium without a moment to spare. It had taken her a bit longer than usual to get into her costume. It had been damaged pretty badly during the tournament and, much to her chagrin, the Forge's Support location had been swamped with requests, so hers had been on the back burner. She'd had to wear normal workout clothes for both of the practical lessons they'd done in the three weeks since.
'Fucking asshats made it too thin on my arms. Jacket barely fits.' She'd have left her jacket behind entirely if it wouldn't have left her in nothing but an armored brassiere, which she was one hundred percent sure Holl wouldn't allow. She did have to make a concession and tie her bandana around her neck, instead of holding back her hair like it used to. 'At the very least, I could use it to cover my face if a fight breaks out,' she thought.
"Uh, Clara?" Clara was startled out of her thoughts by a sudden voice behind her. She whirled around, ready to chew out whoever had spoken, but stopped when she saw her "mentor" fidgeting nervously under her glare. 'This fucking guy. How the hell is he one of our Top Three? He comes face to face with a villain, he'll piss his pants and run away.' Hector, still looking a bit off-put, sighed and held up a manila folder. "I've already been given our assignment. Shall we review it?"
"Fuck that. Where are we going and whose ass do I get to kick?" She asked, grinning wildly. Hector signed and jerked his head to the side, motioning for her to follow, before beginning to walk towards the back exit of the gym, where a flight of buses was supposed to be waiting to take them to their starting points. Ignoring her proclamation, he opened the folder and began scanning over the document detailing their set route for the night. Unable to reign in her curiosity once again, Clara leaned over and began trying to read over his shoulder.
"Most other pairs have been put into teams of two or three. However, those of us who are ranked at the top three spots in our class have been given special permission to venture out with only our mentees," Hector explained, sounding slightly exasperated as Clara scoffed. 'Thank god. I can only carry one person's shoddy performance anyway, let alone three or five,' she thought with a grin. "Additionally, our route tonight will take us through an Orange Zone, so we will have to be on our guard even more so than before."
"Seriously? Who the hell did you bribe to get us an Orange?" Clara cackled. She'd been a bit peeved when they'd explained the students would only be sent into the second lowest tier Yellow Zones. Orange Zones were usually reserved for Sidekicks or lower-ranked Pro Heroes, though the upper-ranks did sometimes cut through them on their patrols. 'At this rate, we'll be tackling Red and White Zones by the time we graduate,' she thought to herself with glee.
"One of the perks of being in the Top Three is getting our provisional licenses before our senior year, which affords us a bit more freedom and trust. Now, since we didn't prepare at all over the last few weeks, we will have to discuss tactics and contingencies during the ride. Orange Zones are dangerous, so we will have to be prepared for anything," Hector said, seeming slightly perturbed by the malicious grin on Clara's face. The girl scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Look, I've got a lot of pent-up aggression and need to blow off some steam, so if we run into any Villains or petty crooks you let me do the ass-kicking while you fuck off and play with your bees. Sounds good? Great!" Clara turned away as Hector hung his head in exasperation. She watched as the first bus full of students departed, sneering as she made out Blackwood's hand hanging out the window, flipping her off. 'See if I don't tell your brother you've been sneaking around again, bitch.'
"We are not to engage any criminals unless given no other choice, Clara. Your teacher should have told you this. Any attempt to do so would not only get you in serious trouble, probably enough to have you suspended from patrols but also make things very awkward for me, as it's my duty to look after and teach you." Clara rolled her eyes and stubbornly refused to turn around and face him. 'Fucking hell, he sounds like Halloway.'
"I don't need anyone looking after me, asshole. Try to get in my way and I'll stomp you into the dirt," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. Hector frowned, trying to keep his pheromones calm, lest the Queen fly over and sting Clara – which would probably only escalate the situation. 'I should have asked Mr. Holl for someone like Payton to be my partner if he was taking requests into consideration,' he lamented. Hector racked his brain for anything else he could say but his mind drew a blank. 'This is going to be a disaster. I'll just have to let her think she's taking point. It will tire them out, but my scouts can do all of the heavy lifting for what we actually need to do.'
The next bus arrived far too quickly for his liking. However, in perhaps the only good turn of luck he'd had that evening, as he and Clara lined up, they were joined by an exhausted-looking Rune. "Hey, Hec. It's Clara, right?"
"You're Holl's kid."
"That didn't sound like a question," Rune muttered sardonically, slinging an arm over Hector's shoulders to hold himself up. Clara sneered at him, before turning back around and stepping onto the bus, causing Rune to let out a low whistle as he and Hector followed. "She's pleasant. You gonna be able to deal with this all night?"
"I'll have to manage," Hector replied, relieved that he had a friendly face to sit with on the bus – he highly doubted Clara would sit anywhere near him. Rune guffawed and plopped down into the first available seat, directly behind the bus driver. Once they were both seated and the bus was underway, Hector glanced around to find his prediction had turned out to be false. Clara sat in the seat right behind them, glaring out the window and trying to ignore the attempts at conversation Lyon was making from the row across from her.
"You pumped? First time we get to do patrols outside of our internships. Black Lance is a great Hero, but man is he annoying to deal with. Dude has total mother duck tendencies," Rune said with a sigh. Hector chuckled; he'd heard his friend complain many times about his choice of agency to intern at, yet he almost always went back to the Knight Hero. "You still sticking with Pallet this summer?"
"Of course. Her leadership has been nothing but beneficial for me so far. Honestly, I might try to become one of her sidekicks once we graduate as well."
"That'd be fun. You'd have to deal with the added stress of being associated with the Number Nine," Rune shot back teasingly. Hector shook his head and turned to look back at his partner, only to nearly jump out of his skin as he found her watching the two of them suspiciously. Rune, having noticed his almost minute reaction, grinned and leaned back over the seat. "How about you, freshie? Decided on who you'll reach out to for your first internship? Spring break will be here before you know it."
For a second, Hector thought she'd ignore him complaining, but she continued to surprise him by scoffing and replying, "I'm not applying for any weak shit or the Number Three. Any other Top Ten is my target," Clara said in a clipped tone. If Rune noticed her specification, he didn't comment, instead humming thoughtfully.
"Top Ten, eh? That's tricky. They are notoriously picky about who they take on, especially with freshmen. Not a big enough sample size to know what they're working with or what potential they have, y'know. I think Hector was the only one to get a request from a Ten in our freshman year." Hector scowled at his friend, trying to ignore the incredulous look his partner gave him.
For his part, Rune just shrugged and kept talking. "Agencies have to opt in to get a Hero Class student anyway and most of the higher-ranked offices don't. Aeroblast, Seismos, and Ezikiel I know for a fact never take any interns. Star Bright, Pallet, and Crusader almost always opt-in, but the others are pretty hit or miss. You really gotta catch their eye most years."
"Then how did Hive Boy here get an internship with Pallet?" Hector was surprised that her tone wasn't completely accusatory and instead there was genuine curiosity slipping through. Rune shot him a smile, which made Hector groan and slump down in his seat.
"Don't tell the story."
"Oh I'm telling the story," Rune replied, putting his hand over Hector's mouth to prevent any interruption, not that he had much to worry about. Hector was resigned to his fate and instead pulled out the manila folder with their assignment, hoping to tune out his friend by re-reading their patrol route and guidelines. It didn't work. "So Hero Agencies, before they take you in, get sent your grades and practical exam tapes, but usually the Halloween Festival is the prime event to get noticed. That's why freshmen almost never get into larger agencies, because they've only been training for a few months by that point. Hector, however, had spent his first few months at school in the greenhouses, not talking to anyone and just souping up his bees with all sorts of poisons and stuff."
"I talked to people," Hector – after prying Rune's hand away from his mouth – corrected, peeved at his friend, who again ignored him.
"Anyway, apparently despite all the training he did before enrolling, this new environment and all sorts of new supplements for his bees caused his pheromone control to waver and made them reproduce at a massive rate. By the day of the tournament, they were completely covering his skin and he had a two foot thick haze around him there were so many!" Out of the corner of his eye, Hector noticed that Rune's animated storytelling had caught the attention of practically the entire bus, many of whom looked from his friend's wild grin and spirited hand gestures to Hector himself. 'Always has to be the center of attention. How did I end up with two of these extroverted morons as my best friends?' he thought, scowling at Rune as he sank deeper into his seat. "Needless to say, he swept the competition by overwhelming numbers alone. Even I couldn't do much against the Swarm. That caught the eye of Pallet and he's still working with her agency to this day."
"So he didn't actually do much, huh? It was all his bees doing the heavy lifting," Clara said dismissively, at once losing the intrigue she'd briefly displayed. Rune looked ready to jump to his defense, but Hector shook his head quickly.
"She isn't wrong. While I command the bees using my pheromone manipulation, they end up doing most of the heavy lifting. Not to mention that while my Swarm was that large for the tournament, once that generation died prematurely it took months to build back up to my normal levels. The Queen and I agreed to never allow it to get that out of control again," he explained. He remembered the weeks of depression the Queen had suffered following the loss of their swarm. It was the first, and thankfully only, time he'd had to bring in bees born outside of his body since the first generation burrowed into him.
"Why not? Afraid people won't wanna be near you even more if you've got a coat made of bees?" Clara responded sardonically. She didn't notice Rune bristling as she continued, "Who the hell would intentionally kneecap themselves like that? If you had enough power that even the Pros took notice, you're an idiot for squandering it."
"Here we go," Rune murmured, grinning at the thunderous look on Hector's face.
"I 'kneecap' myself because I can't stand the suffering that allowing my Swarm to get out of control brings. Not only did thousands of my bees die due to my inattentiveness, but my body suffered disastrous side effects due to its dependency on them and the nutrients they produce. Several generations of bees suffered from diseases and defects that affected my performance throughout my freshman and sophomore years. I could never imagine being so cruel as to put my swarm through that again." Clara could only watch, slightly dumbstruck by the steel in his voice, as Hector stood, squeezed past Rune, and made his way closer to the back of the bus before taking the open space beside Shaula, who gave him a concerned look.
"You'll come to learn that his bees are kinda his biggest weakness along with his biggest strength. One of the only surefire ways to piss him off is to insult the bees," Rune said, taking full advantage of his now empty seat to stretch out his legs and rest his head against the window, his eyes fluttering shut. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss Hector though, if I were you. He's a pretty shy dude overall, but in any other year, he'd easily be the top student. Just got a bit unlucky he's in it with Dominik and me."
"Bullshit, he said it himself. The bees do all the work. If all you have to do is take him down, you can avoid the bees entirely," Clara rebuffed, though she didn't seem as confrontational as before. Rune, his eyes still closed, shrugged.
"If you think you can get through, I think he keeps his swarm somewhere around six thousand bees these days, then be my guest. With the crazy shit he's mixed into their venom, all it takes is one sting to put most folks down." Clara scowled and turned away from the upperclassman, who took all of five seconds to start snoring once the conversation reached a stalemate. 'So in a straight up fight, I'd probably lose and lose badly. Normal bees tend to stop moving if they hear too loud a noise, but I wouldn't be surprised if he planned for that. Not like a vibration-based attack would do much against a swarm either,' Clara thought, a lightbulb beginning to turn on in her mind that only further infuriated her. 'That's why Holl paired me with him. He's a near perfect counter against my Howl. Even my widest spread attacks can't get through his defenses without putting myself at risk of being stung.'
"Fucker," she grumbled. Rune snorted in his sleep and she found herself glaring at her teacher's nephew with all the disdain she felt for his uncle.
Purpose of a Hero
Once they were finally dropped off, the sun was beginning to set, though the streets of the Bronx were still teeming with life. The vendors and food trucks had long since packed up, but the kids playing in the street were making the most of their limited time left before it got dark; some people walked dogs, others just walked or stood on the sidewalks, talking to their neighbors.
Clara, dressed in her costume, felt remarkably out of place. Ever since they'd gotten off the bus, they'd been subject to stares and pointing, from kids and adults alike, and it was beginning to wear on her. She was certain that the only reason none had approached them yet was because her face was twisted into a warning sneer.
To her bemusement, Hector appeared to take it all in stride, despite his apparent introverted nature. While his mouth and nose were hidden behind the flipped up three-sixty-degree collar, she could make out smile lines around his eyes as bees buzzed around the pair of them. Every once and a while, one would dart off down a sidestreet, only to meet them at the next intersection, communicating with Hector before re-entering the holes on his shoulders or disappearing behind his collar to the ones on his neck.
Eventually, he noticed her discomfort and came to a stop beside a bodega. His voice was hesitant, nearly drowned out by the excited buzzing of his bees, and held no hint of the anger he'd shown on the bus. "You get used to it after a while. We're getting extra looks today because you're new. Even if they remember you from the tournament, it's different seeing Heroes in person than it is on screens."
"You seem to be doing just fine," Clara shot back, though Hector merely shrugged, not bothered by her snappiness.
"Remember, I've been at this longer than you have. Plus, my previous patrols were done with Pallet. Top Tens usually attract much more attention than small-timers or especially students. It… um, might help if you focused on keeping your expression under control," he said, slightly unsure. Immediately, her face lit up in anger and she slugged him in the arm. "I'm not telling you to smile or anything! If you had even a neutral expression, people would be less likely to stare. It's odd for a Hero to look angry like that."
"Not in my experience," she hissed, ignoring the pitying look in Hector's eyes. He signed and began walking again, apparently expecting her to follow.
"Look, I wasn't trying to insult you. When I first started on patrols, I was always shaking like a leaf. Pallet told me to focus on keeping myself calm and stopping the shivers. Giving your mind a task to focus on is a great distraction from nerves," he explained. Clara was about to correct his assumption that she was nervous, but a sudden tug at her sleeve stopped her in her tracks.
She turned her head slowly and found herself looking down at a child, no older than six or seven. He stared up at her in awe for a moment before he opened his mouth and spoke. "Who are you? I haven't gotten your HCG card yet! I also don't have Aeroblast or Ignitor, but my sister has those. Neither of us have you!"
"Uh," Clara replied lamely, turning to look at Hector for instruction. The smile lines were back and he just nodded back at the expectant boy. Clara sucked in a breath, resolving to kick his ass later, and tried her best to put on as neutral an expression as she could. "I'm Elisnore. I'm still a Hero in training, so I doubt I'd have any trading cards yet. Once I do, it's gonna be worth a lot, so make sure you hang on to it."
"I will!" The boy didn't shut up for another few minutes, by that time the facade she'd fabricated was beginning to waver as annoyance crept in. 'I hate kids. They never shut up,' Clara thought as she glanced over at Hector pleadingly. He shook his head and barely suppressed a chuckle, then knelt down to be on the boy's level.
"We've got to get going and I think you might have to be as well, Laine. The streetlights just came on," he said conspiratorially. The little boy's eyes widened and he let out an impressively vulgar curse for someone his age, then turned and ran back towards one of the houses near the end of the street, several bees trailing in his wake. "To make sure he gets home safe," Hector explained.
"Fucking brat wouldn't shut up," Clara said, though she kept her eyes on the retreating boy until he reached his destination. When she turned back to her mentor, she noticed an odd look in his eye as he stared at a bee landing on his finger. Unless she was seeing things, the bee was wobbly and had a small wisp of smoke rising from it. Hector nodded and allowed the bee to re-enter his body before turning to Clara.
"Some of my scouts have been lost, though I can't tell why from just pheromones. Come on," he said, turning on his heel and taking off at a jog. Clara followed closely behind, but paused when they reached an alleyway next to a flowershop and her partner leapt up, grabbing the fire escape's ladder and yanking it down with a crash.
"Are we allowed to just climb up some random building? I'd be pretty pissed if I saw someone outside my window at this time of night," she said, though wasted no time in climbing up after him. Hector shrugged as he began taking the steps two at a time.
"I doubt the inhabitants will mind too much," he replied offhandedly. Clara narrowed her eyes at him, but dutifully followed until they reached the roof after night flights of rickety metal stairs. Much to her chagrin, Hector was much quicker than her at scaling the stairs, and as such, when she arrived at the top he had already made his way to the opposite ledge, overlooking the next street over.
The first thing she noticed was that the air at the top of the building was much warmer than it was on the street level. As she approached her mentor, the temperature continued to rise amd sweat began to run down the side of her face. 'No way this is natural. We'd see flames if there was a fire somewhere, so what the fuck?' she wondered as she crouched beside Hector, who, again, seemed to be communicating with another bee.
"I can only gather so much from my scouts, but this heat is worrying. It's being produced by a person." Clara grinned at this. 'Finally, some asshole is making trouble that we get to destroy. What's a little heat.' As the thought passed through her mind, however, the heat became almost unbearably intense and Hector let out a barely audible gasp. He frowned. "Clara. Seismos is here."
"What," she hissed, marching over and shoving Hector out of her way, ignoring his indignant huff. Sure enough, she caught sight of her father standing in the middle of the intersection across from them. He was alone, dressed in his costume, and even from such a distance Clara could see the tenseness of his shoulders. 'I forgot his agency covered the Bronx. Still doesn't explain the heat, but the last thing I want is for him to spot us. I've had enough of his bullshit for a lifetime.'
She scowled and began to turn away when something else caught her eye. As it turned out, her father wasn't alone. The pair of them watched as a tall woman in a long red dress emerged from one of the side streets, clearly only having eyes for Seismos. It was too far for even Clara to hear what the woman said, but clearly, her father wasn't having any of it if his narrowed eyes and clenched fists were any indication. Out of the corner of her eye, Clara saw Hector straighten and pull his HAND phone out of his jacket pocket. There was fear in his eyes and the buzzing from his body became louder.
"I recognize that woman. She's been at the top of the Hero Association's wanted list for the past eleven years. Lydia Buchanan. Formerly the Magma Hero: Miss Vesuvius."
Purpose of a Hero
Excerpt from the Diary of Vasily Ramirez
December 15, 2287
A woman came to my home today. Thank goodness Sergio and Richard were both out.
I was wary at first, but as she continued to speak, everything began falling into place. This woman's name was Iris, and she brought with her my granddaughter, Cora. She's a very mild-mannered young woman, just a year older than Richard. She plans to become a doctor, to which end I lent her several of the rare medical texts our library has accumulated over the years.
As I said, I was hesitant to believe her story, but the moment I took to study Cora made it clear she was Sergio's child. They have many of the same features, though thankfully hers are much softer. The only thing wrong with her that I could see was her age.
Based on her birthdate, Sergio would have been two months removed from marrying Melissa when she was conceived.
They expressed an interest in meeting Sergio, but I felt myself compelled to warn them against it. I told them a sanitized version of his descent, of course, but it still seemed to hurt Cora that her father was just as unreachable as before. I have given them my number and told them that if they need anything, they shouldn't hesitate to reach out.
It seems like every month my world becomes more and more unraveled. I never thought that the love I saw shared between Melissa and my son would be so easily disproved and I have never been more disappointed.
With apologies to Cora and Iris, I intend to keep their existence from Sergio until the day of my funeral. I'll change my will this week, they deserve something for the fruits of their search and it's the least I can do to make up for my son's sins.
Purpose of a Hero
I'll be honest, I dunno where these long-ass chapters are coming from. Please don't expect them to keep being 6k words, I promise you this will not last. Once again, this chapter was supposed to include much more than it does (it is only barely After Dark afterall), but I felt this was a good stopping point.
I'm not Thalio, I don't really like 10k-word chapters lol.
Anyway, oooooo I bet none of y'all expected the Vesuvius appearance. "But she's Melody's villain" you may be saying to yourself and yeah, I would say that's accurate. This is like Iron Man fighting Red Skull (I don't read the comics so I dunno if that's ever happened, please don't yell at me). What will happen? Tune in next week to find out… Or the week after… Or the next one. Who the fuck knows anymore.
Next Time on the Purpose of a Hero:
Chapter 65: Silence