Hey, world! I've got another story up here!

This post for 9/11. We must never forget!

Nathan Drake belongs to Sony Interactive Entertainment and Naughty Dog.

But what are you staring for? Just read!

Soy Vinny Lee Marzera.

You know the drill. The tech kid. The wild one with all the crazy ideas. The VLADJI with all the random stuff. The amazing Marzera.

But I'm also kinda struggling. See, I have a gender crisis. I can't figure out my own gender, what it should be. Shouldn't be so hard, should it? But some people don't always pick up on dolencia. Or they misinterpret it, because they're idiotas. So here I am – with a demon in my head and a fight to get it out.

I'm also the one fighting the idiocy off. Not just in my head, mind you. All around me. It's present in my hometown, Philadelphia. It's present pretty much anywhere in this country that's run by idiotas. And I'm the one who has to stop it. Lucky me.

Fortunately, I'm not alone in my fight. I have amigos who are helping me out.

I'll just start it when we met at the OriSus. That's what we call the intersection between Orianna Street and Susquehanna Avenue where we rendezvous for school. And by we, I usually mean me and mi amigos in VLADJI, although one or two avatars sometimes drop in to chat.

This turned out to be one of those occasions.

I ran up to my part of the intersection and whistled – the Morse code signal for VL, my part of the collective VLADJI whistle signal we used when we met up on our way to Fairview High School, our current destination. I waited until I heard the rest of it – the single short-long A of Amos, the longer series of blasts associated with DJ, our leader and mi cara amiga, followed by the loud, curt double-short blast of Imira.

Then the others came out at the ends of the sidewalk they were at, and we started up our race to Fairview High. It's sort of a ritual for us – VLADJI, or Virtuous Lived Adolescents Dealing Justice Impartially – to run the route most would take a bus to. Just another way of separating us from the rabble. Not to mention, great exercise for us.

"So, what do you guys think this time?" I asked as we ran along. Sí, I'm the kind of person who'd start up a conversation while racing with her compadres. I'm weird like that. "Ramesses or Thutmose?"

We were presently debating the two most famous Egyptian pharaohs in history class. If I'm being honest, we probably paid more attention in that class than anything else, especially if we could find something in that class – a stratagem or a teaching – we could actually use. I paid the most attention in math and science, though, mainly because there was something about learning chemical structures that appealed to me. Perhaps being amigos with Tails?

"Kind of a stupid question, don't you think?" DJ asked as she bolted. Of course, since she'd taken track once upon a time, she was well ahead of us – and her form was flawless. Her blond ponytail, usually laid over her shoulder, flew out behind her as she raced up the street. Her blue eyes sparkled with determination. Even in spite of her leotard and skirt combo – which she'd paired with a sweater for school (the dress code would not have allowed it otherwise), along with her necklace and the Forcecuff (she kept her accessories to a minimum) – she was still gaining headway in the street.

I didn't think too much about that. She had had more practice, after all.

I tried a different subject, as that debate had amounted to the same thing all week. (Spoiler alert: It was never Thutmose.) "What do you think she'll be talking about this time?"

"I'd rather not think about it," Amos replied, going at a fairly brisk clip just in front of me. Again, that wasn't a bother. Amos was taller than I was, albeit not by much, and an actual guy, whereas I was presently male gender, but naturally female. That biological advantage never truly goes away.

You wouldn't have missed Amos, even if you tried. He always dressed in rosa, which got him quite a bit of teasing at school, but I didn't mind it. That was his preference, as amarillo y azul was mine. His attire was pretty casual by comparison – magenta shirt, maroon pants, and pink sneakers – and he kept the accessories to a low, like DJ. Just his belt – which was composed of the pale canvas belt with an extra leather strap looped in – and the David's star necklace he'd been endowed with when we were commissioned.

"Are the babes trying to predict Alyssa Hardcastle's next lecture?" Imira Fadjir asked us teasingly. She called me and Amos babes because we were the youngest VLADJIs. It's a thing. At least she's forthright. She was well ahead of both me and Amos, but just next to DJ. With her form, I wasn't surprised.

Imira was taller than the rest of us, with a muscular build to match. She paired this with incredibly simplistic attire – blue long-sleeved shirt with red sleeves, red sweatpants, and red sneakers. Oh, and her red hijab. Can't forget that. All she needed was a hoodie and she could be mistaken for any number of toughs around here.

DJ suddenly held up her hand. We'd all come to respect DJ, one way or another, for her knack for picking up on oddities and for her common sense. It became clear what was stopping us: the sign for the crosswalk had the orange hand up. Traffic was moving in front of us – and at a snail's pace, too. Just a normal morning in Philly.

We all stopped – not very smoothly, I'm afraid. I heard, "Sheesh! Watch the 'jab, Fadjir!" from Amos as Imira's hijab nearly flew into his face.

"Sorry," Imira muttered, adjusting the folds of her veil. I found it more likely that she was just embarrassed about her hijab flying in a guy's face than actually conceding to Amos. (The guy annoyed her to no end.)

"I'd be more concerned about Taichov," Amos replied, resuming the old conversation and referring to our science lab teacher. He was not wrong. You never knew what Ivan Taichov was going to spring on you – a study of plate tectonics via cornstarch with water and some paper plates, or how lye reacted to water. One thing was certain, though: the uncertainty.

I loved that.

"Taichov?"

I nearly yelped at the voice. "Nate! ¡Amigo!"

"Sorry," Nathan Drake responded, not sounding very sorry at all. He approached behind us – his human form plain as always, with his pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. His attire was that of an adventurer – white collared shirt (half tucked in the back, of course), cargo pants, combat boots. The rifle slung over his back – not something you saw on a standard pedestrian – was probably the only real tip-off to the fact that he was something other than human. His dog, Stryker, was beside him (on a leash) as usual. I swear, he'd take Stryker to church if someone didn't stop him.

"What's going on?" I inquired. Just a casual way of greeting anyone, human or avatar. And, in the case of avatars, opening up about their adventures. Stuck in school, we didn't really have many of those. It would really bring an exciting spice to our trip. Besides, we had quite a bit of time before we really had to be at school.

"Not much," Nate replied. Stryker barked in agreement.

If by not much he meant everything's peaceful, good. VLADJI didn't need anything else to deal with en route to school.

He then leaned against the pole and his eyes glowed a whitish color. I recalled his power was Oculus, the ability of supersight. He could pinpoint anything – as long as it was within his track range – even seeing through walls. I'd never seen it in action, though.

"What are you doing?" Imira inquired.

"Just checking traffic up ahead," Nate responded.

I didn't ask him why. The guy had spawned in New Jersey, after all. I reckoned he'd heard all the jokes, too.

"So, what's the deal with Taichov?" Nate asked next. Being a fellow multitasker, I had to respect the guy's ability to hold a conversation while scanning the streets up ahead. "Why are you so worried about him?"

"You have no idea," DJ replied. "The guy spits out lab assignments like they're lava from a volcano. 'Oh, here's a crab for us to dissect!' 'I need a check on landscaping!' That sort of stuff."

"Sounds like our training." I wasn't sure how Nate could be cool about that. Then again, he was an avatar. I was not.

"It's a science lab," Amos retorted. "It's not supposed to be random in any –"

Nate suddenly jerked his head, tearing his eyes – no longer glowing – away from the sidewalk. There was an alarmed look on his face. I'd spent enough time with him – and gotten acquainted enough with his power – to know what that meant.

"What's wrong up there?" I asked.

"Vortex's undies," Nate cursed. At least, I hoped it was a swear and not what he'd seen a hundred feet down the road. "Um, you guys know Fairview?"

"We're on our way there," I replied. "¿Por qué?"

"You might want to find an alternate entrance."

No bueno. If that was an avatar talking, you had to listen. They were much more aware than any human, as their senses were better. All six of them. I got the sense Nate was trying to warn us.

Instead of elaborating, he took off, with Stryker behind him.

"Uh, that was weird," I observed. Story of my life.

We continued on our way. We probably shouldn't have.

I heard some uneasy murmuring as we approached the school. I guess I should mention – Fairview High School camps out in a chapel school we'd gotten from the Iglesia Evangelica el Refugio (say that name five times fast). It also served as something a little more on the grounds of alternate schooling – a hybrid of homeschool co-op and private school. Every parent is involved in Fairview's decisions, and a lot of the parents of the students here were conservative leaning. So it was a little more patriotic than most public schools.

Something seemed to have changed about the landscape, though. And not in a good way. As we got closer to the school, the murmuring got clearer:

"Idiots! Who put that up?"

"Phillips should do something about that –"

"What the blue blazes do they think we are, political figureheads?"

And so much worse than that.

"That can't be good," Imira muttered. "What is –" Then she blanched and clenched her fists in rage. "Oh, Nar no."

¿Que? I glanced up at the flag outside.

And immediately wished I hadn't. Suddenly Nate's warning made sense – too much sense.

Normally the flagpole would sport just the American flag. That was the rule with Fairview. Nothing more than Old Glory, hard on. Any other flags would distract from the school's purpose, which was to provide its students with the patriotic education they deserved.

Apparently someone didn't appreciate that rule.

The flag was still up there, yes. But just below it was a flag I had come to loathe after it had tricked me into a state that I was trying my darndest to escape.

The rainbow flag of Pride.

Woof. Talk about trouble. Someone's going to get it.

Verse for the update: Proverbs 3:5-6. Please review! No flames! And stay tuned!