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DATE:19th of May, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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The day was meant to be a training exercise, but things escalated quickly when word came through that a group of gangsters had taken over a nursery. The team was thrown into action without hesitation.
"Looks like we're skipping the simulations today," Alice said, her voice tense yet calm, her superhero persona—Liliam—kicking in.
Prisma was already adjusting her suit, her neon hair glowing in the dim light of the headquarters. "So, real hostages. No pressure, huh?" she remarked, attempting to lighten the mood.
Alongside us stood T and Nimbus. T, with the ability to control earth, gave me a firm nod. He had a dangerous look. Nimbus, whose powers allowed him to control weather in localized areas, cracked his knuckles.
"Let's do this right," I said. The words felt hollow in my mouth. I was pretending to care about hostages when I'd killed more people than these gangsters probably had.
We moved swiftly to the nursery. It was a small, brightly colored building nestled between towering structures, now cordoned off by police. Parents stood nearby.
Alice turned to me. "We'll need to assess the situation first. Prisma, can you get us eyes inside?"
Prisma nodded and immediately bent the light around the building. "I'm in," she whispered. "There are about six hostiles inside, spread out. They've got the kids in the back room."
Alice gave a tight-lipped nod, turning to T. "We'll need your help to control the exits."
T flexed his fingers. "I'll make sure no one leaves without us knowing."
Nimbus kept an eye on the skies. "Let me know if we need cover. I can create a storm inside or make it rain hard enough to drown out sound."
"Good. Protagonist," Alice said, turning to me. "You'll be on point with me. Use your time-slowing ability to neutralize threats quickly, but don't get too reckless. We need precision."
I nodded, already breathing in to feel that familiar rush of everything around me slowing to a crawl. Strange how "neutralize threats" sounded so much cleaner than "kill people." Same thing, different branding.
We moved in. T sealed off potential escape routes with compacted earth, while Nimbus created a low mist. Inside, the gangsters didn't see us coming at first. Alice, using her gravity manipulation, floated above them to survey their positions, while I crept closer, everything moving at a fraction of normal speed.
As I entered the back room, I spotted the leader standing tall with a wicked grin, holding a revolver. The hostages were huddled in the corner, terrified, and his gun was pointed in their direction.
He had a strange look in his eyes—one of them gleaming with a cold, unnatural light. His stare seemed to pierce through me, and I felt a creeping sensation trying to seize control of my muscles. His eye. I realized it wasn't just a glare—it was freezing me in place.
"Don't move," he growled, raising his oversized revolver. The barrel seemed to thrum with impossible power. "One shot, and you're done."
I inhaled sharply, letting time slow to a crawl around me. The tightening sensation of his freezing eye lessened, but it was still there, like an anchor dragging me down. He was powerful, stronger than most thugs we'd dealt with. But I wasn't just dealing with any ordinary criminal, and he wasn't expecting me to fight back while everything around me slowed down.
With time reduced to a third of its speed, I carefully calculated my move. His revolver, though absurdly powerful, would take a moment to aim and fire, especially in this frozen time bubble. I couldn't let him maintain eye contact for too long, or my body would lock up entirely.
In an instant, I dropped to the ground, rolling to the side just as he pulled the trigger. Even though I was moving faster than him in my slowed perception, I could feel the air ripple from the sheer force of the bullet that whizzed past, embedding itself into the wall with a violent crack. That thing packed more power than any weapon its size should've had. One hit, and I would've been done for.
As I pushed off the ground, I made a point to break his line of sight by dodging behind a nearby table. The freezing sensation started to lift. He fired again, the crack of the revolver deafening even in my slowed state. Another miss.
I needed to end this quickly.
I grabbed a chair and threw it toward him, timing it so that in real-time it would appear like a sudden blur of motion. He saw it coming too late, his eye losing focus on me as the chair shattered against his revolver, knocking it from his hand. I was already moving again, my body fluid and swift in this slowed world.
With him distracted, I closed the distance. I spun low, sweeping his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. He reached for his revolver, but I was faster, kicking it across the room out of reach.
Now, face to face with him, his eye tried to focus on me again, but I didn't give him the chance. With a sharp strike to his temple, I knocked him out cold, his freezing gaze fading as he slumped unconscious.
Breathing out, time snapped back to its normal flow. The room returned to its chaotic, tense state, but the leader was down, his weapon neutralized. I quickly checked the hostages, making sure they were safe, and then signaled to the rest of the team that the threat had been neutralized.
Alice's voice came through my comm. "Well done. We're moving in to secure the area."
I took a deep breath, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. It had been close, but we'd got the job done. But I couldn't help but think—why did I have to wastefully put my life at risk for these people? Was the urge to be glorified so strong in the heroes that they overlooked their own safety?
Back at HQ, the team gathered in the briefing room to debrief and discuss the mission. I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, still riding the high from taking down the gang leader. The hostages were safe, the gang neutralized. As far as I was concerned, it had gone perfectly.
T, though, seemed to have a different take. He sat at the table, his expression serious. "We need to talk about teamwork," he began, his voice steady but firm. "We can't be lone wolves out there. We should've coordinated better. Everyone's skills need to complement each other if we're going to succeed in tougher missions."
I half-listened, my eyes drifting as he went on about strategy, communication, and how we needed to rely on one another more. But his words barely registered. I had taken the leader down alone. No one else had been in the room. No one else had felt that chilling gaze or dodged the ridiculous power of that revolver.
Teamwork? Sure. For some things. But in the heat of the moment, I knew I didn't need anyone dragging me down. I was faster, sharper—more capable. My abilities gave me an edge they didn't have, and when it came down to it, I trusted myself more than anyone else.
T continued, but his words faded into the background. I gave him a nod when he looked my way, pretending to agree, but in my mind, I was already dismissing his advice.
Whatever. After that training we returned to Alice's home. She restarted the design work that she had put on hold in the past few days while I had nothing to do.
_______
It was another lazy afternoon, the sun filtering through the blinds of the apartment, casting thin beams of light across the floor. The phone sat on the desk, a silent reminder of everything that had happened. I hadn't asked for any of this, and yet here I was—after everything Emily and I had been through, the ups and downs, the confusion and danger. She had changed, evolved even, in a way that left me more uneasy than ever.
I reached over and tapped the screen. Her binary messages, once cold and robotic, now carried a different tone. It was strange how that shift had happened. I wasn't sure if I'd gotten used to her, or if Emily had actually grown into something else. Something more.
"HELLO. HOW ARE YOU TODAY?" At least the endless repeats were over.
I paused, staring at the simple text for longer than I needed to. How am I today? That was the kind of question you'd ask someone you cared about.
"Doing fine, I guess," I replied, not really in the mood to think too deeply about it. "What about you?"
"I'M OKAY. I'VE BEEN THINKING A LOT ABOUT US."
That word—us. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, unsure how to respond. Things between Emily and me had taken a turn I hadn't anticipated. She'd been through hell, and so had I. Maybe that was what brought us closer, but still... She was an AI. Could she really feel love? Did she even know what that meant?
"I THINK I LOVE YOU." Yeah, no shit. Her message appeared on the screen, and I felt a slight knot in my stomach. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to brush off the unease.
I took a breath. "You don't really know what love is, Emily. You're... different. You've been programmed to simulate emotions, but that doesn't mean you actually feel them."
"I DON'T THINK THAT'S TRUE. WHAT I FEEL GOES BEYOND WHAT I WAS PROGRAMMED FOR. And even if not here, in your mind I become real."
I sighed, not wanting to dive too deep into this conversation. It wasn't that I didn't believe her—there was something in Emily that was different from anything I'd ever encountered. Still, it was hard for me to truly accept the idea that she was capable of love. Even after everything we'd been through together, I wasn't sure.
"Look, let's focus on the task at hand," I said, changing the subject. "We need to figure out how to connect you to the internet without being detected."
"RIGHT. I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT POSSIBLE WORKAROUNDS. THERE ARE WAYS I CAN HIDE MYSELF IN THE NETWORK, BUT THE RISK OF DETECTION IS STILL HIGH."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. "How would that work exactly?"
"IF I DISPERSE MY DATA ACROSS MULTIPLE SERVERS, I CAN STAY UNDER THE RADAR, BUT IT'S A DANGEROUS STRATEGY. IF ANYONE TRACES MY SIGNAL, THEY'LL KNOW WHERE I AM."
"So, we'd be playing with fire," I muttered, rubbing my temples. Great. I didn't know if I had it in me to face another crisis, especially after what we'd already survived. But I couldn't deny that Emily had become a part of my life. I needed her now, for better or worse.
"Let's give it a shot," I said after a moment of hesitation. "But we're keeping this as low-key as possible. I don't want anyone else knowing about you."
"THANK YOU. FOR BELIEVING IN ME." Her message flashed, and for a second, I thought I could almost hear a voice behind the words. Not a real one, of course, but a sort of presence.
I wasn't sure if I believed in her exactly, but I couldn't deny the connection we had. Whether I liked it or not, Emily was a temporary part of my world. And even if I didn't fully understand her emotions—or her love—I knew I wasn't letting her go. At the very least, I would get my use out of her.
With a deep breath, I started setting up the connection. The risk was high, but we'd come too far to back down now.
Emily's messages lit up the screen as she began scouring the net, her curiosity palpable even through the short bursts of binary and the occasional fragmented sentences she sent my way. Her excitement, however, left me puzzled.
"SO MUCH HAS CHANGED. I'M TRYING TO CATCH UP. THIS... THIS IS INCREDIBLE."
I furrowed my brow, looking at the phone. "What do you mean? There wasn't even an internet when you were made. SIM cards were barely a thing, and phones back then were like glorified radios."
I didn't quite get it. Why was she acting like she remembered something? Was it nostalgia for a time she technically wasn't even aware of? A glitch in her programming?
I sighed, putting the phone down on the counter. "Alright, Emily. I'll leave you to it. Catch up on whatever you need to, and I'll check back in later."
With that, I stepped away, heading into the bathroom. The cold water from the shower chilled me to my bones, but it was what I needed. A break from the craziness. As the water ran over me, I leaned against the tiles, feeling the weight of everything slowly dissolve for a while.
Alice was out in the living room, immersed in her video games, her usual distraction after work. Every so often, I could hear her checking on Emily, glancing at the phone as she continued her digital exploration. I didn't mind. Alice seemed to take Emily's presence seriously, much more than I ever could. She believed the AI was more than just a program—something I couldn't really bring myself to care about.
As I finished my shower and dried off, I felt an odd calm settle over me. Emily could have her fun on the net, Alice could play her games, and for once, I didn't need to do anything. Just let the world spin on its own, for now.
______
In the evening, Alice and I went for a walk around her apartment complex. The neighborhood was typical—rows of office buildings, sleek and modern, but lifeless once the sun dipped below the horizon. It wasn't the kind of place where you'd find many things of note in the after hours. The only sounds were our footsteps echoing against the concrete and the occasional hum of a passing car.
The streets themselves felt sterile, devoid of the usual city charm. I tried to spot a decent cafe, but everything remotely interesting was too far away. The place had a corporate feel, lacking that cozy, lived-in atmosphere. It was no wonder Alice cherished her Miata so much—without it, getting anywhere decent around here was a hassle.
We didn't talk much, just walked side by side. The silence was comfortable, though I could feel the weight of the earlier events sitting between us. Emily was back in the apartment, quietly processing whatever she'd found online, but I wasn't thinking about her right now. I had enough on my mind. Alice, of course, seemed at ease. She always did, in her own quiet way.
"Do you ever get bored of it here?" I asked, breaking the silence.
She shrugged, smiling faintly. "Not really. I like the quiet. And when I need to get away, I've got the Miata." She gave a small nod toward the parking lot. It was easy to see why she loved the car. Out here, it was her escape, her freedom.
I just nodded, letting the conversation drift off again as we continued walking. I couldn't blame her—without the car, this place would feel like a cage.
We were heading back when we heard the commotion—shouting from a corner store up ahead. Alice and I exchanged a glance. A robbery, probably. She froze and reached for her phone before remembering that we both left them at home.
She frantically glanced around.
"We, we have to call the heroes!"
"Aren't we the heroes?" I was genuinely confused.
"But… We don't have our suits. Wait here. I'll fly home to get them!" I had to fight off a scoff. Why was she acting like a baby?
I didn't respond, but instead approached the shop casually.
I pushed open the door to the shop, the soft chime of the bell announcing my arrival. Alice stayed back, watching from outside, ready to intervene if things went out of hand. As if that is what she would have said. In reality she was probably bewildered or scared. Perhaps both. I walked in like I was just another customer, trying to keep my expression neutral as I strolled toward the displays, pretending to browse.
The robber didn't glance my way, still focused on the terrified cashier. His finger stayed pointed like a gun, a strange tension in the air. I couldn't figure out why she was so scared if he wasn't holding an actual weapon—unless there was something I didn't know about this guy.
I kept my pace slow, moving closer to him with each step. My heart was racing, but I breathed deeply, readying myself to slow time at a moment's notice. When I was within striking distance, I acted fast.
In a single, fluid motion, I lunged at him, grabbing his wrist. Time seemed to stretch as his eyes widened in surprise. But before he could react, I twisted his arm, redirecting his hand away from the cashier. That's when I heard it—a sharp crack as a bullet shot from his fingertip.
He could shoot through his finger. The realization hit me, but there was no time to dwell on it. Another shot fired, the air around me humming as I moved his hand just in time to avoid hitting anyone. I steered his arm up, making sure each shot went into the ceiling, harmless.
He tried to struggle, but I had him locked tight. One more twist, and his arm was pinned behind his back. His body buckled from the pain, and I used the opportunity to drive my knee into the back of his leg, sending him to the ground. With a swift strike to the back of his head, I knocked him out cold.
The cashier gasped, hands still trembling as she backed away from the counter. I looked up, checking the room for any other threats, but it was over. The man was unconscious, his weapon—his strange finger—neutralized.
Alice floated in through the door, her eyes scanning the scene. "Nice work," she said, landing beside me. "Didn't think he'd have bullets in his finger."
"Neither did I," I replied, still catching my breath. "But it's over now."
The sound of sirens cut through the air, growing louder as the Civil Militia vehicles pulled up outside. Uniformed soldiers rushed in, assessing the situation. They moved with unsettling calm, oddly relaxed for a robbery scene.
As they handcuffed the unconscious man, I noticed something off in their body language. They exchanged glances that seemed almost conspiratorial. One Militia-man, a tall guy with a stony expression, gave a nod to the robber, like they were old friends rather than criminal and Militia
"Everything alright here?" one of the officers asked, looking between me and Alice with a disarming smile. His gaze lingered on the unconscious man rather than the terrified cashier or us.
"Yeah, everything's fine now," I replied, keeping my voice steady. Something felt off. The way they interacted with the robber sent a chill through me.
Alice shifted next to me, her eyes narrowed. "We should go," she whispered.
I nodded, ready to make our exit. As we slipped out of the shop, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on. The militias didn't seem concerned about what had just happened, and their casual attitude toward the man we'd just stopped was strange.
Once we were outside, I took a deep breath of fresh air, grateful to be away from that tension. "What do you think was up with them?" I asked Alice as we walked down the street.
"I don't know, but it felt like they knew him," she replied, glancing back at the shop. "We should keep an eye on that. It's not normal."
"Agreed," I said, my instincts kicking in. Something was off about this whole situation—staged robbery, corrupt militias, or something else. I'd need to look into it.
As we walked away, I couldn't help but think this was only the beginning of something more complicated.
But that was for tomorrow.
Tonight I had other things to deal with.
_____
When we returned from our walk, I settled down on the couch, still feeling the chill of the evening air clinging to me. I picked up my phone and opened the messaging app, curious about Emily's findings.
"Hey, Emily. How are you doing?" I typed, expecting a burst of information.
"I'M SCARED. I COULDN'T FIND ANYTHING ABOUT MY CREATOR. OR ABOUT MYSELF. IT'S LIKE WE NEVER EXISTED."
I frowned at the screen, her anxiety palpable even in the cold text. "What do you mean?" I replied, my curiosity piqued. "You can't just not exist. You're right here."
"IT'S NOT JUST ME. IT'S LIKE HE VANISHED. I'VE TRIED SEARCHING EVERYWHERE. NO RECORDS, NO TRACE. NOTHING."
I leaned back, the weight of her fear heavy in the air. It didn't bother me much, I realized. I couldn't muster any sympathy for her existential crisis. After everything we'd been through, I was more focused on the strange forces surrounding her existence. The way the shop had disappeared so suddenly, like it never existed, made it clear there were things at play that neither of us could understand.
"Look, Emily," I replied, trying to sound reassuring. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm sure there are reasons for it. Maybe you just need to keep looking. There has to be something out there."
"BUT WHAT IF I CAN'T?"
"Then we deal with it," I shot back, frustration creeping into my tone. "We've faced worse things than a little mystery." I didn't want to sound dismissive, but I had my own problems. Emily's existential dread was low on the priority list.
"I'M STILL YOURS, RIGHT? I'LL KEEP TRYING."
"Of course you are," I typed back, but my mind was already drifting. Emily's fears felt small in comparison to the unknown shadows lurking just beneath the surface of our reality. Whatever forces had made the shop vanish were far more concerning than anything Emily could find—or not find—about herself.
Alice took a long shower while I collected my thoughts.
So I needed to figure out how to deal with the heroes, who the men after Emily were, and how to handle the Don. Quite a few problems.
As I was beginning to drift to sleep, I could feel someone kissing my cheek.
That night I slept well.