"This is what you wanted!"
"Still having fun?!"
"ANSWER ME!"
I watched the TV screen with rapt attention, the bowl of popcorn in my arms all but forgotten as a bloodied Invincible repeatedly headbutted Conquest into the ground.
This fight was everything I had imagined it would be, and more, and easily one of my favorite fight scenes from the comics.
Jeffrey Dean Morgan voiced the character perfectly, and paired with the performance Steven Yeun continued to deliver, this episode felt like peak fiction.
I had started rewatching Season Three to prepare for the upcoming Fourth Season that I planned to start tomorrow, and it reminded me why this was my favorite show.
Finally, after nearly twenty seconds of continuous headbutting, Conquest went limp. I leaned back, letting out a breath as I took in the scene before clapping lightly in the quiet of my room.
It was rare that I got moments like this at the group home, quiet and uninterrupted. Even rarer that I was allowed to watch something this gruesome around little kids. I was one of the oldest there, having turned seventeen a few months ago.
This was sort of a reward from the matrons for helping out as much as I did with the younger kids. I helped with homework, played outside with them to burn off energy, and in return they got me a Prime Video subscription so I could watch my favorite comic on screen.
From a young age, superheroes had been my escape. Ever since my mom passed from cancer when I was seven, leaving me without anyone to look after me.
Usually it would've been Marvel or DC, and while I had read some of their stuff, it was the Invincible comics that really caught my attention. Partly because they were cheaper than the bigger brands.
Though I was pretty sure if the matrons knew how violent they were, they would've thought twice before buying them for me.
The episode ended a few moments later, and I shut off the TV before getting ready for bed. I paused slightly when I thought I smelled something burning, but when I looked toward the open window and the streetlit roads of Manhattan, I brushed it off as someone smoking nearby or maybe a homeless man starting a fire.
If only I had known that wasn't the case.
A little over an hour later, I was violently woken from my sleep by the sound of my door breaking apart, black smoke pouring into the room.
I heard screams and shouts of fear, mixed with crying, as I shot up from my bed, not even bothering to put on a shirt or shoes before rushing into the hall.
Fire had already spread through the group home, flames covering most of the hallway. Sirens rang out from the streets below, along with the shouts of firefighters and the frantic voices of children and matrons outside.
Support beams were already starting to collapse, and I was about to head for the exit when I heard the cries of two children still inside.
I didn't think, I just ran.
Ignoring the heat against my skin, I rushed down the hall and burst through a half-burnt door that gave way easily.
There, in the corner near their bed, were two of the younger kids, huddled together, coughing, their bodies covered in soot and smoke.
"T-Teddy!" one of them cried as they both ran toward me.
"I've got you, it's okay, I've got you," I said quickly, crouching down and pulling them close.
I scooped them up, struggling only slightly with their weight. Normally, I probably wouldn't have been able to carry both, but adrenaline pushed me forward.
I rushed back into the hallway, but a beam collapsed in front of us, blocking the way as embers scattered onto my skin.
I grit my teeth and turned back toward my room, heading for the window that led to the fire escape.
Kicking the door open, I set the kids down long enough to open the window. "Go, go!"
They climbed out quickly onto the fire escape, coughing as they took in fresh air.
I was about to follow when I heard more cries from deeper inside the building.
I paused, looking down at myself. My skin was covered in burns and soot, my pajama pants singed, and my bare feet blistered.
But I didn't feel it.
And I wasn't leaving anyone behind.
So I turned and ran back into the fire.
The building creaked around me as I pushed deeper inside, following the sounds of crying.
I found another pair, both no older than five, and carried them out the same way before going back again.
Over and over, I ran through the halls, helping as many as I could onto the fire escape.
At some point, I remembered a movie I had watched a few years ago with Andrew Garfield, another one I probably shouldn't have seen at fourteen.
As I set another little girl on the fire escape, I muttered under my breath, "God… if you're listening… let me get one more."
Almost immediately, a scream came from deeper in the building.
I ran toward it without hesitation.
Dodging a falling beam, I burst into the room and found a little boy hiding in his closet, shaking and crying.
"Hey, come on, bud," I said, crouching down. "We've gotta go."
He nodded weakly and curled into my arms as I picked him up and ran.
Just in time as the ceiling had collapsed behind us moments later.
With each step, the building felt closer to giving out completely.
I turned down the hallway toward my room and stopped briefly at the sight of several burning beams blocking the way.
There was no other option.
I pushed forward, dodging and weaving through them on instinct alone before making it back into my room.
I managed to get the boy onto the fire escape—
—just before the building finally gave way.
The roof collapsed.
Everything came crashing down.
I tried to move, to push the debris off me, but it was too much. Too heavy.
Deep down, I knew I wasn't getting out.
But thinking about the kids I saved, I couldn't help but feel it was worth it.
My life hadn't been the best, but others had it worse. Maybe this wasn't the worst way to go.
As darkness started to take over, I thought about the heroes I had always looked up to.
Superman, who always tried to do good.
Spider-Man, who never gave up.
Even Invincible, who kept fighting no matter what.
Maybe… I'd be remembered like them.
Yeah…
I was okay with that.