Four years later

Present day

Johnstown, New York

Three boys walked down the sidewalk in autumnal upstate New York.

They walked on reds, yellows, and oranges, fallen leaves from the constant trees above them. Beige concrete sidewalk peeked out from where footsteps had shoved leave aside, and Otto knew when it was cleared, stained outlines from wet leaves would litter the walkway.

Otto laughed at something his friend said and shook his head, adjusting the backpack slung over his shoulder. He wore a light coat with a solid black sweatshirt on underneath it, a pair of jeans, and sneakers. A brown beanie with a Carhartt logo on it sat on his head, hiding his messy dirty blonde hair.

“Tobe, you are insane if you think Rum won that battle.” He said to the boy beside him. Tobe made an affronted look and shook his head rapidly.

“Otto. Listen to yourself. I’m begging you.” He hunched his shoulders and twisted his face, falling into an impersonation. He grabbed an invisible rifle and started moving down a set of stairs.

“I grab the nose running, I’m coming down with something!” Tobe stood up straight again and shook his head at Otto. “Come on. That’s goat level shit.”

Otto laughed again. “Dude, that’s in the Ill Will battle. He literally starts that bar with “I hear ill in the lobby.” That’s the whole point of the sickness scheme. How are you still arguing this? You haven’t even watched the battle!”

Tobe laughed and bumped him with his shoulder. He was a thin dark skinned boy with glasses who had recently gotten his hair done in Bantu knots, much to Otto and their third friend’s amusement. Unfortunately for both of them, they turned out really, really good. The tips were dyed blonde, but instead of looking like an idiot, he pulled it off effortlessly. Unfair, in both of their opinions.

“Both of you. Please. Shut up.” Their third friend said. He was short, with thick rimmed glasses and a buzzcut over his black hair. He was half Korean half some melting pot that boiled down to ‘white,’ and had no patience for their inane arguments.

“How can you possibly make battle rap sound so nerdy?” He asked, his voice filled with genuine astonishment.

“Shut up, Kim.” Tobe said.

“Yeah, shut up, Kim.” Otto echoed, never leaving an opportunity to gang up on the third friend alone. Lord knows neither of them did when he was the one in the hot seat. “It’s grown men performing combative poetry for other grown men. What about that sounds cool?”

“I’m just saying,” Kim said, holding his hands up in surrender, “Shouldn’t it be cooler than that-“

“Why?” Tobe asked, stopping in the sidewalk. He squinted at Kim and spoke in a low, dangerous tone.

“Because it’s mostly black people? So you think it has to, by default, be ‘cool?’ Because they rap about guns, drugs, and struggling, and you associate all those things with the black community?”

Kim met his eyes flatly. After a few moments, Tobe groaned and looked away, stomping forward.

“You’re no fun. I miss when I could get you with that.”

Otto remembered the first time Tobe had hit him with that guilt, and felt no sympathy that it didn’t work anymore. He nearly had a heart attack; he said it as loud as he could in the middle of lunch!

“Tobe, your favorite battle rapper is A Ward. If anyone is racist here, it’s you.”

Kim grinned while Tobe reeled back like he got slapped, looking to Otto with mock anger.

“Your favorite battle rapper is Loaded Lux. You’re basic, which is even worse than being racist.”

Otto laughed, and their school came into view. They were still a few minutes away from the dull brick building, but he could see student vehicles already pulling in. None of them had their license yet, which meant walking. Even when it snowed.

“You presenting today, Kim?” Tobe asked. He pushed his glasses up and pulled his puffer jacket closer around him while he nodded.

“Unfortunately. I’m not looking forward to it. It’ll be fine, but presenting sucks.”

Tobe grinned and glanced at Otto, who was looking straight ahead.

“You’ll do fine. Look on the bright side! You can’t possibly bomb as hard as Otto did.”

“I didn’t bomb. My presentation was fine.” He said, his lips forming a thin line while the other boys poked at him. Kim shared Tobe’s shit-eating grin.

“Dude,” Kim said, “When Mrs. Graham asked you a question at the end, you ranted about superheroes for like three minutes straight.”

“It wasn’t three minutes!” He protested. “She asked a relevant question, and I gave a relevant, detailed response. She told me after class that she thought it was an insightful opinion!”

“Yeah dude,” Tobe said, “That’s what you say to damaged people so they don’t break down. Or kill you.” He shook his head and sighed. “I mean seriously, you lose both of your parents in one tragic little accident and all of a sudden we’re supposed to treat you like a glass-

Otto pulled his arm back in a punch while he glared at the boy, who wisely didn’t finish the sentence.

Tobe danced out of the way while he laughed, returning to give Otto a side hug while the latter grumbled.

“Calm down there Tyson. We don’t need to give Kingpin an excuse, do we?”

Otto rolled his eyes. “He’ll find one anyway. We both know that.”

“What did you do to piss him off, again?” Kim asked. He was newer to the friend group; he had transferred at the beginning of high school, but Otto and Tobe were close since middle school. He hadn’t been there for everything; he so easily in, sometimes Otto forgot.

Tobe slapped Otto on the back like a proud father.

“He kicked his son’s ass, that’s what.” He said with more joy than when his parents announced they would buy him a – used – car when he got his license.

Kim sputtered. “You kicked Brett’s ass?” he said with disbelief. “When did that happen?”

Otto coughed. “Middle school. It wasn’t even a fight. He threw a punch, I dodged it, and I punched him back and got lucky. It was over in under a minute.”

Tobe looked into the distance, wistfully.

“You should have seen it, Kim.” He said. “It was beautiful. He weaved the punch like Muhammad Ali and delivered the most perfect right hook the world has ever seen. It was the platonic ideal, I’m telling you. That boy’s head snapped back and he didn’t even stumble once before he crashed into the lockers. Out cold. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He pointed at Otto while the boy turned red, beaming with pride to Kim.

“You’re looking at the undisputed heavy, middle, light, and bantam, and whatever else weights there are, champion of Johnstown Middleschool. The goat. Jordan. Gretzky. Woods. They all look up to this guy.” He gave him another hard pat. Otto lightly shoved him away.

“You’re an idiot.” He said, but he couldn’t keep a grin off his face.

The other two started talking about their upcoming presentations, and Otto found himself sinking into a feeling of momentum. He drifted away, his legs and body carrying on like usual while his mind took a much needed rest after the sparse sleep he got the night before. It was comforting; his senses and thoughts dulled, and he didn’t worry about anything. All that mattered was moving one step in front of the other, preserving that momentum.

He didn’t fall into it much, these days. It was only recently that it started happening again after being so frequent in his childhood. It only happened when he was in familiar, comfortable situations, where he could let himself drift into the clouds and he knew nothing bad would happen.

He’d had a long, long stretch where comfort was a luxury he didn’t have access to. Every moment was a battle against whatever his mind decided to bother him with that day, leaving little room for momentum. Recently though, he had fallen back into the habit. He would be lying if he said it wasn’t nice.

“Otto?” Someone asked. He blinked a few times and felt the world come back into focus, finding himself at the doors to school. Other students of various grades were filtering through the doors around him, but he glanced at Kim and Tobe with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah?” He asked. Both of them were looking at him strangely. He looked around through the glass of the front doors and saw a man staring at him from across the crowd.

Standing with a thermos in one hand and a set jaw, Kingpin, the principal of their school stared at him. His back was against the white wall to not get in the way of the sea of students walking to class, but he was taller than nearly everyone. His real name was Mr. Moore, but due to his comically broad shoulders and bald head, he and his friends had started calling him ‘Kingpin’ in reference to the first Spiderverse movie. He wore a black suit with a black tie every day, and the only thing that broke the monochrome was his bushy red beard. He was also Brett’s father.

He did not like Otto.

Mr. Moore took a sip from his thermos and looked away, smiling and nodding to a student walking past. He continued greeting people every now and again, usually ‘at risk’ students who got in trouble frequently and thus had more interaction with him than most. He gave them big smiles and tried joking with them, to limited success.

“Oh.” He said. Kim and Tobe walked up beside him and looked at Kingpin. Kim slowly shook his head.

“The dark lord shows himself.” He said ominously. “You should never have kicked his son’s ass, Otto. Now he’s out for blood.”

“Hurt people hurt people.” Tobe replied with a sagely nod.

Otto sighed. “I don’t get why. I don’t even think Brett hates me anymore. And I hardly ‘kicked his ass’”

For some reason, that statement made Kim and Tobe look at each other and start dying laughing in the middle of the hallway. We’re talking guffaws, hoots, hollers, and more. Kim even wiped a tear from his eye.

“Man,” the boy said while he pushed his glasses back into place. They started walking inside after someone yelled at them to get out of the way. “You get good grades, but you are one dumb motherfucker.”

* * *

Otto sat in the back of class, arms crossed, silently fuming.

He would never admit that he was fuming, but he was. It was plain to see for anyone who knew him, and the reason why was even plainer.

“…that’s why I selected being an EMT as my dream job. Helping people is my number one goal, and I’d love to do it any way I can. It’s a deeply necessary part of our society. My grandmother was an EMT, and following in her footsteps is my dream.” A bubbly girl said at the front of the class. They were doing presentations on their ‘dream jobs’ which seemed a little childish to Otto, if inoffensive. That wasn’t what bothered him: what made his eye metaphorically twitch was what each and every person ended their presentation with.

“Of course,” The girl continued after a moment, pressing the clicker in her hand to change the slide on the smartboard at the front of class. It went from a bulleted list of statistics regarding EMTs to a bright, shining slide with a picture of a woman blocking a car flying through the air from hitting a group of civilians. “My real dream job is getting selected for the contract. The odds are low of course since I don’t come from a family with other Agreed, but it’s always important to have a backup plan, right Mrs. Jenkins?” The girl said. The teacher gave her a smile from the desk she sat at in the front and made a quick note on the sheet of paper in front of her.

The girl wrapped up her presentation and got a complementary round of applause from the class, Otto included. The next student went up, and it was the same story.

A job that they have a real chance at getting first, and then a quick note at the end that being an Agreed would be fun, and their plan for it was this, “just in case.” They framed it as a backup, a “you never know!” that necessitates a plan double the length of the rest of the presentation to explain, but Otto saw it as anything but. Most of their real dreams were getting selected and becoming Agreed, not being EMTs, police officers, accountants, or whatever else they said. Those were the backups, the things that they would settle for after they aged out of the waiting phase.

Once you turned eighteen, you were out of contention for the contract. That always seemed deeply suspicious and worrying to Otto, but most people saw it as a way to get people training with their powers early. He saw it as immensely dangerous, since teenagers generally weren’t the most mentally stable individuals around, and trusting them with awe-inspiring power seemed a recipe for disaster. Given the rate of supervillains going on violent rampages, he felt vindicated in that opinion.

The odds were vastly against them, but everyone clung to that minuscule percentage until the minute they turned eighteen. Where Otto found solace in the fact that it was all but impossible for him to be offered the contract, they refused to believe it was truly over and they had to accept the truth.

He thought it would change when he got into middle school, but it didn’t. Then, he thought surely it wouldn’t be cool to hope for the contract when you’re in high school – especially the deeper in they got – but it never did. Everyone wanted to be picked; it wasn’t talked about as much, but it was always in the background. Jobs were mentioned, but an unsaid “unless…” often followed. “Nearby” people being selected – meaning people in the state of New York who weren’t from the city – stoked their excitement, time and time again.

The bell – which wasn’t actually a bell and was instead a strange beeping noise through the school’s speakers – finally rang, and Otto’s sour mood perked up when he saw who was waiting for him outside.

“Ready to go?” Kim asked beside Tobe when he left the room. He looked at them both strangely.

“Do you guys even go to class? The bell just rang.”

They glanced at each other and burst out laughing. Otto looked around, but he didn’t see anything. Tobe wiped at his eyes and shook his head when he asked, and they started walking.

Their path took them through the hallways, to the gym locker rooms – and past those as well. They went into the gym and out the door that went outside, leading to the football field. Gym was inside today.

“You checked in with Mr. Huckster already, and still had time to wait outside my classroom?” Otto said incredulously. The other two just nodded, sharing another snicker when they glanced at each other.

Mr. Huckster was an old man with an even older mindset, one that said things like: you can graduate from college debt free as long as you work part-time mowing lawns over the summer, lead in paint actually made it better, and most applicable to them, that kids should get a little more freedom in school.

Freedom like, for instance, ebing allowed to walk around in the woods past the football field during study hall as long as they returned before the bell rang.

This was, of course, completely illegal according to school policy, but he did it anyway. The administration were fully aware that he was doing this, hated it, and lived in perpetual fear that a student would end up getting mauled by a bear, leaving them responsible. Somehow, in spite of that, he got away with it anyway.

The current running theories were that he either had enough dirt to blackmail everyone into compliance, or he had worked there so long he literally grew roots and to remove him would collapse the entire Jonestown education system.

Whatever the reason, Otto and his friends as the only Mr. Huckster favored students in their study hall period, were grateful.

Kim was crouched next to a log taking pictures of a beetle he found while Tobe was walking along it, his arms out for balance. Otto was sitting on a stump, his back against another tree. It was two trees – or maybe one? That had grown together, but only one half had been cut down. For some reason. It made a good seat, at least.

“You guys suck.” Tobe said, leaping down from the log. The beetle Kim was photographing flew away and he sent a scowl in his direction.

“It’s for a class.” Kim replied, defensively.

“I didn’t say anything specific. You’re the one drawing conclusions.” Tobe replied. “You subconsciously know that your bug-picture-taking is boring and stupid. That’s sad.”

“Tobe, stop bullying Kim. Kim, stop being boring.” Otto absentmindedly said while he flipped the page. The two looked at each other and then glared at him.

“You’re reading. For fun.” Tobe said. “Do it on your phone at least, so we can’t tell. Or better yet, stop completely. Your brain isn’t rotted enough.”

“He’s right.” Kim said. “Any CTE you suffered from your boxing stint wasn’t nearly enough. You need to come down to our level.”

“I never sparred.” Otto said while he rolled his eyes and kept reading, ignoring them while they amused themselves. They alternated between trying to mess with him and arguing about something inane.

Tobe recoiled from a bug Kim was showing him, glanced at Otto, and whispered something in his ear. The boy shared a glance with him and sidled up to Otto while he read, trying to look casual. He pretended not to notice.

Kim gently placed a beetle with a red dotted shell on the page he was reading while Tobe eagerly looked on from a distance. Otto looked at the bug impassively, picked it up, and placed it on the ground beside him. It scuttered away immediately, not excited to be toyed with by giants.

“I’m not afraid of bugs, Tobe.” He said, flipping the page. The boy scowled from afar, glaring at Otto and Kim both.

“Why am I the only one who doesn’t like bugs? You guys are the weird ones.” He grumbled, shimmying away when Kim approached with a pair of ants and gleeful malice in his heart.

A few minutes later, Otto was distracted from his reading again, just as it was getting good. Some super strong guy with immaculate blonde hair and super senses just showed up and noticed the protagonist, but unfortunately, he scowled and looked up.

[Hello, Otto.] A voice said, androgynous and just loud enough for him to hear. [In 1954, the Jarran government extended an invitation to the civilizations of Earth to enter into their interplanetary alliance system and become an official Outpost, with all the honors, benefits, and responsibilities included. After a brief period of turmoil…]

Usually, the pranks Kim and Tobe pulled were poorly conceived and lighthearted, but this one actually piqued him. He didn’t know how they had service in the woods to play a recording of the Donor’s speech given to each Agreed upon being chosen, but it was annoying.

“Guys, cut it out.” He said, turning back to his book. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t focus; the speech the Donor gave to all Agreed was ringing in his ears, talking about history he already knew. That ‘brief period of unrest’ was a global cold war, with many real wars in the global south, that eventually ended in the major governments of Earth agreeing to the terms of the contract.

[…Chief among these privileges and responsibilities is the Vassal Contract, which consists of…]

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

“Guys!” Otto called out, slamming his book shut in frustration. Kim and Tobe looked at him in surprise. “Cut it out! It wasn’t funny at the start, and now it’s just fucking annoying.”

“Uh,” Kim said, “What are you talking about?”

Otto gestured around them. “That. Turn it off, man. Know when to end the joke.”

Tobe looked around, and then to Otto with genuine concern.

“Otto,” he said slowly, “Are you okay? You need to go to the nurse?”

He furrowed his brow. “What are you…” he trailed off.

No. It couldn’t be. He refused to believe it; the odds were vastly against him – in his favor, he would say, since it was all but impossible for him to be selected for the contract. He had no history of Agreed in his family, and he lived in practically the middle of nowhere. His odds weren’t just small, they were miniscule.

[…The contract may be declined…]

Yes! Otto thought to himself. Decline! Decline immediately!

[…But ultimately, servitude cannot be refused. Declining the contract may result in fewer Jarran summons. However, this is not guaranteed. Accepting the contract may come with further benefits depending on your planet’s contract. However, this is not guaranteed.]

Is anything guaranteed?

[Servitude cannot be refused. Servitude is guaranteed.]

Oh.

Otto felt numb. He had gone white as a sheet, freezing in place while he stared at nothing across the copse of trees. Kim and Tobe noticed, trying to get his attention, but he didn’t hear them. He couldn’t. The only thing ringing in his ears were the final words of the Donor.

[You will receive a random Class according to the Jarran Government’s current projected needs for the next two-hundred and thirty-two Earth years. Your class was submitted for affixation one hundred and eighty-six Earth years prior.]

The Donor itself seemed to take a breath, and it sounded almost pleased when it spoke again.

[Welcome, Otto. Thank you for your service.]

A screen blossomed into being before his very eyes, one he had heard described a million times before. It was like a sheet of glass that he could only barely perceive the edges of, but he didn’t pay attention to that. His eyes were locked on the words in the center. He was holding his breath, and didn’t even realize.

[Servitude Selectee: Otto Schmeling

Rank: A

Class Assigned: Leviathan]

A long recreation of the contract followed that reminded him of a terms of service agreement, complete with excessive length and mind-numbing language. He hesitantly reached out a finger, afraid this was somehow a prank Kim and Tobe were pulling on him, and scrolled.

The words flashed by in a heartbeat, and he read the final few words, maybe the most important of all.

[Otto Schmeling, under authority of the Jarran Government and agreement of the civilizations of Earth, do you willingly accept your service as one of Earth’s Agreed in pursuit of the greater good?]

[Yes/No]

[729h, 59m, 46s Remaining]

The last number ticked down while he stared forward. He was snapped back to reality by a slap across his face. He blinked a few times, but wherever he looked, the screen followed. He swatted his hand like there was an annoying fly, and it vanished from his eyes. Kim looked at him with concern. His ears finally tuned them in.

“Otto? Otto?” He emphasized, shaking him by the shoulders.

“Maybe you should slap him again.” Tobe said. He sounded concerned, not jokingly excited to see his friend suffer. It was a bit foreign in his voice; not out of a lack of compassion, but because…what did they have to worry about?

“It’s okay,” Otto said hurriedly. Kim took a step back after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m fine. No need for another slap.”

“You okay, dude?” Kim asked. His glasses were askew and he hadn’t fixed them yet; that’s how Otto knew he was worried.

He almost said yes. He almost said yeah and brushed it all off, but the word caught in his throat.

He wasn’t okay. He felt like he had after his parents died; he didn’t know if he would be okay ever again.

“I-“ he started, slumping against the tree. It was almost time to go back to class. He had math next. There was a quiz on Trigonometry formulas. Suddenly, it felt so unimportant.

I could walk in, fail the quiz, fail the class, fail my grade…and it would have no impact on my life whatsoever.

“No, I’m not.” He eventually got out. A moment of panic seized him – when he dismissed the screen, had he accidentally accepted? Was that why it disappeared?

He reached out a hand and grabbed nothing, willing it back into existence. Somehow, it was dragged back into view, like pulling a window from another monitor. The only thing that had changed was the timer.

Otto released a breath of relief, and he dismissed it again, focusing on his friends. Kim looked ready to slap him again, and Tobe was about to run and get help.

“Wait!” He said, holding up his hands. “I’m okay. Physically. Mentally…”

Kim paused. “Are you having a panic attack?”

“I don’t think so?” He wasn’t certain what a panic attack felt like, but he didn’t feel panicked, he just felt…numb. He didn’t know how to process what just happened, and his body had just given up on trying.

“So…?” Tobe asked. Otto swallowed hard.

“I…I just got selected by the Donor.” He said.

Silence filled the copse. Kim and Tobe looked ready to laugh or murder him for joking after worrying them so much, but the look on his face made them stop in their places.

With dawning realization, both of their heads snapped to him.

“You’re serious.” Tobe stated in awe. Slowly, a smile spread across his face and he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me? Of everyone to get picked, it was you?” He said incredulously. Laughter overtook him, until he had a hand on his forehead while he cackled out of control.

Kim looked equally shocked, and a smile spread across his face too. “Wow. That’s going to make so many people jealous.” He said, letting out a small laugh himself. He studied Otto’s face and sobered a bit. Tobe noticed and froze in his laughter.

“You don’t even want it, do you?” He said. Otto slowly nodded.

“Can you give it to me?” Tobe said, half-joking. He shook his head in response. The two of them sat down. Kim ran a hand through his hair while Tobe whistled.

“Damn.” Kim said eventually. “It’s the dream of basically everyone in our school, and the Donor picks…the one guy who actively doesn’t want it.” He shook his head.

“I wish I had a cigarette. That’s kinda fucked up.”

Otto almost replied with an automatic ‘you shouldn’t smoke’ but the words didn’t come out. What did it matter if he smoked? Things changed so quickly, why not enjoy the time you had?

You never knew when it might all go wrong.

Tobe nodded slowly. He looked like he was trying to hold in a barrage of questions, but Otto waved for him to go ahead.

“What rank did you get?” he blurted out, a smile spreading across his face. “What class? Are you going to accept? What does it do? When do you go to Babylon? When-” They came out rapid-fire. Kim glared at him, and the rest caught in his throat. He swallowed hard and wiped the smile from his face.

“Sorry. I know you didn’t want it. This must be…a lot. It’s a lot for me, and I’m not even the one who got picked.” There was a small note of envy in his voice, but Otto didn’t mind. Neither were dead-set on becoming Agreed or all that actively interested in it, that was part of the reason he was friends with them both, but neither one were against it. Both just figured their odds were so low it was like hoping they became movie stars.

“I’ve just never met an Agreed, so…”So I have a lot of questions. Was the unspoken finish.

Never met an Agreed. Otto thought to himself. That’s what he was now. He had been selected; he would be an Agreed, whether he wanted to or not.

“It’s okay.” Otto said. He wasn’t sure if it was, but his mind was reeling so much he couldn’t tell. Talking about it felt like a better idea than staying silent and stewing in his own brain, which was cooking up some deeply unappealing scenarios.

I’m going to be forced to abandon my friends and family and live in Babylon. When will I see them next, once I leave?

What if I get summoned when I’m doing something important?

What am I going to tell my grandparents?

The last one hit him hardest, and he immediately started thinking about Tobe’s questions instead. They were much easier to answer.

“I got A.” he said. Kim’s eyebrows raised and Tobe smiled wide. “I don’t know if I’ll accept or not. I don’t want to, but it seems stupid not to. You aren’t even guaranteed to get summoned less. I don’t know when I go to Babylon, but probably soon after I accept or decline. I’ll need to get registered, wont I?”

Kim and Tobe both nodded. All Agreed had to get registered by international law, and not doing so meant in the eyes of many, you were either a supervillain or the next thing closest to it. Otto had heard from some rather anti-superhero forums that it wasn’t always the case, and sometimes people just wanted to live their lives in peace. The Jarrans didn’t care, it was a purely Earth thing. Despite agreeing to the contract and everything it entailed, including giving people powers, nobody much liked the idea of random, anonymous Agreed running around capable of throwing trucks around like they’re frisbees.

Otto thumped his head against the tree and closed his eyes.

“Where even is the closest registration site? How am I going to get there?” He groused, shaking his head a moment later. “Whatever. Future problem.”

“The class I got is called Leviathan.” Tobe perked up at that, and Kim leaned in looking interested. “I don’t know what it does. It didn’t tell me.”

Both of them looked surprised at that.

“The Donor didn’t tell you? Are you sure?” Kim asked. Otto shot him a glare, and he had the decency to wince in response. “Sorry. You probably read it over a few times. I’m just surprised, is all. That seems counterintuitive, doesn’t it? What’s the point of giving us powers if we suck at using them?”

Given how many times the Donor used the words ‘service’ and ‘servitude,’ I have some ideas. Otto thought to himself. He glanced up at the sky.

Can you hear me right now, asshole? Are you sentient? He paused. Probably. Well, if you can hear my thoughts…stop it.

“Leviathan sounds…” Tobe paused. Otto rolled his eyes and gestured for him to get on with it.

He dampened his enthusiasm but it bled through nonetheless.

“It sounds…kinda cool.” He said casually. “I mean, Leviathans are giant sea monsters, right? Maybe you’ll turn into one of those.”

Otto shuddered. “I hope not. That sounds strong maybe, but not very enjoyable.”

Kim tapped his chin in thought. “Can you exchange your class? Other planets that accepted the contract can, apparently. It’s pretty standard.”

Otto frowned. “It didn’t say anything like that. I don’t think so; it would have mentioned, right?”

Tobe nodded. “It would have. Earth is one of the planets who isn’t allowed to exchange classes amongst the selectees. Don’t know why. If you have an issue with it, take it up with one of the world leaders who made the original agreement. They all died decades ago, by the way.”

Otto grit his teeth in annoyance and balled his hands into fists. Of course he was stuck with it while other planets had made better deals; why wouldn’t he be. Just pile it on, world!

That was silly and more than a little childish, he knew, but the thought was still extremely frustrating. He was stuck with Leviathan, whatever that was.

“That sounds useful.” Kim said. “I can’t believe we don’t have it. That’s stupid.”

Otto looked to Tobe. “Why do you know all this, by the way?”

The boy scratched the back of his head. “I was pretty into superheroes growing up. I fell out of it after a talk my parents had with me about ‘setting realistic goals’ but some of it still stuck. I met you right around when I swore it all off for good.”

Kim looked down at his phone and his eyes went wide.

“Oh shit! We’re gonna be late!” He said, grabbing his bag where he had left it. Tobe scrambled for his as well, but Otto felt like he moved in slow motion. Both of them paused and looked at him.

“Are you…” Tobe trailed off.

“Coming with us?” Kim finished. Both looked at him expectantly.

Otto hesitated. He could leave now, and in the long term, he would be fine. His life was arguably set from this point onward. The details weren’t ironed out, but everyone in Babylon was minimum given somewhere to live, a stipend to live on, among other amenities. He could walk away, accept the contract, and he would be fine.

“I’ll come with you guys.” He decided. He grabbed his bag and they jogged back to the school, making it in and checking with Mr. Huckster just before the bell rang. He walked to math class in a fugue, barely registering the people around him. He sat at his desk, robotically replied when his name was called for attendance, and the quiz seemed to appear in front of him out of nowhere.

It was halfway through that it clicked. He was on a question where he couldn’t remember if he was supposed to be using sin() or cos(), and he realized he didn’t care anymore. An hour ago and he would have been stressing about it, wracking his brain for the answer. He would struggle, come up with an answer eventually, and move on to the next.

He didn’t care at all. If he remembered the answer right now, he wasn’t sure he would even waste the time writing it down.

What am I doing. He thought to himself.

Otto raised his hand.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” he asked in a whisper when his teacher came over. The teacher nodded his head and walked back to his desk, going back to grading. Otto grabbed his calculator, left his quiz and pencil where they lay, and walked out of the classroom.

The hallways were empty. He slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking. He saw a faculty member patrolling the hallways for delinquents skipping class, but she didn’t blink an eye at Otto. He was a good student; she didn’t need to worry about him. Ordinarily, she would be right.

Otto almost made it to the front doors uncosted. When he approached, a male faculty member walked out of the vice principal’s office and called out to him.

“Hey,” He said, sternly approaching. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Otto stared emotionlessly back. “Home.” He said.

The man crossed his arms. His hairline was receding so far it might fall off the back of his head, and his blue button up shirt was too tight. “Yeah? Where’s your note?”

Otto pointed to the guidance counselor’s offices on the other side of the hallway.

“I just turned it in. I got it from the nurse.” He said, staring back.

“You can go ask them, if you want.” He said innocently. The man narrowed his eyes.

“Wait here.” He said. Otto waited until he entered the office.

Then, he left the building. He didn’t look back.

* * *

The last time Otto hesitated at the door of his grandparent’s house, he was four years old.

At the time, it was a scary experience. He hadn’t met his grandparents before – not while conscious, at least – and it was…intimidating. A new place with new people who he was told loved him and he would love in return. He was a little nervous, was all. What if he didn’t have a connection to them?

What if they didn’t love him like his parents said they would?

Those fears ended up being wildly unfounded. His grandparents loved him dearly and the feeling was mutual. It had only strengthened with time, and as his love grew, his gratitude did as well. He knew his grandparents saw his parents dying as harder for him than it was them, but he also knew at times they had to be putting aside their own grief to nurture his. He owed them a debt that was impossible to repay, and truthfully, one that they would never call in or mention. They were family, and they loved each other unconditionally. There was no repayment necessary; in their eyes, that’s just what you do for family. The price you pay for the love you get in return, or maybe part and parcel with it.

The fear he had now was giving him déjà vu, flashbacks to the first time he arrived. A fear of being rejected. That the love they shared wasn’t as unconditional as he’d hoped.

He had swiped the contract acceptance screen into and out of his vision at least a dozen times while walking home, and each time it came as a shock. For obvious reasons, but also the sheer mechanics of it. He hadn’t felt a thing, and suddenly, he was connected to the Donor in a way that it could broadcast the screen into his mind. Or maybe it was the Donor that he was seeing, the nigh mythical ‘gift’ of the Jarrans being the semi-sentient system itself.

Was everyone connected, or only future Agreed? When was that connection established? At birth? Wouldn’t someone be able to notice?

He shook his head. He was distracting himself. His hand touched the metal doorknob, so familiar. The door would be unlocked; it always was during the day. His grandparents knew their neighbors, and the entire neighborhood was filled with old people. Nobody would be breaking in; it was far more likely someone came to drop off some chocolate covered pretzels or an apple pie.

The door opened and he stepped inside. It was warm, and he smelled something savory inside the oven. He was halfway through taking his shoes off when his grandmother walked in.

“Otto?” She asked, more surprised than angry. “What are you doing home?”

He froze. He tried to meet her eyes, but he found it difficult to, like they were magnets of the same charge. Every time he tried to force it, they slid off, unable to find purchase.

“Hey, Nana.” He eventually got out. She stepped forward and put a hand on his forehead, and he stumbled backwards. She looked at him with concern.

“I’m not sick.” He said. “I don’t have a fever…thank you, though.”

She looked him up and down. “What’s the matter, Otto?” She said with a tone that would allow no protests. Otto finally found his nerve and met her eyes.

“I need to talk to you and Papa.”

She looked at him with concern and seemed about to say something, but he cut her off.

“Please.” He said, lightly pleading. “Please get him and bring him here. I…need to tell you guys something.”

She gave him a long, searching look. He tried to meet her eyes, but they inevitably found their way to his feet. He blinked rapidly, and wiped one with the back of his hand.

“Okay.” She said eventually. She walked away briskly, smoothing out the floral-print sundress she wore that day. Otto sat at the dining table with clasped hands, one leg bouncing rapidly from nerves.

When he looked up at her return, his grandfather was in tow. He had dirt on the knees of his jeans from the garden, and he tossed a pair of worn gloves on the table. Ordinarily his grandmother would have scowled and moved them somewhere else, or onto a paper towel at least, but this time she just pulled two chairs out and took one. His grandfather remained standing for a moment, but eventually settled in as well.

Otto swallowed hard. He felt his grandparent’s eyes on him, but he didn’t know how to break the tension. He couldn’t just burst out and say it, but he didn’t want to dance around it and draw it out longer than necessary either; that would just be torture for everyone involved.

“You’re home early.” His grandfather grunted. Somehow, that drained some tension from his body. When he looked up, his leg wasn’t bouncing as much.

“I am.” He replied. His grandfather was studying him up and down.

“You get permission?” he asked. He sounded curious more than anything.

Otto shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Sorry. I just – got some news. It was too important to wait.”

He narrowed his eyes. His grandmother grabbed his shoulder for support and squeezed. They both looked at Otto across the table.

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

Otto took a deep breath. He didn’t want to get emotional, not when explaining it to them, but that question made it difficult.

“Not really, no.” He eventually croaked. He cleared his throat a few times, and looked up at them. He tried to keep his eyes and voice clear.

“About an hour and a half ago while in the woods with Tobe and Kim, I was selected. By the Donor.” He paused a moment to let the words sink in. Both of them looked at him, perhaps too shocked to reply, so he continued on.

“I thought they were messing with me at first. I told them to knock it off – I think I was too harsh about it, if I’m being honest, but I really…don’t like the idea. It bothers me. Then, they looked at me like I was crazy, and I realized…”

His throat closed up, and speaking comprehensibly became difficult.

Nobody said anything for a while. Otto stared at the table, periodically wiping his eyes and blowing his nose. He didn’t know how his grandparents were reacting. He couldn’t bear to look up, especially at his grandfather. The silence was too much for him, and he felt the floodgates break.

“It’s-“ His voice broke, and he struggled to get it back under control. “I don’t want this.” He said. “But I don’t think I have a choice. I’m a servant of the Jarran Government now. The moment the Donor’s words ringed in my ears, I was theirs.” He blew his noise again, and felt something warm slide down his cheek.

“I’m scared.” He croaked. He looked up at them both. His grandmother was looking at him with tears in her eyes. His grandfather was looking far, far away.

“I don’t want this, I don’t want to be an Agreed. I wish they chose anyone else. I got- it doesn’t matter what I got. I don’t want this.” He repeated the mantra again and again, but it changed nothing.

“But more than anything, I’m scared.” He admitted. A weight felt like it was lifted from his shoulders, and he broke down. Tears fell from his eyes freely, landing in his lap while he tried shielding his face with the tissue to limited success.

His grandfather stood from the table and walked away. His grandmother grabbed at him to pull him back, but he dodged the grab and kept walking. Otto heard the door to the basement shut hard.

“He’s-“ His grandmother began. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s a lot to take in. I’m sure you understand. You’re the one with the alien in your brain.” She said with a forced smile. It got one from Otto as well, and it felt good.

She circled the table and sat down beside him, pushing the chair close. She wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, and he felt his face pressed into the warmth of her embrace.

“It’s okay.” She said. She stroked his hair, repeating those words. “It’s okay.”

“We’ll get through this. It’s okay. We’ve gotten through worse before, together. We love you.”

Each repetition pieced Otto back together a little bit more, until eventually, he pulled away. He blew his nose, and his grandmother cupped his face with her hand. She gave him a sad smile.

“Feel better?” She asked. Otto nodded. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and ruffled his hair.

“Good.” She said. “Now, tell me more about this, hm?”

So Otto did. He talked about how it started, explained more about how he thought Tobe and Kim were messing with them, and then he got into the experience itself.

“My class is A rank, which is really good. Surprising for someone my age.” He said. “It’s not S, but it could have been worse. I guess.”

Otto didn’t know why he cared about what rank he was. Part of him had decided, he guessed, that if he was to be an Agreed, he might as well be a good one, and it’s easier to do more with…more.

“That’s good news?” She asked. Otto nodded and gave a ‘so-so’ gesture with his hand after.

“It’s good because it means I’ll be…stronger. More useful.” He said. “The bad news is…I’ll be more useful. That means I might get summoned more, and it could be dangerous. The class I got is called Leviathan. It doesn’t sound like I’ll be decorating Jarran homes for a living.”

His grandmother bit her lip nervously. She had taken the food out of the oven; she had been baking garbage bread, and he was constantly eyeing it waiting for her to say it was cool enough to eat. She didn’t notice, much to his chagrin.

“That is unfortunate.” She said. “It’s good that you’ll be useful!” She hurriedly added, “But…”

“But danger isn’t good.” Otto finished for her. She nodded sheepishly.

“I don’t disagree.” He replied. “I don’t want to be in danger, or in the thick of it, or anything like that. Danger is bad. I almost wish I had been D rank.” The only problem with that was that getting in any sort of trouble was immensely dangerous for D rank, and there was no guarantee he would be spared just because of the lower ranking. Maybe the Jarran’s used D rank Agreed as cannon fodder in some eternal intergalactic war, or something. He just didn’t know.

Despite their planets being connected through the contract, most of the information was restricted to the top levels of each society. The rich and powerful of each understood the other’s culture and political situations, but people like Otto or common Jarrans didn’t. Even among the top one percent, the imbalance of information was massive; the Jarrans knew vastly more about Earth than Earth does about them. The Jarrans claimed they wouldn’t knowingly send Agreed to certain death, but there was no way of guaranteeing that.

They had all the power in the dynamic. All Otto and the other Agreed could do was hope.

* * *

“Your grandmother said you think I’m upset with you.”

Several hours had passed. He and his grandmother had talked about the situation, and he found himself answering many of the questions Kim and Tobe asked as well. He sent them a text to let them know he was okay and had just gone home for the day, and both understood. Kim even said he’d expected it and wrote an extra copy of notes for Spanish class, which he was grateful for, even though he wasn’t sure he would ever walk back through those doors again.

His grandmother had received a call from the school reporting him missing, and she told him she would deal with it. He went to his room and laid on his bed staring up at the ceiling until his grandfather spoke.

Otto sat up. His grandfather stayed in the doorway. Something felt different about him, but he only pinned it when he looked in his eyes.

He was angry. Deeply, deeply angry.

“I thought…maybe.” Otto admitted. “You just left.”

His grandfather shook his head immediately. “Not- not because of you. It’s not your fault.”

Silence stretched between them. His grandfather seemed to be making a decision, and when he finally did, his voice was more gravely, and more passionate than it was a moment before.

“Eight years ago, there were four people in this world that I would have died for. You, your grandmother, your father, and your mother. No questions asked.” He said. Otto felt that he saw something crack.

“Those alien bastards already took two of them.” He spat.

“That wasn’t enough. Now they want to take another. What are they going to do, take Maria too?” He shook his head, his hands clenching into fists. He looked back to Otto sitting on the bed. He took a few deep breaths and lowered his voice, but the rage wasn’t done with him yet.

“You know the worst part?” He asked. “I can’t do a damn thing about it. There’s nothing to do. Some dead politicians made a deal they didn’t understand a hundred years ago, and now-“ He cut himself off. He visibly deflated, the wind taken from his sails.

“Now I might lose another. And there isn’t a thing we can do about it.”

He walked up to Otto, and sat on his bed beside him. He slumped down. For the first time in his life, Otto saw the statue crack and underneath, he was just a man. His grandfather rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not angry with you, Otto. I never could be. Your grandmother and I will support you, no matter what, until the sky falls and St. Sebastien takes us home. You two are all I’ve got left.”

He put an arm around him and pulled him in, and Otto let it happen. His grandfather felt solid, realer than anything else in the world at that moment. He was as solid as the soil he toiled with every day. Eternal.

They might have sat like that for hours, or only a few moments, Otto couldn’t tell, but when they separated, he felt better. For the first time since the whole ordeal, he thought he might survive it.

And even if he didn’t, at least his family was behind him all the while.