Far in the forest, Meth and Zoork stood behind a tree, watching Reaper and Arthur.

The water levels increased, now close to knee level, forcing all wild creatures to flee the ground. Only fools would find themselves in such a tubulous environment.

"We need to do something," Zoork said, grabbing Meth's shoulder. "He'll die if we keep watching."

Meth smiled, not responding as he attentively observed Arthur getting his hands served over and over.

"Meth, he's about to run out of Tuam. We need to-"

Meth squinted his eyes, turning around and looking at Zoork. "Shut up. I'm trying to watch the future."

"Enough! He'll die before you can complete your damned future."

"Aren't you as curious as I am? Have you no shame? Let me soak in this beautiful moment. This is the juncture between a dull life and a beautiful hereafter. This is that moment I dreamed of. We sacrificed everything, and now it's in front of us."

"At any rate, our... your future will die. Arthur doesn't have enough energy to deal with the Grim Reaper."

"Old man. How many times must I tell you?"

"Meth, this isn't the time for your frolics. Or your damn jokes. Not now. Not now. Please don't be yourself for once."

Meth ignored Zoork and stared at the sky as the water dripped onto his face, but suddenly, he pointed to the sky and turned his gaze towards Arthur. "Power isn't bestowed on those born as prodigies, nor those who are the smartest, most intelligent, or even strongest. Power is given to those who are willing to give their all. Give up anything to achieve it," he said and paused, making binoculars with his hands and placing them against his face as he looked at Arthur. "Power is for those eager to sacrifice it all and restrict themselves."

"Enough of your bogus. Go. Go before he dies."

Meth raised his hand, making a peace sign. He stepped forward, pushing all the bushes out of his way as he walked through the heavily developed forest.

The water was at knee level, making it challenging to walk through. It wasn't a fast-moving flood, though it was rising. The flood didn't entirely abide by physics, but a fish becoming one with a human made some sense, so maybe there was a reason for the water being stationary?

Reaper stepped away from Arthur, scanning the area. "Who's there?"

"This sucks," Meth said, rubbing his temple as he walked through a bush and into Reaper's peripheral.

Not even a second later, Reaper ran to Meth and positioned his blade against his neck.

"Boring," Meth said, yawning. He stepped back and avoided the blade, walking to Arthur.

Reaper turned his head, staring at Meth, almost like he saw a ghost. "Why are you performing Nimak?"

"You would have found me if I didn't hide my Tuam. And well, don't worry about it. It's none of your concern."

Reaper gripped his scythe, his hand slightly shaking. He knew Meth must be deceiving him. There was no other way around it because only an idiot would have shown up with Tuam deactivated.

Meth stood in front of Arthur, kicking his head.

Arthur flopped into the water, unconscious. Only his face was above the water as he resided in it.

Meth grabbed Arthur, but before he could pull him out of the water, Reaper brought his scythe near his hand.

"When will you heroes realize not every problem can be solved with a life?"

"That's ironic. Do you not see the dead bodies of my brothers? Are they not lives?"

"No," Meth said with a sincere tone, looking around as he only saw water — the murky liquid shrouded the dead bodies.

"Meth, you're under the jurisdiction of the Agency. We deem The Wanderers as terrorists. You and your whole group are done."

"Funny," Meth said, grinning. "If we're terrorists, then what does that make you?"

Reaper was ready to slice Meth, but he couldn't. Meth was acting too suspicious. He knew if he tried to cut him, there was some sort of deception awaiting him. The man in front of him wouldn't simply stroll into his hands, especially not without a plan.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Oh me? Getting out of this shit weather would be first on my priority list. Then maybe going to a beach with some hot chicks? What about you?"

"Stop joking. You stop right now, or else... Why are you here with no help or Tuam activated?"

"Before I answer that, would you mind telling me why the Agency is willing to take me in alive? That's quite odd, considering we're terrorists and all. Killing me shouldn't be a problem. Right? Or maybe I'm thinking about it too much? What do you say?"

"You already know. If we kill you, we'd be breaking many treaties. Far too many to count."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Meth yawned, moving his hand towards his own face.

Reaper focused on Meth's hand, jumping back and getting into a defensive position.

"You know, for being a Hero and all... you kind of lack the bravery aspect of it. Or maybe heroism never dealt with bravery. Seeing you would affirm that notion."

Reaper pointed his weapon at Meth and gritted his teeth as he ignored the banter.

"Fine, I'll answer your question. Why am I here without protection? You know what they say about me. I like to hit it raw-"

"Enough! No more games. I know your known for your trickery, so if you answer me now, I won't impair you. You'll have days where you can live with your body intact. So how does that sound? Speak now or forever regret it."

"I wouldn't mind disabled parking... but sure, enough games. You say you know me for trickery, but you probably don't know me for my wisdom."

"Stop with the bullshit," he said, gripping his weapon even harder. He grew more hesitant to engage in combat as the seconds passed.

"Reaper as a famous Hero, how do you feel about murdering Villains?"

Despite having doubts about answering, he did, falling into Meth's scheme. "It's them or good people. I'll kill those the Agency tells me to because those are the same people who'd try to ruin the very balance of our country. They try to tarnish the freedom that this very country gave them... That's not allowed. So if they have to pay with their lives for our freedom to be intact, then so be it."

"It's not that I don't believe your sentiment to be genuine, but it's blinded by narrow vision. Heroes, Villains, and even Citizens, we all are a part of a restricted ruler. A confined region. But we all find ourselves there."

"Meth, I don't want to harm you, so turn yourself in."

"You, out of all people, shouldn't worry about me. Did you know, after the last time we met, I gave a speech to a city I saved. In fact, that speech was broadcasted to the nation, but they cut it short. Do you want to know why?"

Reaper stood silent.

"Because I spoke the truth. None of you want to hear the truth. Not even you."

"The only truth is with your influence, you could help millions. Yet, you decide to squander it all because of a prophecy. You based your entire organization upon The Wanderer, and you dare bear the arrogance to question the Agency? In contrast to you, we care for our country rather than pretending to live in a fairytale. What truth could be greater than joining forces with us and saving lives? Lives, damn it. Not games. Lives!"

"It was along these lines," Meth said, glancing at Arthur, then at Reaper. "We will never eradicate crime and injustice, and Villain-hunts will never be about Villains."

"Bullshit," Reaper said, flaring his hand in the air. "The Agency doesn't have any ulterior motives. We simply bring peace to the people by cleansing those who question our country's prosperity."

"I guess you're blinded with both your eyes and brain. To think you'd be double-blinded..."

The rain grew more violent as the water rocked back and forth. Most of the liquid washed into the river as runoff.

Reaper's history explained his reluctant behavior with Meth, but he made up his mind about cutting Meth. He was determined to kill him. Meth was clearly a hindrance to society, and even if backlash occurred, it would be far safer than keeping him alive.

"Chill out," Meth said, pointing to Arthur. "He's a bomb. If I were you, I'd stay the fuck back."

"You're bluffing."

"Why don't you try asking the others? Oh wait, they're dead. Your brothers are dead."

"I don't favor my life. If I were to die trying to stop you, so be it. I'll die as a Hero."

"That's what I'll never understand about Heroes. The logical answer would be to retreat and save lives in the future, but no, you all would rather squander that opportunity and die as a glorified waste of space."

The rain pelted Reaper and Meth as they stood silently, staring at each other. If no one knew what transpired, they'd see two dark silhouettes of two men of varying beliefs facing each other. A tension potent enough to damage anyone's psyche.

"The choice is yours. Would you rather die a Hero or act as one?"

Reaper stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Meth. He extended his blade back and slowly brought it forward.

"Don't do that," Meth said. "Your death will be nothing more than a guarantee. And you know I mean that."

"I can't, not with this blade." He yanked his weapon back and avoided eye contact. "I'll never understand you. Never. But the next time we meet, know I won't waver. Not even for a second. I swear." He quickly breathed, dropping his weapon into the water. He looked at his hands and then at Meth, punching him in the face and running away into the forest. The weapon washed away.

Meth smiled, licking his bloody lips. He looked down at Arthur and grabbed his hair, pulling his head up from the water. "Arthur, stand up."

Zoork ran towards Meth and Arthur. "We need to leave. The flood is reaching absurd levels."

Meth slapped Arthur in the face, yelling into his ear. "Stand up, stand tall, stand even if no one will stand with you."

Zoork touched both Meth and Arthur. "I need a minute to activate my powers."

Meth ignored Zoork and narrowed his eyes at Arthur. He slapped Arthur. "Wake up and stand."

The water furiously tore bushes, plants, and even small trees. While chaos ensued, the three stooges were buck naked in the middle of the flood. They needed to move soon, or a deadly outpour would inevitably meet them.

Zoork panted as he yelled, "I would like to transfer Zoork, Arthur, and Meth to location A!"

The group bounced through a tunnel of color-changing slime, a force streaming them to their location. All three of them plunged into location A — a room. The area was simple: a table in the middle with a revolving chair and two tall office cabinets behind it. The office cabinets held many pots of plants, each jar with a different color. Arthur lifelessly fell onto the table while Zoork landed on his feet, and Meth found himself on top of a cabinet.

Meth jumped from the cabinet onto the floor. He ran to Arthur and checked his pulse. "Arthur, come on!"

"Damn it," Zoork said, grabbing a vase from the cabinet and smashing it onto the floor. "Your idiotic games got him killed. You wasted resources, our distinction as an organization, our treaty with the Wolves, my time... We sacrificed too much for this Meth."

"Stand up, stand tall, stand even if no one will stand with you."

Zoork grabbed Meth's shoulder and pushed him into the cabinet. "Stop it with your philosophical ego trip. He's dead." He clenched his teeth and sniffed through his nose. "Fucking dead."

"Let me try resuscitating him," Meth said, trying to push Zoork out of the way, but he was too bulky.

"His Tbars are destroyed," Zoork said.

Meth's heart dropped as he looked at Arthur. "It's all changed. No, this wasn't supposed to happen." He punched Zoork in the face, running forward.

Zoork shook his head, grabbing Meth. "When will you learn your powers aren't a gift? They're a curse." He pulled Meth and punched him in the face, throwing him into a cabinet.

From the shaking cabinet, a few vases fell onto the floor, the glass cracking. Broken glass, plants, and wet soil covered the ground.

Meth tried resisting, but Zoork grabbed him tighter and pushed him into the cabinet, again and again, more vases falling onto the floor. He used all his force to move to the right. Instead of escaping, he found himself in front of the other cabinet, smashed against it. The vases from this cabinet also crashed onto the ground.

Meth's face and Zoork's fist were bloody, but they didn't stop. They continued to struggle as Meth was baby-handled. It wasn't even a fight.

An audible cough was heard from the table as Arthur sat up. Water from the wet soil flowed up the table's legs and onto him. The water trickled into his mouth as it made its way towards his inner bodily system.