“Haaah… I’m so glad I went out today…”

The last couple of hours Lawrence had spent in the Cloudsweet Café had been one of his best experiences ever. Not only he got to enjoy the pleasantries of a fine establishment with top-quality deserts (and, the best of coffees, of course), but he also had the chance to talk to a beautiful girl.

“It’s such a pity I had to go… but I can’t spend too much time there… Miss Emma would be troubled if I did.”

He faced once again the bone-chilling wind of one of Plaza’s coldest winter ever. Walking down the street, he swam through the morning crowd of people going to work, or simply wandering around the city like him. His house was still some time’s worth of walking away, but he didn’t feel like taking a taxi.

And so, he started walking again.

This time, however, two things had changed since he had entered the café.

The first was the warmness in his heart that warded off any traces of cold.

The second was that his head was now clear and he could think straight about the matter that had gotten him outside in the first place.

Namely, the fact that he, Lawrence Lakewood, was now a Villain.

“First things first, what does that even mean for me?”

He had several paths to take from here on.

The first would be ignoring his current state and keeping on with his normal life. Pretending had never gotten that notification from the Root and it was all just a bad dream was certainly impossible, but he could disguise the mark on the back of his hand and not partake in any activities involving metas…

“But I think that’s not really possible.”

He was the person who had wished for a special power, after all. Now that he had it, turning his back on it would be…

“Boring.”

It was at that moment that Lawrence realized the reason why he had originally wished for things to change. ‘Boring’ defined it perfectly. His current life. His past. His future-to-be. Every single aspect of his life was utterly devoid of any meaningful events.

And so, turning his back on possibly the only event that could ever change that, was simply stupid.

“So that rules out the ‘pretending this never happened’ option… What is next?”

A particularly strong gust of wind blew in the streets, ripping posters and signs from their place. One of such pieces of paper hit Lawrence’s face, and he took it with an annoyed frown.

A second later, his expression shifted.

“Oh, yeah… I guess there’s also this option…”

The poster was white and blue, the LHU’s official colors. It was printed with a compact friendly font.

Handling Villains: A Civilian’s Guide

Have you seen anything suspicious? Is someone you know behaving different than usual? Are weird things starting to happen for no particular reason? Then you might be a victim of a Villain’s schemes, and you should report it immediately!

Call to the number below in this pamphlet. If you are somewhy unable to do so, follow the following instructions in case you directly engage a Villain…

(Yiddi Yiddi Yadda)

We remember to all citizens of the States of Union that, in case you are chosen a Meta, you must immediately report it to the nearest LHU Headquarters. Failing to do so constitutes a crime and is punished by the law according to the Article No. 37 of the Worldwide Metahumans and Associated Regulation.

In case you are a Hero, you will be given the proper education and the corresponding documents. You will then be presented with the option to join our forces in the Law-Enforcing Heroes Union.

In case you are a Villain, you will be put under temporary supervision, after which you will also be given the corresponding documents of certification. We WON’T punish Villains for being so: if you have committed no illegal crimes, you have nothing to fear!

“And so on.”

This was another choice. To turn himself in.

In case he did so, he could live his life pacifically. As pacifically as being a potential threat for everyone around could mean.

According to his Meta Society Studies classes, a Villain could also present a motion to join the LHU as an official Hero, despite what his status told. True, it was also an option.

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He could turn into a Hero…

His dream would finally come true…

…

“So how come I’m not excited at this at all?”

It was really strange. Lawrence, the Lawrence that was just last night begging for the chance to turn into a Hero, was right now seriously considering turning down that option.

“Why…?”

Part of it, he knew, was because he knew the truth beneath all that propaganda.

Laurent, his brother, was an official Hero in the LHU, and though he wasn’t assigned to the Worne YK state, he and his brother talked on regular basis. This was one of the reasons why Lawrence was so informed in such matters.

Laurent had also secretly told him what happened to the Villains who turned themselves in to the LHU headquarters.

Most of them ended up as paper-pushers and errand monkeys. Those who actually got some field work grew at turtle’s pace, partially thanks to the contradiction between their own Quests and their jobs, partially because any improvements on their statuses was taken as an evidence of evildoing.

Of course, Laurent hadn’t told him exactly that, but Lawrence could two and two together.

“So that’s not really an option either…”

No, turning himself in wouldn’t do. Ignoring his situation wasn’t any good, either. Then the last path he could take was…

“To actually become a Villain…”

Lawrence appreciated the possibility and all it meant.

What did turning into a bona fide Villain mean for his life? Would it mean the end of his pacific routine as he knew it? Could he part-time? Like keeping a secret identity? What were the limits he would put to himself in that aspect? What would happen if they discovered him?

All these question swirled on his head like a giant typhon. He was starting to lose it again.

“Calm down, me. I’m an adult. I have to think through this, assess all possible options and…”

Assess all possible options and…

All possible options and…

…

“Gah, screw this. That was way too much thinking for now. Let’s put that matter on hold first figure out how not to get into jail.”

And so he conveniently pushed the problem away for the him of the future to handle it.

“Oh, I’m here.”

Unconsciously, Lawrence had walked all the way to his neighborhood once again. He recognized an old lady carrying some heavy-looking bags.

“Good Morning, Mrs. Rose.”

The old lady turned around and noticed Lawrence greeting her.

“Ah, hello there, sweetie. Do you mind?” She raised her bags for him to notice, not without some effort. “I’m afraid these old bones have lost their touch.”

“Please, you are as lovely as ever, Mrs. Rose. Of course I will help you with your bags…”

And so he did. Mrs. Rose’s house was hardly two or three blocks away from his, anyways.

What damage would it do?

“Here, let me –gah– I mean, see, light as a feather!”

What the hell is this woman carrying here?! Compressed titanium ingots?!

It appeared damage it could do. Severe spine damage, at that.

“Thanks sweetie. You don’t see a lot of people like you these days…”

“You don’t?” He answered distractedly, trying hard not to give away his sentiment of exasperation. His bones creaked almost noticeably, and he had to hold back a harrumph.

Her face twitched in a half-frown, half sad smile.

“Everyone is too busy taking care of themselves to help the one next to them. We growing more and more distant of each other…”

Not that Lawrence actually understood, but he nodded nevertheless.

“But enough about me. How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in a while…”

“Ah, yes… Well, I’ve been busy with work. I work at home, but it’s still taxing and I usually end up working ‘till late… Oh, but I’m officially on vacations. Kinda… Anyways, I should be free these days…”

The memory of a mark in the back of his hand flashed on his head.

“… Or maybe not…”

Lawrence sighed, and Mrs. Rose chuckled.

“Young people also have their problems…”

“I guess they do…”

“Well, this is where I live sweetie” they stopped in front of a big old-style house that somehow reminded him of a castle, and the lady took her bags once again. Lawrence was shocked at how heavy those were, but he didn’t say a word, fearing he would be called a wimp.

“Thank you for your help!”

“It was my pleasure…”

… to get rid of those bowling ball bags.

“Well then…”

And with a rattling sound, the old lady went back to her house.

“Good grief, I’ll have to make an appointment with my physiotherapist…”

•••••

It hurt.

It hurt so bad he wanted to tear his hair and shred his skin.

What had he done to deserve this?

All he wanted was a peaceful life.

He had hopes.

He had dreams.

Now all of that was shattered.

Discarded.

Why was this happening to him?

Oh, yes.

It hurt so much.

…

……

………

“OH DEAR LORD MY BACK!!! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY BACK?!?!?!”

Lawrence was currently wallowing in despair as the his spine felt like it was being torn out of his body, dismounted, hammered, burnt, shattered, and them put back together with glue, all while he was conscious.

There was a phrase to sum up how he was doing.

He was feeling like shit.

“That’s the last time I offer to carry that woman’s bags!!! What the hell was she carrying, anyways?! Mjolnir?!”

The next phrase was cut off by another pulsation of pain.

“GAH– Sweet lord! Please, just make it stop!”

Lawrence wondered if there was any safe way of tearing out his own spine without suffering any damages.

No more damage than this, anyways.

He got up of the bed, earning him another handful of spasms and pain, and a few cracking vertebrae. Step by step, he walked through the land of hell until he reached the kitchen, and he took a bottle of painkillers.

It was empty.

“Fuck!” He threw it away with all his might, and it described an interesting series of straight lines, curves, twirls, Moebius’ loops, and other impossible figures, until it fell on the only place it could: his head.

A thick vein twitched on his forehead.

“Breath, Lawrence Lakewood… Breathe… Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale… There, you’ve got it…”

After he was calmed enough he would hit the next person he came across, he decided to go out and buy a new bottle of painkillers.

So he cladded himself in his winter clothes, the ones he had left for a walk with last night, and once again ignored the goddangable ache on his back.

And he discovered something important.

His wallet was missing.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Someone had stolen his wallet.

But who on earth?! He had it with him when he left! For that jog last night! And the only person he met was that strange girl with even stranger fashion taste and…

And…

…

“Fuck!”

She had crashed with him on purpose, hadn’t she?! And now she was spending all the money inside his wallet! HIS money! The one he broke his spine to earn! Okay, maybe not literally so (he broke his spine to help and old lady, actually) but that didn’t really matter, now did it!

“Oh, you’ll see, when I catch you I’ll…”

And that was around the time someone knocked on his door.

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!?!?!”

Knock Knock Knock!

“Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale…”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!!!

“Exhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Inhale… Inxale…”

“Lawrence Lakewood? Worne PD! Open up!” The words came from the other side of the door.

Lawrence smiled.

“You know what? I should just keep exhaling. And never inhale again while I’m at it.”

Truly, what a shitful of a day.