"Greetings and Welcome. My name is Marisol Reyes, and tonight, a very special report. As most are aware by now, a huge showdown in Portland, Oregon between the serial hero killer Reaver and Aegis took place just one week ago. While reports were scattered at first, multiple online videos have surfaced since, detailing the entirety of the fight. The action was so quick, that several enterprising social media personalities have also shown the fight slowed down so that it can be more easily followed for casual viewers.

"There have been no fatalities in the incident, and no serious injuries, though obviously, all involved have been through a harrowing experience. Most of all Tim Ford, a hero with the power to touch objects and trace them back. He was trapped by the power of a magical scythe, the very scythe that was the signature weapon of Reaver. In the two years that Reaver had control of Mr. Ford, he slew eight heroes, the powers absorbing into the scythe until Aegis became the newest target of Reaver. Tonight, we welcome, from Portland, Oregon, the hero of heroes, *Aegis*!"

*Oh God, that is just SO wrong*. I stepped onto the stage, and the crowd erupted with applause, many leaving their seats, it was... disconcerting for me. I waved and bowed to the crowd, taking off my new BSA cap as I did, and took a seat. The armchair was surprisingly comfortable and the set itself was rigged to look almost like one of those back porch areas that's got the glass encasement. A solar, I think? I'll look it up later. Ms. Reyes opened up, "Welcome to our show, Aegis. How are you doing tonight?"

I set my cap on my knee, "I'm doing great, Ms. Reyes, but uh, you can just call me Marcus. It's not like it's a secret."

She smiled in that faked sincerity that all the reporters used, "Oh, sweetie, you can call me Marisol here. How did you come up with the name Aegis, Marcus?"

I took a quick breath, "Well, Ms. Marisol, Aegis is actually my gamertag, which is what I use online. I never really intended it to be my hero name, it's just the name I'm used to using. As to where I got it from, I got it from the video game Final Fantasy, specifically Final Fantasy Four. I just thought it sounded cool. I didn't learn until much later that it was associated with Greek mythology."

She laughed at little more than she should have, a piece for the show, and it was more genuine, "So you like video games?"

"Oh yeah. Me and my buddy Darryl- Uh, he's the one from the video shouting over the mic- play a bunch. I've mostly been working on simulators like Cities: Skylines of late. Actually, on that front, I've been building Portland within the game, and I'm even coding mods right now for the game to add elements to make it more true to life," I was gesturing with my arm, and Marisol noticed the metal under my flannel.

"Um, excuse me, but is that... a watch?" Ms. Marisol pointed.

Well, this is gonna be a weird moment, "Oh, uh.... This is Reaver."

I pulled up the sleeve of the flannel and held up what looked like a chrome bracer. Marisol took a moment on that one, "So, you remade the scythe into a... some sort of forearm guard?"

"Oh, no, no. Reaver did. This... is gonna be a bit of an explanation if you don't mind," I sat forward and concentrated for a moment, and Reaver shifted form, moving up into my hand, and reforming into a quarterstaff made of the same chrome-like metal.

She nodded slowly, "I think I can safely say that all of our audience at home would appreciate some explanation of this."

I nodded, "Reaver was first forged back just before the fall of Rome, a sort of final weapon to try and save the empire. Unfortunately, a thief broke in and killed the forger who made it, and ran off with the weapon, which at the time was a spear."

Reaver reformed again, becoming a perfect Roman longspear, "The thief used it until he, in turn, was killed by a crime boss who wanted it, and reformed into a gladius, the boss's preferred weapon. From there, it would change hands repeatedly between various criminals, warlords, and such, quietly in the shadows of Europe's Dark Ages. With each user, Reaver developed more of an identity, but formed from the amalgam of its users, and eventually, became a sort of embodiment of the concept of death itself, forming into the scythe we're more familiar with."

Reaver kept shifting as I told the tale, changing again and again as I told the story, going through the various forms it had held throughout the centuries, with the exception of the scythe itself... we'd had that conversation. Ms. Marisol sat spellbound but continued listening, and I saw one of the guys signaling to delay the commercial break, "Eventually, it came into the hands of a pretty depraved lunatic, a court jester to some minor noble that history's basically forgotten. He wasn't just a jester, however, but that lord's personal assassin and that guy died of the Black Plague. By then, we had a fully formed version of what we call The Grim Reaper, and it had evolved into the scythe you see now. From there, it felt its master die, and no new master came. The tomb it was recovered from wasn't even its actual burial tomb, it was just where the last wielder of Reaver died, trying to hide from the bounty hunters trying to take him down.

"With all these murders, Reaver's entire identity was, more or less, formed entirely of murderers, rapists, and warlords, incredibly prolific killers all, even by the standards of Medieval Europe... which is saying something. What had been designed to be the last hope of Rome became the ultimate weapon of destruction. Fast forward, and when Tim found the scythe, it finally, for the first time in centuries had a wielder, but Tim was a really nice guy, and of course, wasn't a warrior, and so Reaver forced its mind over his, finally making it its own master, sort of like how a drowning victim might panic, and try to drag down their rescuer. Reaver's first task was to amass the power it needed, and in our parlance, Hero has a very specific connotation, as one who sacrifices for others, often without expectation of glory or riches. For the Greeks, Hero was very different, as most fought only for glory and 'honor', which was also considered very differently."

Her earpiece was buzzing, and Ms. Marisol regained composure, "That is absolutely fascinating, and we'll hear more about it after the break."

The cameraman signaled the cut, and Ms. Marisol leaned in toward me as people came in to reset for the next part of the interview. This included one of the... PAs? I could be wrong on that one. It's been a crazy week, "Marcus, seriously, that is Reaver?"

I nodded, "Oh yeah, it's been a crazy week for me."

She talked with her producer for a moment, who apparently was talking ratings with her, and I waved over one of the guys around the catering table to bring one of the pastries I saw. I figured I should get the cannoli in while I was on the East Coast. I was just finishing it as we got the countdown signal from the clipboard person. Marisol immediately, "Welcome back. We're continuing our interview tonight with the hero known as Aegis, who has dramatically revealed a hidden history of the sentient weapon, Reaver. So, Marcus, you were saying that Reaver had a long chain of criminals as wielders. How did this inform what it became?"

I leaned back in the chair, "Well, imagine a child raised with only the morals and ethics of Charles Manson and Hannibal Lecter, and then remember that both of those monsters in the flesh would be considered to be posting rookie numbers by the standards of the Dark Ages of Europe. The most hardcore conservatives of the here and now would be a bunch of tree-hugging hippies even a couple of hundred years ago. When that child turns 18 and goes out into the world, they have no exposure to any sort of traditional morality, and that's just shy of two decades, let alone centuries.

"Its understanding of the term Hero was based on the Heros- to be distinguished from heroes as we know them- of ancient Greece, and they were not considered on the value of anything we'd consider a hero in today's world. So when it took over the mind of Tim, Reaver just applied its own understanding of the model. Villains are the enemies of heroes, and so it looked at Tim's conception of what a villain is and... well, when we talk about villains, we have a particular meaning, too, that's very different. It used to mean someone bound to the land of a villa, so essentially, farmers and other lower-class jobs that were bound to the lands of their noble lord.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"That turned into villein, which just meant someone of less than knightly status, then got sort of jammed in with the word vile, and we start getting to where we are now, and that got made concrete when supers first emerged and the first supervillains appeared. By the time our concept of heroes and villains had fully become a thing, Reaver was totally entombed and missed that piece of etymology. Tim was a Hero, and the Hero was fighting it, trying to deny it. So, it registered itself as the enemy of heroes, and the whole horror show began."

Ms. Marisol sat silent for a moment while I took a sip from my mug of Dr. Pepper, "So, how did you learn all this?"

"Reaver.... told is the wrong technical word here... but it presented itself to me? Originally, during the final bit where I picked up the scythe, and the huge light show began that eventually destroyed the cameras, Reaver saw itself in the guise of that jester with the scythe, and that's what it showed me in a liminal space- A sort of mental space sort of akin to a dream state, but conscious or lucid dreaming- where we fought for final control."

Ms. Marisol stopped me, "Wait... what happened there?"

I laughed and shook my head, "You know, I must've explained this to people half a dozen times, and I have yet to have anyone believe me that it went down that way, but here it goes: Basically, it was a war between Light and Dark. Darkness was all Reaver knew, and saw the light as its enemy, as its end. It was a contest of wills, so I focused on my light, and the people I love, and Reaver freaked out, and went on a full assault. I nearly lost."

She wasn't even disguising her genuine curiosity at this point, leaning in her chair, "You almost lost? What would've happened if you had?"

"Well, I had a plan for that. I set up a classmate of mine to incapacitate me, then just, y'know, kick the scythe away. I knew that there was a chance that this went against me, but I couldn't take the chance that some cop touched it, and suddenly we've got a Reaver that has actual modern combat training. Anyways, I was pushing Reaver, trying to gain control, and it was pushing back, trying to defend itself... and from there, to harness my will, I did an... unconventional mantra," God, they'd *all* thought I was joking when I told them, but truth is stranger than fiction.

Ms. Marisol smiled, "And what was that mantra?"

I was fighting laughing, "I swear, by all I hold dear in this world, I recited the Scout Laws for Boy Scouts."

She really did laugh this time, and not that 'ha ha ha' laugh of eternaly, she actually snorted a bit and her accent picked up as I joined in on laughing, "This insane evil, and you just... Dios Mio!"

I wiped a tear from my eye as I broke and laughed a little myself, "Look, if I'd had a better mantra, I'd have used it, but I've been in Scouts one way or another since I was like four years old! I started out as a Tagalong in Mackenzie's Brownie troop, then when I was six, I went after Tiger Scouts myself. I've had to teach those laws to incoming boys, made sure they had it down pat and explained the tenets of the laws to them."

"And what happens to Reaver now?"

I considered for a bit, "Well... I'm not entirely sure. It isn't inherently evil, nothing that can think is, it was just used and abused for so long that it assumed that was the natural state and balance of the world, to be the abuser or the abused. I was shocked as hell when it appeared to my mind while we were getting in the Uber on the way to Shari's. It pleaded for me not to let go of it, cause I had to stick it somewhere, and like, seriously, it was a seven-foot-tall scythe. Van or not, it wasn't fitting as it was. When it pleaded to my mind, it sort of... it felt like a child crying out, not that dark thing I'd fought. When it realized it wouldn't fit in the van, it reformed itself into the bracer, which was so much easier to carry around. Shocked the hell out of the driver, though.

"In any event, it just didn't want to die or to be cast aside again. Its entire understanding of the world outside itself is based on having someone to wield it, so imagine a heavily abused puppy that's then abandoned in a ditch, and finally found someone they feel safe around, never wanting to be put down, or left at home."

I was suddenly aware of the audience again as they grumbled. Wait, they're sympathetic? Sort of figured that'd be a harder sell, but I guess once you start describing abused animals, it kind of snaps everyone around to how horrific the treatment was. Ms. Marisol's eyes were a little watery, then she quirked a bit, "So... wait, who's Shari?"

"Oh, shi-- um, sorry. Shari's is a chain of 24-hour diners back home. I'm just so used to everyone knowing that I didn't think to explain. We were all a bit hungry after the whole thing, so went and got food til parents came to get us. We didn't just walk off by ourselves, though. Ms. Anna from the H.A.A. went with us. She's a therapist and counselor for new supers at the Portland Branch, so we've talked a bunch. Obviously, after the whole fight went down... having a trained child-super therapist along was probably a good thing," I nodded along to emphasize the last bit, then got back to business with Reaver's current status, "So now, I'm having to essentially train Reaver in modern morals and ethics, which is why I'm carrying it around with me. I don't really have much use for weapons, so I'm not sure where it goes from here, but I want to see the powers that Reaver took put to the use they were intended for by their respective heroes, to help those that need it, so something of them continues to live on through service."

There was applause, "An absolutely stunning story, Marcus. Let me ask you, outside of this whole thing, what are you working on now?"

"Ooh, I got to go to my first high school dance with my girlfriend. I have a girlfriend! She's really pretty."

Why did I hear someone grumble angrily about me having a girlfriend?! People are weird, "Um, working on some mods for Cities: Skylines and I've been learning coding, uh... let's see, learned Spanish, Japanese, and I'm working on Italian. Next, I'm thinking Gaelic, since I'm Irish. Got into parkour, some paintball... Oh, yeah, and I officially started my own company! Totally spaced on that one."

She was silently laughing into her hand for a moment, "Oh, just a little light incorporating on the side, huh?"

The interview went great, and it managed to generally go over well. From there, we talked about dating as a super, the goals of McKenna Solutions (I left out the mall plan.), my company, and some of the other various stuff I was into, and I got some stuff in about Scouting and how much I loved it. It was a pretty intense hour, but I was so drained by the time I got back home. Hours upon hours of plane travel, just for a one-hour interview. Ugh.

Back home, the H.A.A. was pretty pissed with me on a number of levels. The whole plan had been basically me flouting their authority with malice of forethought, but on the other side of that, they couldn't really do much about it. There were hundreds of hours of video on the internet showing me fighting a hero-killer. Other heroes were pretty much universally on my side here, with the rare exception here or there that didn't really care, or were sticklers for the rules and regs.

Mr. Palazzi wasn't *super* thrilled with me right now, since part of the plan I'd used boiled down to 'I gave your daughter a firearm and had her fire it at a psychotic super-clown wielding a magical scythe while I was flat on my ass' followed by 'then I grabbed the magic sentient weapon, and my only backup plan to that was to give another fourteen-year-old a firearm and tell him to shoot me with it if I fucked up'. He did, however, understand his daughter well enough to know that she absolutely wouldn't bother with any order to stay away from me. Or, as he put it, grumbling, "Might as well hang a giant LED sign pointing to you with the words 'free chocolate' on it."

Partly because the Huskies had been so far ahead, and partly because one member of the Huskies *did* help take down a supervillain, the Ducks opted to let it be a win for the Huskies. Friday's dance was moved to Saturday, and school was canceled for Friday. Again, pretty sure that was a solid plan. Mr. Palazzi laughed hysterically when he saw my reaction to Aimee's dress for the dance, angry with me or not, "If I didn't have video evidence of you fighting that thing, I'd never believe it."

I was six-foot-three now, but the growth had stopped. The rest of the 1% still seemed to be working, so I went by Dr. Kim's office at OHSU, just to make sure things were okay. He explained that generally speaking, genetics is a major factor in height and can be affected by things like nutrition and such, but to think of DNA like a blueprint. The lack of further growth just meant that, as far as the body was concerned, I had finished with that part of puberty's construction system. At least I could finally settle into a single size of clothes. The constant re-shopping of my wardrobe was seriously getting on my last nerve.

In other news, I had to replace pretty much my entire uniform for Scouts. Hadn't noticed until I was in the bathroom at Shari's, but yeah, Scout uniforms aren't really built for advanced gymnastics and combat. I'd torn the pants, the shirt, and even the damn belt had even gotten f'ed up. Even my shoes and socks were shredded from the movements and severity of the fight. Only the neckerchief and cap survived, and Aimee hadn't been kidding. She was now wearing that thing around school, so I ordered a new one, which I'm still breaking in, but if I'm honest, I really like her wearing my hat. Mom made a case for my dead uniform, sort of a trophy of the fight. She thought I'd looked 'dashing'. I started on designs for an actual super-suit, cause I'm not showing up in that again. Ever seen someone look like a badass taking off a Boy Scout neckerchief? Yeah, I've watched the video, and neither have I.

Now, interestingly, I *did* sort of skip over a thing in the interview. So, in the week leading up to the fight, I realized that trying to 'multi-task' learning really didn't work anywhere near as well as focus learning. Essentially, multi-tasking just meant doing a bunch of stuff less well than you would if you were focusing on any one thing. Yeah, it worked for general knowledge, but for more advanced stuff, it was better if I actually focused. So if, just hypothetically mind, I wanted to learn to max out day trading on the stock market, it would be vastly faster to just focus on that by itself. In completely unrelated news, Wall Street is becoming a little anxious about shorting stocks this week for some reason. Huh, weird coincidence.