Chapter 59: High on Life, Part 1

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The city of Kaleidoscope was in ruins. It had been like this for almost two months, and it would continue for a long time, if it ever recovered. Where restoration efforts could be seen, it was not to make it habitable again for humans. The skeletons of buildings had been reclaimed by vegetation, darkness, humidity, and rats. But also by creatures that didn't have two or four legs.

Yes, Kaleidoscope, once a stronghold in the fight against the threat from beyond the stars, was now a city of Lunar Remnants. Most people hadn't figured out how to transform back, which Sylvester almost appreciated. If it were that simple, considering the number of avoidable deaths throughout his career, it would have been too much for him.

Things could change overnight. Life kept spinning. Sylvester had been doing more or less the same for ten years, but suddenly he had become a perfect example of how much paradigms could shift. He could hardly believe everything that had happened recently, how much the perspective of things had changed.

He was observing the city from one of the highest points. Not flying, although he had plenty of energy. He had reached the top of a building, still standing, although bent. Before the catastrophe, it had been average. Now it was among the tallest, technically.

After reaching the top, flying, he had folded his wings and remained there, observing.

Until now. Sylvester ran forward, jumped. His hands closed around the zip line, gripping tightly. He slid down the zip line quickly. There were many of these things in the city, for his benefit and others like him. A fast way to get anywhere, avoiding traffic.

Now there were more than ever, not the other way around. The teams didn't even have to install them manually. They dropped them from planes, and then the machine followed its program. Seeking the best configuration, connecting with those nearby. Clinging to the strongest grip points they could find. It was a great invention.

As he slid down the zip line, Sylvester glanced below.

He could see the Lunar Remnants scurrying around. They, naturally, didn't look at him with friendly eyes either. He was the greatest killer of their kind in history, after all. But they wouldn't do anything. They knew he could face the entire city and win, so they couldn't do anything. Besides, Kaleidoscope remained their city, against all odds.

Not everyone was happy with that, however, but the people who really made the decisions were aware of what was at stake now. They would never pass the necessary laws and regulations. They would never press the button, launching a nuclear bomb or ten over the ruins of Kaleidoscope. Such efforts would get nowhere.

Politicians were nothing more than puppets. Even the presidents. They always had been, and that wouldn't change. The parliament was nothing more than the stage where they acted.

One would think that the anger of the city's inhabitants would be mainly directed at Heather, the person who had transformed them in the first place.

It wasn't. Quite the opposite, they not only tolerated her, they adored her. It was so strange that she had asked Heather about it once.

"Have you brainwashed them?"

"Something like that."

She had admitted it so casually. Impassive as always. Was she, or was it just that she felt things differently? Because, after all, she wasn't a human being. She wasn't even used to wearing clothes yet.

"That goes against our agreement. I told you we would fight together as long as you were an ally of humanity. I know it would harm our chances of survival, but if you try..."

"Relax, man. I said something like that, not that I had literally brainwashed them. I transformed them, so I'm like their mother, I guess. They instinctively understand me. They need me, I suppose. I don't know how to explain it. In any case, it's not something I can change or turn off. They're not so different from any human in that respect."

"Not so different?"

"Of course. You need someone to watch over and take care of you so much that you've invented a Heavenly Father and Mother, always present."

He could almost hear the capital letter in the way she emphasized those words.

"I guess," was all he said then.

Sylvester reached the end of the zip line. From there, he took another one, and another. Until he reached his destination. The last zip line he took pointed to the ground. Sylvester landed on his knees on the grass.

There was a portal in front of him, encapsulated in a bubble. He could see things moving on the other side. Strange, alien things, but they hadn't tried anything yet. There should have been two portals, but when Román's universe and the others had died, the portal had disappeared without a trace as a consequence. There really was nothing left.

In fact, Sylvester remembered his recent battles. What he had suffered against that giant robot and the ambush from the invisible, imperceptible enemy. But with each passing day, it became harder for him to remember their faces, their names, the specific details.

It seemed an unnatural effort to remember them. So it seemed that soon there would really be nothing left, not even memories. The enemy had expressed that wish before dying, at least to remain in the memories of their enemies. Cynthia had told him. But life was cruel. He wasn't even going to fulfill such a simple wish.

Something came out of the bushes. No, someone. She had a human appearance, but clearly, she was not a syndicate agent. You could tell just by watching how she moved.

The woman approached him. Oh, from the description he had been given, this was Elizabeth who had tried to help Cynthia and Ryan when they all assaulted the island. That day seemed distant, as if years had passed since then and not just months. So she had survived the disaster, the invasion of two worlds. Huh.

"What do you want?" Sylvester asked.

"Getting straight to the point, huh? I like it. I just want to make sure you're not here to chop off my head. I did try to help. I was just working with information."

"Yeah. Mysterious huge, shiny stones, making the vegetation around them die and the environment change. I perfectly understand why you thought they were for a sinister purpose instead of the truth."

"The truth?"

"A defense system. If it had been so easy to realize that Heather was not necessarily against humanity, I would be more angry with myself for not seeing it. She had been against humanity. The first thing she had told him was that the time of humanity had come to an end. He remembered it like it was yesterday. It still echoed in his ears. She had simply changed her mind after seeing that both had bigger problems. It would be foolish to fight among themselves when there were already hundreds of worlds wanting to exterminate them to ensure their survival."

"Is that all?" Sylvester asked.

"Yes. I'm not a complicated girl. I just want to eat and live in peace."

Sylvester frowned.

"Supplies will continue to arrive regularly. Peace, I can't promise you. Neither can anyone. As long as you don't become an enemy of humanity, I won't have to chop off your head, as you said."

"I know I don't stand a chance against you. I barely escaped from that hotel alive."

"So you're one of those Parasites. You're not the woman; you have control of her body. Why would you tell me that, giving me a reason to kill you? Stupid."

"Hey, hey, calm down." The thing raised its arms from its head in submission. "It's not that. It's not what you think. She, Elizabeth, agrees with this. And we actually share control of the body. If she's not in control more often, it's because I don't want her to be."

Sylvester took a step forward.

"I told you to calm down."

"Give me a reason to believe you, quickly."

That's what she did. The behavior and body language of the person in front of him changed in the blink of an eye. She had been scared before, but now she couldn't even look him in the eyes, shrinking into herself. Acting like a civilian, not like a monster that fed on other human beings.

"Mr. Sylvester, please..."

It wasn't an act. It wasn't possible for her to perform such a perfect act to deceive him. Now she was talking to a different person. That is, to the person.

"Why would you do that? Give her control of your body, coexist with...?" He furrowed his brow even more. The words to finish that sentence had been choking him. He didn't want to finish it. Or rather, he couldn't? "I don't understand."

"I feel... safe."

"Before she entered my life, I was just a... victim. A victim of my parents, first. Then of my husband."

"Oh."

He couldn't understand, couldn't even imagine what it would be like to live that way. But those four words had told him enough. She was simply traumatized, that's all. The Parasite was like a security blanket to cling to.

It seemed absurdly twisted, insane, but in reality, it was very simple.

"I'm sorry."

Elizabeth shook her head.

"I brought it on myself."

"No, that's not true."

"You can't tell me what's true or not. I'm saying I brought it on myself, not that I deserved it. I'm not that bad. I brought it on myself, with my bad decisions. There were so many times when I chose to stay, give him another chance, or make excuses for him. I didn't deserve it, but I brought it on myself. That's the problem with life. The biggest obstacle. You get what you look for, not what you wish for, all the time."

Sylvester looked away. The pain in her eyes made him uncomfortable.

The emptiness in her dark eyes seemed capable of engulfing him and leaving nothing behind.

"And now, are you happy? Is that how you are?"

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to be happy again," Elizabeth replied without hesitation. "But I'm sure, at least. At peace. Maybe that's all anyone can ask for."

"Maybe." He didn't know what to say. Not anymore.

"Do you understand now? Am I no longer a mistake to correct in your eyes?"

"I... I'll leave you alone, I promise. As long as..."

"I have her under control. We only killed a monster."

Her husband? Yes, surely her husband. There was no need to check the records.

"Okay."

"It's been... good seeing a hero up close. You're not like I imagined."

He looked at her eyes again.

"How did you imagine me?"

"Bigger than life and ten times tougher."

Sylvester smiled ironically.

"Maybe I was like that, once, but now I have a better perspective."

"Of what?"

"People just trying to do the best they can. That's all we can do and all we can ask of anyone."

"True. It's been a pleasure meeting you."

"The same goes for me." Surprisingly.

The woman disappeared back into the forest, among the bushes. To live her life and do the best she could. Like everyone else. For his part, Sylvester returned his gaze to the portal in front of him. Floating ominously in the air.

Considering their very bad luck, it was surprising that there had been no other invasion with the door still open. Thank God for small miracles. Or whoever the hell was watching. There was a higher existence, clearly; only something like that could orchestrate this death game. But it wasn't the benevolent deity that Ryan still believed in.

The most terrifying thought was that all of this was their version of benevolence. Some kind of universal clearing, a necessary process. Something that might have repeated a thousand times before this and would repeat many times after. Yeah. He tried not to think about that at all.

Better to focus on things he could do something about, the enemies he could actually hit. Otherwise, he would go crazy. Or crazier than he already was, what the hell did he know? He wasn't a good judge of anything.

Sylvester was the first to arrive, but not the last. Heather arrived approximately twenty minutes later, flying, of course. She landed beside him without saying anything. There was nothing to say.

They waited. Not long after, a helicopter arrived. The doors opened, revealing the machine inside. The portal machine. It was as good a name as any. The real question was whether it would work.

They lifted the bubble. Among three dozen people, they dragged the machine, placing it in position. Sylvester or Heather could have done it without help, but neither of them moved from where they were. Of course, Cynthia and Ryan had arrived in that helicopter. They didn't exchange words, just looks. This was a decisive moment in human history.

If they failed, in the end, they wouldn't have a history. They wouldn't have a damn thing. At best, they would be a footnote in the survivor's history. At best. The universe that would eventually end them didn't have to be the ultimate winner.

And even then, they might not even become a footnote in the history books if they were forgotten before anyone could write it down. Would even the written material, the photos last? Sylvester thought unnecessarily. Or would it be erased like everything else?

He shook his head. He had to focus. He hadn't slept much, as usual, but all the more reason.

They started the machine. Sylvester waited with bated breath. A white energy shot out of the cannon, so bright it could blind. Sylvester had to squint, but he saw enough even before the energy disappeared. The portal had been successfully closed. One less thing to worry about.

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After receiving the "prize," this was the first thing everyone had thought about – not opening a portal to another universe to attack, but to take proactive action, for a change.

"Something had to go right," Ryan said. At this point, he should have learned not to tempt fate. Nothing happened, though. Not yet.

"I wouldn't sing victory so quickly," Cynthia said. That. Exactly that.

The machine worked. They had managed to close the last portal, at least slowing down a second attack from those monsters, but it was only the first step. The idea was to mount an offensive. To attack, not just react. If they got caught up in the enemies' rhythm, they would wear them down slowly. The only possible outcome would be defeat and annihilation.

That's why the best defense was a good offense.

They would test step two right here and right now. There was no time to celebrate. They started the machine again, but this time to do just the opposite. It worked. It opened a portal to a world, and that was what mattered. There probably wasn't any chance to go wrong; all worlds would be involved in this.

What could be seen on the other side of the portal? Not much, to be honest. Clouds. Mountain peaks that looked like giants. Since they could only see a portion, Sylvester had no sense of scale.

But, one way or another, it was a success. The engineers had managed to assemble it, and it worked. He knew, in theory, it was just following the plans. In theory. But they didn't have anything like that available in their world; it was something they feared they weren't prepared for yet.

So it was a relief to see that the effort had paid off.

How many worlds would be involved in this war? Hundreds, thousands? Attacking the worlds one by one was not much better than waiting to be attacked and dealing with the attackers. It was a war of attrition anyway, on an unimaginable scale. But... It was the best they could do. It would have to be enough, for now.

Of course, he thought, this is only step two. Gradually, they could achieve anything. Wasn't that a summary of human history? The hairless monkeys that came down from the trees. Who would have imagined they would reshape the world in their image?

The portal machine wasn't the only thing that had to arrive. The last "gift" was an aircraft for traveling through the strange and hostile world, modeled like one of the ancient ships. Sails and all, although only decorative. In the back, they installed the portal machine, in case they needed to make a quick escape, and passing through the previously opened portal wasn't enough. Of course, the machine here was not the only one. They were striving to produce many of them, just in case.

It always paid to be cautious.

And they weren't going to do this alone.

Groups of agents approached them, already aboard the ship-shaped aircraft. Among them, two stood out. Adam, the man they had seen in the news, the one who saved people from that ship. The second person made herself known, practically throwing herself at him.

"My name is Emerald. It's an honor to work with you."

"I see. Thank you," he replied, feeling a bit stupid. Admiration was unpleasant, but it was also challenging to handle. He was well aware that he wasn't someone to admire. Even if he wanted to be. Even if he pretended to be.

As Elizabeth said, he thought, we get what we seek. Not what we want. I've sought both.

Emerald didn't seem to think he had said anything stupid. Her smile widened, and she blushed a bit, shaking his hand vigorously. Well, at least she had spirit; that couldn't be denied. It was important for doing her job well and for surviving. Having spirit.

Do I have it?

He supposed he did. Not a pure one, but he wouldn't be frustrated because Heather surpassed him in every way if he had lost even his spirit.

They finally set off. A single aircraft, not a fleet. They were on a reconnaissance mission, not at war. Not yet. In theory, it should be as simple as exploring the planet, looking for large population centers, and quickly fleeing with the machine if necessary. Something simple, with little risk, where ideally, he wouldn't have to do much.

In ideal circumstances, but when were they ideal? In theory, but when did plans survive contact with the enemy? Sylvester leaned forward, resting his hands on the railing. He felt the wind on his face.

The biggest problem was the Champions. Maybe they could kill regular residents easily, but the Champions would be another story. They had to assume they were as strong as them, probably stronger. Plus, they couldn't kill everyone on the planet. It was neither practical nor feasible. But they still lacked a way to find the Champions before acting. It would be easier if they could act as assassins instead of sounding the drums of war.

"What are you thinking, sir?" Emerald had decided to join him on the deck. Eager, as if she believed that every word coming out of his mouth would be a pearl of wisdom that would leave her in awe. It would make him feel stupid again, but he had no good answer.

Or at least a response beyond the obvious.

"I hope nothing happens," Sylvester said.

"That makes sense. After all, you're so... noble," she replied.

Sylvester tried not to grimace. Noble? If only she could see me through your eyes. Life would be easier.

"Noble?" he questioned.

"Yes. I'm sure you didn't see me, but I was in the square on the day that thing was born. And I saw you. I saw you fight."

"Sorry, I don't see how that's relevant."

"It became obvious that you've been holding back all this time. You wouldn't go so far as to endanger innocents just for that, but I saw that you were holding back. Even that katana is a way to do it. You could do so much more by throwing it away, using your body as a weapon, your powers from the rumors. It must feel like living in a world made of glass. Always having to be careful because with a slight deviation, you could kill dozens of people at once and cause great destruction."

Had she paused to take a breath? He wasn't really sure.

"Does that make me noble?" he asked.

"Of course. You don't care about what they whisper behind your back, the hatred. You allow them to feel bigger than they are. Everyone knows you're powerful, but if they saw what you're truly capable of, they wouldn't be able to say a word."

He wished he could say she was right. It would be a good thing, though exaggerating to call it noble. But she wasn't right. In most situations, he restrained himself for fear of collateral damage. When he didn't, it was more for public relations than altruistic reasons. People had to look up and see a savior, a hero. Not a monster who could wipe them off the map. Not a being who could hardly be called human.

That was it.

He wished things were different, but that was it. She was wrong, but she said it with such certainty, as if she knew him. This was the first time they spoke. But what could or should he say now? "You're completely wrong? I'm not someone to admire?"

Sylvester hated this. He didn't know what to say or when to say it. Lack of practice, and when circumstances pushed him to practice, it was always easier to stay silent. A vicious circle.

"Oh, sorry. I got sidetracked," she quickly interjected, saving him from having to respond.

"It's okay. It's nice to know someone sees me in a positive light," she continued.

"I don't want anything bad to happen, of course."

"But?"

"But I partly want to see you in action." There it was. "I want to fight by your side, even though you don't need me. Even though you don't need anyone. That's why I volunteered for the mission."

"Did you do that?"

"Yes. I wouldn't lie to you, never, about anything. Seriously."

"It's not that. I just didn't think they had to ask for volunteers."

"Oh, I understand. I understand. I'm sorry." She blushed even more. It would be easy to misinterpret and think she was in love with him or something, but that wasn't the case. He believed she would act the same way even if Sylvester had been a woman. He supposed she had just made a strong impression on her.

"Don't worry. I was just saying, you know."

"I think," she replied, very serious.

Maybe that hadn't been the best thing to say. He felt more and more uncomfortable, in any case. Even more so because she seemed not to notice it at all, strangely, instead of the other way around. Did it matter that he was messing up even if she didn't realize it? Clearly, it did to him, as he couldn't relax. Ironic that I’m asking her to do that, he thought.

What should he do now? Tell her the truth, shatter her hopes? And for what? Would it change anything for the better? The woman would still be on a dangerous mission for which she had volunteered based on premature conclusions about him.

He decided to leave her be. She would learn the truth on her own, that he wasn't as good as she thought, if she stayed by his side long enough anyway.

Sylvester put a hand on Emerald's shoulder, squeezing.

"What I meant to say is that I'm glad to have met you," he said. The same phrase he had used with Elizabeth, more or less. He felt stupid again, although she hadn't been present for that conversation. Even worse, he felt insincere. That was nonsense too. He was being sincere, he knew. "So you don't have to worry..."

"I understand. Thank you."

Did she understand? Well, good for her, because he wasn't sure he did. He had been unable to finish the sentence, futilely searching for the right words, although she had probably interpreted it differently. Despite everything, maybe she did understand. Maybe this was one of those things that didn't need words. That, in any case, were so small. So prone to misunderstandings. He didn't like them.

"You're welcome," he replied.

Immediately afterward, Sylvester left the deck, entering the aircraft. It didn't take long to find Heather. As expected, she was alone. The others had accepted her presence, but they still avoided her whenever possible. She didn't seem to give a damn. He wondered if she had ever seemed to care about anything, however small.

Maybe during their fight in the blood-soaked square, crossing the night with the help of dark wings. Maybe when he baptized her as Heather. Maybe... Well, it didn't matter.

Heather wasn't naked. She wore knee-high stockings, a black pleated skirt, and a white dress shirt with two convenient holes in the back for her wings. It felt a bit out of place, like something a teenager would wear, but she had chosen it herself. Who was he to argue?

Technically, Heather was a few months old, but it didn't matter. First, because she didn't act like a baby. She wasn't human, not remotely normal. Second, because humans perceived the world mainly through sight. It was impossible to connect what he knew about her and the time of her birth with what his eyes told him.

She appeared to be his age, if not older. To the point where comparing the age of someone made of 'black glass' with a human seemed irrelevant. It was as if she was mocking him. But what could he do, lie to himself, pretend she was human where it mattered? The fact was, they didn't belong to the same species.

Anyway, Heather was looking out one of the windows. But he had no doubt she had sensed his arrival.

"I see you have a groupie now."

That was the only thing that surprised her.

"How did you find out?" It's not that it bothered him. Well, it was a bit embarrassing, but Emerald wasn't exactly subtle. The whole ship would find out sooner or later. But this quickly? Seriously, how?

Heather shrugged, almost as if she had heard his thoughts.

"I have good ears."

"It shows. Damn."

"Does it bother you?"

"Not really, but I'm not proud either."

"What's wrong with being adored? Still, she's right. She believes you're powerful, a god among men. Thinks you're kind and patient. Where is she wrong?"

"First off, I'm not a god, I'm an unlucky bastard who won the lottery for a ticket to an interdimensional death battle. And I'm not as good or patient as she thinks."

"It doesn't matter because you are. So, not that good? Do you think it's a matter of degrees? How good and patient do you have to be before she's allowed to worship you for it?"

Sylvester frowned, lips pursed. The conversation had shifted from uncomfortable to perhaps even worse.

"You skipped a point."

"Do you want me to argue about why you don't like it? I think your actions speak for themselves in that. You could have told her what you see as the truth. Crushed her hopes and expectations."

"I... It's not like I enjoy it. It's just that, what would I gain from that? It would only hurt her. No benefit. I can endure some discomfort if having a too-good opinion of me helps her cope with all this."

"So it's true? You don't like it? She's an attractive girl, I think."

"You thought...? No!" He raised his voice a bit too much, maybe. He didn't want to draw attention.

"You talk as if she's ten or twenty years younger."

Emerald was of legal age. She had to be to become a Union agent. And she didn't seem younger than Cynthia, who was almost her age. But...

"Still, it would feel like I'm taking advantage of her, considering how she sees me."

"Pity."

"Pity?"

"I wouldn't mind if you wanted to take her. I can't give you that, after all. Nothing between the legs. I guess I could improvise, but it doesn't seem very feasible."

What?

"It's not that I want to 'take' Emerald, but I'm not sure why you're talking as if I need your permission. As if we're in a relationship, talking about opening her up."

Had Heather misunderstood something he had said or done?

"We're not, but I guess I see it as inevitable, sooner or later."

"Inevitable."

"Yes." She turned her head to look him in the eyes for the first time since the beginning of the conversation. "Are you that surprised? We're alone in the universe. All universes, maybe. There's no one like us, and living beings aren't good at being alone. Not really, even though they want to pretend."

"That might have been true when we met. Being alone in the universe. But Cynthia is like us."

This conversation was surreal. He couldn't believe it was happening.

Heather shook her head.

"No. She may have powers, but she's not like us. She's a human. Plus, I'm not into women."

Was that a joke? True, but was it also her way of adding a bit of humor to the situation? Difficult. All of this was damn difficult. He wished he had stayed asleep in his cabin.

He examined her closely. Given the tone of the conversation, she might misinterpret things, but it seemed like she had been doing it for a while anyway.

He thought of her as a woman, but that was mostly because of the way she saw herself. At first, she had called herself a princess, not a prince, after all. And she had accepted the name Heather without protesting. But she had nothing between her legs. She had no breasts. Not that she had many curves either. Many women didn't, of course.

The point was that he had always taken her at her word, basically. There was something feminine about her eyelashes, her facial features, and the shape of her face, but it could have been the face of a young, slightly effeminate man.

Heather was a woman because that's how she considered herself, and he had always thought of her as a woman, but there weren't many traces of it. To put it in a way.

He didn't know where he was going with this. Maybe he was considering if he could be attracted to her? Seriously considering her for a relationship? Maybe. Maybe not.

Today was turning out to be a very confusing day.

"Heather..."

After Cynthia, he could mention the Lunar Remnants, but that would be unfair on many levels.

Yes, he had initially known her as Lunar Princess.

But she had been a newborn, as peculiar as it might be, and had simply clung to the first thing she found.

A role, albeit a false one.

She could transform people into Lunar Remnants, and her creations were inclined to believe and obey her, but at the same time, they couldn't be more different and separate. Heather wasn't a Lunar Remnant, and there was no special reason for the existence of those creatures. They were an accident for which they still had no details. Maybe they would never have them, but Sylvester was satisfied with his hypothesis. Well, it was more Heather's hypothesis than his.

She approached.

Suddenly she came so close that her shoes brushed his. From that position, she brought her face even closer, without looking away. Sylvester remained frozen. Was she really going to...?

Nothing happened. After a while, she pulled back, intertwining her hands behind her back.

"Maybe I did misinterpret some things."

Having said that, she turned around and went back to her spot to look out. He gained nothing from this conversation. He was more nervous than before, more confused. One thing was clear, Heather had declared the conversation over. It was a relief, but also disappointing, nonetheless.

What a mess, he thought, shaking his head. What a damn mess.

He should have ended a personal conversation as soon as he saw signs, given the circumstances. It was too easy for things to go wrong, to end up hurting feelings or agitating people. Probably both. But of course, hindsight was always too easy.

He didn't know what to think about Emerald now, and he didn't know what to think about Heather, whom he thought he knew.

Sylvester walked away, sighing to himself.

People were complicated. A married couple could spend a lifetime together and not know everything about each other. The submerged part of the iceberg was always larger. But knowing this didn't make it any easier.

Now... Now, he needed a distraction.

No one would offer to train with him given the circumstances, and regular agents wouldn't provide much of a workout. He could rule out the more physical ways of burning off stress. He briefly thought about Emerald, about what Heather had suggested. I don't want that. And she doesn't either, she doesn't see me that way.

That's exactly what he should have told Heather. In his defense, he had been caught off guard. He still felt off balance. Well, hindsight, again.

Emerald wasn't an option he wanted to pursue, even if she was willing.

After the bombs Heather had dropped, he wasn't sure he could have a safe conversation with Cynthia or Ryan. So, what was left?

Well, it was clear.

"Story of my life."

Sylvester went back to the deck as if escaping from Heather. Well, he could erase the how, who would he be fooling? He had half expected to run into Cynthia or Ryan, as if he had to go through all his teammates. The close ones, at least.

Empty. What a relief, seriously.

Of course, they could be watching him from the cockpit, but as long as they didn't bother him, it was as if they weren't there.

After a while, the ship stopped. They had spotted a population center at last. The buildings were as tall as the old skyscrapers, if not taller. It seemed to be a humanoid city, though not necessarily human. What kind of being would inhabit there?

Like Roman and the others, basically human but larger? Star Trek-type aliens, who were basically only different from humans in the color of their makeup, or stranger things? In any case, they were all his enemies. It was good to have spotted such an advanced population center.

It meant, among other things, that they were dealing with a civilization, not scattered tribes in caves and makeshift tents. In a sense, it was better this way because if they weren't organized, it would be practically impossible to find the chosen Champions. They would have to exterminate the planet, one by one, and hope to get lucky. Which would take too long, even if it were easy. And it wouldn't be. No matter how much they were his enemies, it wouldn't be.

Because no one could handle a massacre on that scale without breaking down.

No, genocide, he thought as he looked down from the clouds at that city whose name he didn't know, full of lives unknown to him too. It would be genocide. Let's call things by their names, without softening it.

We did one already, though not directly. We saw it through to the end.

It almost tore me apart, but it was only the beginning. What we'll do here won't be the end. Far from it.

High on Life, Part 1: FIN