I’m pretty sure I’m a bad person.

Oh, sorry, I should back up a little. I’m Ace Lustres. I was born on, no wait, that’s too far back isn’t it?

Let’s go back to when I think I became a bad person. It happened a couple of weeks back when everything went to hell. I mean, I may have been a bad person before that, but now I’m confident I am.

In my defense, it’s not my fault. You have to adapt to the times to survive; bad times mean I gotta be bad. That makes it okay, right? Yeah, probably not.

I felt a tapping on my shoulder.

“Hey, your internal monologue is leaking again.”

My eyes blinked open. “How much you hear?”

Raya shrugged. “Enough.”

I lurched forward in my seat and hung my head down in shame. Raya was an older woman--at least compared to me. When I got dragged into this whole thing, Raya taught me to keep my head low and follow orders. In a lot of ways, it was just like school: do what you’re told, and everything will be alright.

Raya tugged on my shirt’s collar, pulling me upright. “No time for mopping, we’re here.”

The armored van we were all in came to an abrupt stop. We all jostled around in our seats; since there were a lot of us crowded together, we would always bump into each other. Unlike other scavenger groups, ours was pretty low on the totem pole. The fact that we had one van at all was a miracle.

Supposedly our leader, Vescent, managed to snatch it on his way out of the Underworld. The rumor was that he was held on one of the higher floors, so he was one of the first to get out when the gates to the Underworld opened. Without much competition, he managed to snatch a van and get out quickly.

The back door to the van swung open. Vescent stood their arms outstretched as if to embrace us. What a joke.

“Alright droplets, you know the drill,” he said. “We’ve only got limited time so …”

I’ve heard this speech so many times that I can just tune it out. All it is is made-up justification for our actions. I don’t need justification or to be lied to and be told what I’m doing is right. I know it’s wrong, but what other choice do I have? To die? In a state of anarchy when all society has crumbled you go back to the law of nature: survival above all else. That’s not evil, that’s just survival. Yeah, sorry, but I’m only interested in myself, so I’ll trample on whoever if it means I get to live.

We all piled out of the van a few blocks down from our target, Trikka Hospital. Raya got an easy job. She stayed behind in the van, far away from the violence, and once Vescent gave the signal, all she had to do was pick us up--normally Vescent drives, but he’d be coming in with us.

Downtown streets were always the worst. Even though it was far away from the Underworld, it was the first place all its denizens came, once they were let loose. The only saving grace was that there wasn’t one kingpin yet, so scavengers like us could slip through the chaos.

As we all marched to the hospital the urge to run came back. I thought if I could slip to the back of the group, and make a break for it, it could all work. Maybe that’s what the last couple of guys thought before their backs were riddled with icicles.

It’s crazy how desensitized to death I’ve become. I played video games and watched movies, but in those, you don’t feel the body go cold. There’s a lot more blood too.

In the media they make death look heroic, epic, and tragic, but in real life, it’s remarkably dull. It’s just boom! Then they’re gone. The people who do cling to life long enough to maybe have a chance at last words are too busy choking on their blood to croak some out. I bet my final words would suck since I’m pretty bad under pressure. Still, I wonder what they would be.

I nearly slammed into the guy in front of me, as everyone came to a stop. I was so lost in thought, staring at the ground that I hadn’t realized we had reached our destination.

“Wait here,” Vescent instructed.

He marched inside with nothing but a plastic jug of water on his back, meanwhile, we all had guns. In games, they say the strongest players wear the least armor, because why bother defending yourself if you’re never gonna get hit; that’s what Vescent reminds me of. An unstoppable force, so far above you that you struggle to believe you’re even playing the same game. You know, now that I think about it, life might be the worst-designed, and most unbalanced game ever; it’s pretty messed up that everyone has to play it.

Vescent gleefully kicked down the glass hospital door, shattering it into pieces, and announcing his presence to everyone inside. There were only two guards on the first floor, and both had guns; Vescent had got a tip that an important shipment of medicine was coming in, and the hospital sent its security to escort it, hence why we were here today.

They both turned to fire, and as they did the jug of water on Vescent’s back ruptured. The water from it shifted in front of him and froze into a thick wall of ice that blocked all the bullets.

I wonder what was going through those guards’ heads. It’s obvious the bullets can't break through the ice. Do they hope that that will magically change? No, that’s impossible. Miracles don’t happen in the real world, only disasters. Still, I think they choose to believe in the impossible, because if they don’t, then the only option is to acknowledge how hopeless it all is for people like us.

Eventually, the two guards ran out of ammo. Vescent split the wall in two, and each half skated along the ground. They slammed into the guards and pinned them to the wall. With a flick of Vescent’s fingers, spikes protruded from the walls of ice, impaling the guards.

The guards struggled, and cried for help, while everyone inside cowered in fear. Us droplets just stood outside, frozen in silence, waiting for the screams to stop.

“There’s a lot of blood in the human body,” Vescent said, turning to us. “We can’t be waiting for these guys to bleed out. Get in here!”

Everyone rushed in, but I was still frozen. What Vescent just said, he said it so casually, as if he was stating a fact about animals he read in a book.

The guards' screaming quieted. Vescent recalled the walls to his side and melded them into a throne of ice. As he sat in the seat, dead center of the hospital, he looked around at everyone cowering.

Both of us were taking in the same scene. Two men dead, several hundred people cowering, guns held with shaky hands pointed at innocents, and life-saving medicine being taken in troves like candy. Whereas Vescent grinned, I just stood there, still yet to have moved.

“Hey, you,” Vescent called out.

I turned to see he was staring me directly in the eyes--this was the first time he had ever properly looked at me.

“Don’t freeze droplets, keep flowing, and get moving,” Vescent ordered.

What makes a god? If it’s their power, and avatars have the power of gods--some literally--then wouldn’t that make them gods. If so, then it would go against the laws of nature for me, a mere human, to disobey a god. After all, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t rebel against the gods; otherwise, they’d kill me, and what good am I, if I’m dead?

I took off running into the hospital. Immediately I headed for the stairs, and I began to race up them. I thought, maybe I’ll just keep climbing stairs, and hide on the roof. That way I wouldn’t have to hurt anybody. But what if they check my bag? Then they’ll know I didn’t take anything.

Well, what if when I got to the roof I kept running until I ran out of the roof? Wouldn’t taking away a bad thing be good? Could I do something good, even after everything I’ve done?

“HELP!” somebody screamed.

I took off running toward the scream. I’m not sure why. It felt like my legs moved on their own.

By the time I finally managed to regain control over my legs, I was staring down the barrel of a gun. A doctor stood above somebody I faintly recognized, another droplet I presumed. I stood at the doorway gazing into a room with several people, men, women, and children huddling in fear.

My hands jumped in the air.

“Drop the gun!” the doctor yelled. “Slowly!”

At a snail's pace, I reached for my gun and took it off the strap around my chest. As I placed it on the ground, I heard a scream of pain. I glanced up to see the doctor clutching his chest.

He had dropped his gun on the ground, so I raced forward and kicked it out of the room. With no hesitation, I pointed my gun at the group of people who were now cowering in fear.

One of the nurses who had rushed to the doctor called out to me. “He’s having a heart attack, he needs his medication.”

No conscience, this isn’t the time to be acting up. Remember what Vescent said?

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Wait, remember what Vescent said? When did I start having such depraved thoughts? If there was any indication what I was doing was wrong, it was that I was using that psychopath’s logic to justify it.

I slung my gun over the shoulder and knelt next to the doctor. I glanced over to the doorway; luckily it didn’t sound like anyone else had heard the call for help.

“What does he need?” I asked.

“It’s called ambrosia, the bottle is gold with a purple lid,” the nurse replied.

I rummaged through the unconscious droplet’s satchel where he had been keeping the medicine he had stolen.

“Is this right?” I asked, holding a bottle that matched the nurse’s description.

“Yes,” she said hurriedly.

I handed the bottle to her. She took one of the tablets from it and popped it in the doctor’s mouth.

“Do you have any water?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, handing her my only bottle of water without a second thought.

As the doctor swallowed his medicine I caught a glimpse of his name: Cleveland Wilson. That’s right, these people have names. I mean of course they do. I guess I had sort of blocked it out; not knowing the name helps to dehumanize someone, and makes the job easier.

“Is he gonna be okay?” I inquired.

“He’ll need rest, but he should be fine,” the nurse replied.

At that moment, I had a choice to make. Even if it was in a minor way, I wanted to rebel against those so-called gods named avatars. I grabbed the satchel with all the stolen medicine and handed it to the nurse.

“Hide it,” I instructed.

Though wary, she hesitantly took the bag from me. This would be my one small act of defiance, a minor victory against an unbeatable foe.

I felt a buzzing in my back pocket. The radio I had was exploding with chatter. I held it up to hear what was going on.

“It’s the god killer!”

“Who?”

“Deicide, he’s here!”

“Who's he?”

“Do you live under a rock?!”

“Ain’t he just a vigilante?”

“Just a vigilante? He’s THE vigilante. He was the first one, and the reason they became so popular.”

“Hold on a second, you don’t mean that Deicide, right?”

“Hello, Jeff?”

“Oh no, he’s already in the building?”

“Why are y’all panicking? We have Vescent.”

“Vescent is nothing to this guy. He’s been taking on full-blown avatar organizations and crime families that were around before The Days of The Dead.

He took down Fortune’s Favored in one night! A scavenger group like the Droplets is nothing to him. ”

“Wait, isn’t he the guy that took out Pax, Goldie, Rowan, Squash, and Zait at the same time?”

“Wait I heard Zait was on level 3, that’s below Vescent’s level. Don’t tell me they were all that low. He beat them all at once?”

“And nearly destroyed half of the Edgelands in the process? Yeah, he’s him. Oh no, I hear footsteps.”

“Mark? Mark? No, no, no I’m getting out of here.”

Is this my punishment? I rebel one time, and I’m already punished this fast? At least let me enjoy it a little.

“Is everything alright?” the nurse asked.

“I have to go,” I said.

I tried to hurry out of the room, but the moment I stood up, and turned to the doorway, I faced the silhouette of a man in a trench coat. The sudden rush of fear caused me to slip, and fall. My gun went flying across the floor.

Deicide stopped it with his foot. He picked up the gun and smashed it over his leg. His eyes were heavy, whether with responsibility, guilt, anger, or bloodlust, I couldn’t tell--quite frankly it could’ve been all of them. A vortex of emotions, and a lifetime of challenges and mistakes, all of that was communicated in Deicide’s eyes.

Deicide’s gaze shifted over to the nurse, who was still holding the bag of medicine. Without thinking, I lept in front of her. This was my one win, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it away.

He slowly approached me, and my body began to tense up. Unlike before when it instinctively froze, now it wanted to run, but I refused. As he got close I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see Deicide, knelt on the ground, eye level with me. His gaze was lighter, and kinder than before as if to tell me “good job”--though they still carried that same weight as before.

Then, strangely, my clothes felt wet and warm. I looked down to see blood all over my shirt, and pants, but I wasn’t in pain. Then I saw blood-covered icicles piercing through Deicide’s chest.

His hand slipped off my shoulder as his body collapsed to the floor. As it did, it revealed Vescent standing in the doorway.

Vescent began to approach me, cackling. I crawled backward, but there was nowhere to run.

“Deicide huh?” Vescent said. “Means god killer, doesn’t it? But if I killed the god killer, then what does that make me?”

Vescent trampled over Deicide’s body, till he was standing over me. He lifted the icicles from Deicide’s chest and pointed them toward me. His eyes shifted from me to the people behind me. I threw myself over the people to protect them from an incoming attack, but none came.

Vescent clicked his tongue and shook his head. “World isn’t built for heroes.”

“Or villains.”

I saw the impossible. Deicide had just risen from the dead, his silhouette overshadowing Vescent.

Vescent spun around, hearing Deicide’s voice. He tried to strike at him with his icicles, but Deicide summoned a fiery red shield, and with one swing shattered each of the icicles.

Before Vescent could retaliate, Deicide grasped his face. Electricity sparked along his arm and coursed through Vescent as he screamed out in pain. After an initial jolt, Vescent tried to hit back but was immediately hit with another blast.

It took a third, but eventually, Vescent collapsed to his knees, Deicide still grasping his face. Suddenly, the sound of sirens could be heard from outside the hospital; we should have had more time before the FMPD showed up--though with Deicide here we were screwed anyway.

Within seconds of the sirens being heard, a blur of orange rushed into our room. When it came to a stop, a woman wearing an FMPD badge was standing in the room.

Upon her arrival, Deicide slammed Vescent’s head into the wall, cracking it as Vescent collapsed to the ground.

“Seems you did my job for me,” the officer remarked.

Deicide turned around to look at the officer. As their eyes met the officer’s expression shifted dramatically.

“Saxon?” she said.

Deicide pointed toward me. “Take care of him, he’s one of the good ones.”

I looked at the officer, as she looked at me. However, she immediately looked back to Deicide.

“Wait!” she called out.

I turned and was shocked to see that Deicide had completely vanished.

The officer let out a heavy sigh and hung her head. I could tell a million thoughts were running through her mind; despite that, she put on a smile on her face.

She leaned down and offered me a helping hand. “What’s your name?”

“Ace,” I replied.

“Lya,” she said, pulling me up. “Let’s get you outside.”

Once I got to the entrance I saw Raya, but she looked a little different. Her whole aesthetic was neater, and most importantly, she was wearing an FMPD badge.

“Raya?” I said. “What’s with the badge?”

“Ace, good to see you,” she said. “I was undercover, sorry about fooling you. Vescent had a lot of information, so I needed to get it out of him. Also, my name isn’t Raya, it’s Kuri, Kuri Shin.”

“Take him to the car,” Lya said.

“On it,” Kuri replied.

I made my way into the back of the police car and leaned against the door.

“You okay?” Kuri asked.

“Yeah, they were nice enough not to cuff me, though I doubt I pose much of a threat to people with superpowers,” I replied. “I saw them put some special handcuffs around Vescent.”

“They’re underworld cuffs, they sap an avatar’s power and prevent them from using their mythoi,” Kuri said.

“So with them, Vescent is as good as me,” I remarked.

Kuri turned around in her seat to face me. “With or without the cuffs, he isn’t as good as you.”

“Easy for you to say, with your special powers, if anything ever went wrong you would've been fine,” I replied.

“Actually, I don’t have a mythos,” Kuri said.

“Aren’t you in the FMPD?” I asked.

Kuri smirked. “Recently they started to see the value of us common folk. You don't need a mythos to help people. You never did.”

Lya entered the driver's seat.

“Hey, do you think I’m a bad person?” I asked. I don’t why I asked this, it just sorta slipped out. I knew I’d just get some answer that cheapened all the bad choices I had made and acted like they didn’t matter.

“I don’t know,” Lya replied.

Yeah, that figures. She just met me two seconds ago, and now I’m asking her to pass judgment on my moral character. Of course, she wouldn’t have any idea.

“I mean isn’t that up for you to decide?” Lya asked.

Ah yes, the old it’s never too late to do good, and you can always do good. This should be even better since it’s coming from someone who never knew what it’s like to not have a choice.

“You get to decide what’s right and what’s wrong,” Lya continued. “I mean without proper context something good can look bad. Even still people can’t agree on what’s right and what’s wrong. I mean if you had to do something bad without another choice, then is it you who's bad or is it whoever forced you into that situation?

It’s all subjective, so just decide for yourself what’s good and bad, then come to your own conclusion.”

Wait, she’s talking about definitions? Good is good, and bad is bad, that’s all. It doesn’t matter why, if I did something bad it’s bad. Can circumstance justify action, even in a case like mine?

“But for you, I can say what I think,” Lya said. “You were trying to help those people by sneaking them medicine, right? To me, so long as you’re trying to help people, you’re a good person.”

Kuri snickered. “See, it’s that simple.”

I leaned back in the car and gazed out the window. My eyes drifted to a rooftop, where at the edge I saw a familiar silhouette. When I blinked my eyes, Deicide had vanished, and I was left staring at my reflection in the car window.

“Whatcha’ lookin' at Ace?” Kuri asked.

“A good person.”