Dia Mater led me out of the cylinder towards an unfinished parking lot. Dark clouds painted the moon, leaving the night beyond the floodlights bleaker than it should have been. There was a dampness to the air, and it carried in the breeze that blew to us, coiling around my clammy skin.

The humidity would have been nice had I not been sticky in places I didn't want to mention. Every action evoked a wince, and my ribs hurt so bad, it would have been a blessing to faint from the pain. I could barely feel my limbs or the joints within them, but the throbbing in my head? Yeah, I could feel that.

“Hold on,” Dia Mater said, moving behind me. A ripping noise followed and the bindings fell. “Better?”

I raised my hands and massaged one wrist then another. “Thanks.”

Dia Mater nodded, retrieving a cellphone from her pockets. “Consider it a gesture of trust, Chetachi. Try not to disappoint me.”

I nodded.

“Hello,” Dia Mater said into her phone. “We are in the parking lot. You can come get us now.”

“Are you taking me home?” I asked.

“Yes. But not yet,” she said. “We need to get you to a doctor, and”—she stopped me before I could interrupt her—“yes, your mother and your sister are fine. A little hysterical, but that’s expected seeing as you are missing. We've managed to calm them in the interim.”

“You told them I was a Super?”

Dia Mater shook her head. “That decision is yours to make, not ours. Oh look, our ride's here.”

A black van cruised into the lot, headlights gleaming. It pulled up to us, tinted windows betraying nothing of its interior. A burly man alighted. He was largish, almost as big as Rabidor. His suit and tie looked crisp and neatly pressed even in the sparse lighting. He drew his feet together with an ease at odds with his stature and offered a greeting.

“Evening, ma, sir,” he said.

“Ardent,” Dia Mater replied. “Thank you for coming. I have booked an appointment with the Clinic. The sooner we get there, the better.”

“Right away,” he said, ushering us into the van.

Two rows of leather seats sat facing each other. Dia Mater and I slid into one while Ardent took the other backing the driver. He rapped his fingers on the partition separating the two compartments. The van rolled away.

I leaned against the window, setting my forehead on the glass.

“So,” Ardent rumbled. “The junior team. Really?”

“He's on probation,” Dia Mater said. “A repeat of today will see him out of the team and straight into a jail cell.”

“Hmm. Probation.”

“You don't approve?”

“I’m not sure my opinion matters either way, ma.” He folded his arms, managing to take up as much space as Dia Mater and I did. His features were hidden in the dark so I wasn't sure where he was looking.

“Ardent . . .” I said, barely stringing the words. “Don't think I've heard the name. Are you a superhero too?”

“No.” He didn't venture anything else.

Dia Mater sighed. “Ardent's our auxiliary director. He ensures the smooth running of the CAH and caters to our respective needs.”

“Escorting me to the hospital is one of those needs?” I said.

“It isn't,” Ardent replied. “But I wanted to see you in person.”

I lifted my head off the glass, trying not to frown. There had been nothing but judgments and evaluations ever since I got here. It was starting to grate.

“We're going to patch you up,” Dia Mater said. “You get three days to rest and put your affairs in order. Then the CAH will come calling.”

“T-that sounds ominous,” I said.

She might have chuckled. “It is.”

“What did you tell my mother?”

It was Ardent who replied. “We parked a police car in front of your house. ‘Told her there had been a kidnap attempt. You would be returned after mild questioning.”

“You didn't tell her about Gunner?”

“No.”

I blinked. “Thank you.”

The van hit a speed bump.

“It is still your choice,” Dia Mater said. “You can tell her about your abilities, about your meeting with us and our proposal. We encourage our underage members to do so. It helps keep things more civil if both guardian and ward are onboard with voluntary Heroism—”

“Also makes it easier to explain unfortunate accidents,” Ardent murmured.

Dia Mater stiffened. “That too. However, we've had . . . problems with guardians preferring to side with the SIRC in the past. If your mother wishes to register you for the government program, there is little we can do.”

Using the SIRC to strangle the superhuman population. Wasn't that what he'd said? The Hero, Pro-something.

I organized my thoughts. “Shouldn't the SIRC and the Council work hand in hand? I mean, you both want to protect people, right? What does it matter who joins up with who?”

Dia Mater snorted. “Oh, it matters. It matters, alright.”

“You can't join them,” Ardent said, his voice an almost imperceptible miserere. “The SIRC mandates that all superhumans be registered, and the CAH can handle the registration on your behalf. However, you must never join their program. If you do, we will press charges for the incident today.”

“He gets that much, Ardent,” Dia Mater said in a flat voice.

“Just making things clear, ma,” he replied.

The leather rumpled as the Hero turned to me. “You know the difference between the SIRC and the Superhuman Response Agency, right?”

“One’s a government commission,” I answered, “and the other is a branch of the Armed Forces?”

“To put it lightly,” Dia Mater said. “The SIRC might claim to operate in the best interests of superhumans, but their chief goal is to acquire recruits for the SRA. Everyone with a combat power eventually gets forced into the SRA.”

I balked. I wasn’t a big fan of military service or police ones for that matter.

Dia Mater continued, “The SRA doesn’t come without its perks. They are willing to throw huge amounts of money at Supers. But we don't expect you to work pro-bono either. We have the backing of our central body in Lagos, which in turn has international sponsors.” She drummed her fingers on the seat. “As a junior member of the CAH, you are entitled to a salary and a trust fund. The salary will be paid via a dummy account to protect your identity.”

Money. I was interested in that. “How much?” I asked.

“Three hundred and fifty thousand a month. Not counting the starting allowance. The package comes with other benefits including free tuition and healthcare for you and your family. In return, you are expected to spend five days each week at the base.”

It was a dizzying figure, and it only served to make my nausea worse. Three hundred and fifty thousand. I was flipping pizzas for thirty.

Dia Mater leaned in close to me. I got the feeling she was smiling.

“So, Chetachi,” she said. “When are we seeing you in costume?”

Mom swept me into a hug the moment I walked into the house. I was numb from intramuscular painkillers yet she still squeezed strong enough to hurt.

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“Oh, my son,” she said, weeping. “My baby. I can't even imagine what you've been through.”

“I'm fine, mom. It's alright.”

“Kidnappers! Really! What in God's name could we have that they would want?”

“A ransom, maybe,” I said. “I’m not sure what gave them the idea though. It’s not like I have a single kobo in my bank account.”

“How are you so calm?” Mom said, and her eyes watered as she touched my face. “I thought I’d lost you. Coming home, seeing the neighbors gathered around our house. Nenye screaming . . .” She paused to gather herself. “I didn't know what to do. I still don't know.”

I rubbed slow circles on her back. “It's okay, mom. Really. The police rescued me, and I even got a free checkup.”

I hated doing this. Lying to mom. But then, after speaking with Dia Mater, I wasn't sure she needed to know the truth. It was fine back when I’d assumed that being a Super was a simple matter of reporting to the SIRC. But I'd signed up to be an actual superhero now—an entirely different ballgame. Mom wouldn't be too pleased.

“We're moving out,” mom said, her voice frightfully small. “We're renting out the house, selling it if possible. I don't want to spend another month in the Layout.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s do that. What . . . what about Nenye? Is she okay?”

“She's sleeping. I put her to it about an hour ago. She's been screaming since I got here.”

“I should go check on her.”

Mom let go of my arms. “Okay. It's almost dawn now, but I can make you some tea?”

“Don't bother, mom. You have work.”

“I am not going in today.”

“Still, get some sleep. I know you haven't gotten any.”

I gave her another hug and slunk into Nenye's room. The lights were out, blinders drawn taut over barricaded windows. Nenye curled up on her side, snoring lightly. Her blanket lurked in a heap at the foot of her bed, kicked off in her sleep. I reached for her scalp, peeling thick hair off warm, gummy skin.

In a way, I was glad Nenye couldn't convey what she'd seen. It was a nasty thing to be glad for, but it meant my return was enough to give mom some peace. Had Nenye understood what she'd witnessed? She must have been horrified, seeing me pinned by Rabidor, blade pressed against my throat.

I laid the blanket in a neat bundle beside her.

Three days.

Three days until the CAH came calling.

I needed to thank the neighbors and let them know I was alright. I also had to say goodbye to Mike and Eden. I wasn't looking forward to conversations with the latter, not after our falling-out, but it had to be done. Eden was about the only friend I had other than Mike, and although we had our differences, the good far outweighed the bad.

There was also the matter of mom and Nenye, and the need to come up with an excuse. I was going to be a superhero. Like Saver and Dia Mater and all those who came before them. Was that enough to forgive the lies I planned to tell my family? I didn't think so. But mom would understand whenever I came clean.

Saving lives . . . that had to count for something, yeah?

I entered my room, holding on to that piece of hope. The rest of the morning passed in fitful bouts of sleep.

Mom dropped in at two o'clock. My head ached and my ribs crunched like shattered eggshells, but I felt better than I had earlier in the day.

“Gotten enough sleep?” she asked, leaning against the door. A comb and some hairpins peeked out of her hand.

“About enough,” I said. “Good afternoon.”

Her gaze fell on my naked chest, riddled with bruises. “Good afternoon. You said the police treated your wounds?”

“Yeah. Their doctor.”

Mom swore beneath her breath. “I thought you said you weren't hurt? Let's get it checked then.”

“No, it's fine. The doctor did a great job. They gave me some injections. Ran an MRI. Yeah, I have a couple of sore muscles near the ribs, but they would heal in no time.” My ribs weren't just sore though. They'd been fractured. They were hairline fractures, and the doctor had assured me of complete recovery within a week. Novel therapy.

Mom raised an eyebrow. “Our police did all you said? That's so unlike them.”

“Yeah, I know. The times are changing, maybe? And the clinic was really good! You know how we have a lot of super-geniuses running around these days. Spotted some pretty hi-tech equipment.”

“Uh-huh. And since when did you know anything about medicine?”

I laughed. “Haba. I've been taking care of Nenye for years. I was also raised by a nurse. I'd be worried if I didn't know anything.”

Mom smiled. “Oh, alright, but let me look at it in the evening. I would lose my mind if your condition worsened because of something I could have spotted.”

“No problem. I get the feeling you wanted something?”

Mom shoved the comb into her hair. “I did. But after seeing your condition, I’ve changed my mind. You can’t move around with those.”

I poked at the bruises. “It really doesn't hurt though. Come on. Fill me in.”

“Ugh. I wanted all of us to go out tonight.”

“Eh. What's the occasion?”

“What?” mom said, laughing. “I know we haven't hung out in a while, but I still know how to have fun. I was thinking we could go someplace nice, the three of us. I got paid and I can get some shopping done too.”

I didn't need to think about it. I hustled out of bed. “Sure. But there's somewhere you need to take me first.”

“Where?”

“My former workplace.”

Mom jerked upright. “Former? If your boss fired you because of your ordeal, I swear I’d—”

“No. He didn't fire me. I am quitting.”

Mom's expression swung from outrage to concern. “Why?”

“I got a better job offer,” I said. Restrictive clothing was not an option so I pulled a hoodie and shorts from my wardrobe.

“You did?”

“Well, I wanted it to be a surprise. My potential employers are coming to speak with us in three days. You need to take a single shift that day so you'd be available to meet them.”

Mom's eyes wandered. “I'll be taking single shifts all week. W-what's going on, Chachi? You have a new job and your employers are coming here?”

“I don't want to ruin the surprise, mom.”

Mom stared at me. She sighed and threw her hands in the air. “Oh, alright. I can wait three days. Shower and get dressed. Nenye and I are already done.”

I limped to the bathroom.

Showering was a hasty affair even though each jerky movement left me winded. Maybe I was hurt more than I thought, but I wasn’t about to ruin the day. I finished in thirty and helped mom coax Nenye into the backseat.

Nenye didn't say a word, which was odd, considering how she’d screamed all through my disappearance. She gawked out the window, barely acknowledging my presence.

We arrived at Pizzamania a short moment later.

Mom looked back at Nenye and me, eyebrows crinkling. “Are you sure you don't want me to speak with your boss,” she said. “If we explain the situation—”

“It's fine,” I said. “I've always wanted to do this. Plus, new job. Remember?”

“Yes, yes,” mom said, huffing. She killed the engine and settled into her seat.

I ruffled Nenye’s hair and pressed her open mouth shut. She glanced at me and looked out the window again, eyes unfocused. Pity I didn’t have a good camera. Nenye looked great in her new clothes: a blouse and pencil jeans, bangles and a mild perfume adorning her wrists. Mom had done her hair up in two long braids which framed her face, accentuating her neck and chin. I could almost see her in those clothes, laughing and chatting with kids her age. Gosh, what I wouldn't give for a sight like that.

Eden was prepping to leave when I breezed into the pizzeria. Her pupils dilated at the sight of me. “Chetachi?”

I grinned at her. “Daudu still in?”

“Well, yeah . . . but what are you going to do? You don't look like you came to explain your absence.”

“I didn't.” I waved at my other colleagues. “Just give me a minute, Eden. This will be quick.”

Daudu’s expression froze as I entered his office. Then he took in my cheeky grin and sparks like daggers flew from his eyes.

“Here to beg?” he said, practically vibrating. “I don't want to hear your excuse. You are fired.”

I feigned indignation. “Beg? No, I just wanted to set things straight.”

Daudu bristled. “What?”

“Hush, I am still talking,” I said, raising a finger to my lips.

The bastard’s eyeballs threatened to pop.

Haha. Eat that.

“You see, you're a real piece of work,” I said, taking advantage of his neural collapse. “You enjoy trampling on the downtrodden, lording your achievements over people who just want to eat. I know I might not be the best employee, but goddammit, man. Even an alternate you wouldn’t want to work for you.”

“Get out of my office!” Daudu roared.

I raised my palms. “I’m going. I just wanted to say I never enjoyed my time here. None of the staff do. When you are less angry, on your lonesome, think about it. These people endure all kinds of beatdowns from you, yet you keep demanding they give their best. How do you expect that to work?”

Daudu made to rise. Then he smiled and shook his head. “Are you done? Because if you think your little act of rebellion has achieved anything today, you are wrong. The sun will fall and rise after this, and life here in my establishment will continue as usual. All you have done is burn a bridge already barred to your crossing.”

He set his jaw like granite and squared his shoulders. But I hadn't expected anything else. Men like Daudu, who had achieved all they had by barreling through obstacles, often enough proved to be the biggest obstacles to themselves.

“I’ve said all I have to say,” I said. “Think about it or don't. And no, you didn't fire me. I am resigning. Don't even bother asking for a letter. Type it yourself using any of my numerous pay cuts.”

Daudu eased into his chair, a shit-eating grin on his face. “You feel good, eh? Talking smack to me like that? You've done nothing but shout in the wind! Let me give you one last piece of advice. You continue down this road and I bet—”

I slammed the door.

Eden stood outside it, mouth ajar. “Why did you do that?!” she said.

I didn't know. It hadn't gone as well as I'd anticipated. But it felt good.

I made my exit, Eden hurrying after me. My colleagues fired questions, all of which I ignored.

“What's going on, Chetachi?” Eden asked. “You've been weird ever since yesterday.”

I shrugged. “I have a new perspective on life now.”

“New perspective?” She spotted the car. “Oh my gosh, you brought your family?”

“Yeah. My mom and sis.”

Mom craned out the window, probably giving Eden a once-over.

“Can I go say hi?” Eden asked.

“Some other time,” I replied, pocketing my hands. “I apologize for the way I acted yesterday. I wasn't in the best of moods.”

“That's okay, my dude. I just want to know what’s going on.”

“Well, my mom got mugged the day before, and because of that, we might need to change our living arrangements.”

“Oh no,” Eden said, hands flying to her mouth.

“No, it's fine,” I said. “It's been resolved. But a job offer I'd been waiting on finally arrived yesterday. No better time than now, yeah?”

“What kind of job?”

“NGO stuff, you know how those are.”

Eden looked down at her feet. “Oh. I guess we wouldn't be seeing each other anymore then.”

She had a denim jacket on and a frilly skirt which shimmied precariously in the wind. She glanced at me beneath long lashes, and I realized again why I could alienate everyone else but Eden.

My heart thudded in my chest. “I still have your number. We could meet up on occasion and talk?”

Eden grinned. “Yeah. I'd like that.” She pulled me into a hug. “I am going to miss you, dude.”

“Same.” I almost forgot to breathe.

Mom honked the horn.

“Call me!” Eden said as I returned to the car.

“Bet!” I replied for once, entertaining her antics.

“I didn't know you have a girlfriend,” mom said, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“I don't!”

“Okay o,” she said. “She's a pretty one either way. How did it go with your boss?”

I snickered, then winced as a sharp pang struck my chest. “He took it well.”

“Eh?”

“Come on, let's go. We still have shopping to do today.”

“Oh, alright.”

I settled in beside Nenye and held her hand. It had been so long since we’d done stuff as a family. Time sped by as we visited the market and a mall and finally had dinner at a Chinese place.

Two days later, the CAH came.