Then there was the Emperor. Then there was certain death.

Danny had lost track of the number of hours he’d spent staring at his friend, waiting for him to wake up. Vincent was covered in so many bandages that he was only vaguely person-shaped, but even through all those layers blood had managed to soak through. Please, Danny thought, please open those weird, mis-matched eyes of yours and tell me to stop wasting time. Or to focus, or stay balanced, anything…

It took considerable physical effort to force himself to look away. Danny took in the appearance of Vincent’s room instead. It was neat, and clean, and except for the bed and the notebooks, it looked like no one even lived here. “You finally had a room you could decorate anyway you wanted, and somehow it’s blander than the dorms,” he said.

A sound drew his attention as the door opened, and Arthur walked in. “It’s nearly time, Danny,” he said softly.

“There has to be some way to postpone,” he replied, gesturing at Vincent’s broken form.

“I’m sorry, I wish there were. This isn’t something I wanted to rush, and I understand your concern for Vincent, but…” Arthur sighed. “This is our only chance, Danny. We both know what he’d say if he could. We all know how important this is.”

Nodding, Danny slowly stood up, then looked back at his friend. “I’m going to do this for you, Vince. I don’t care how hard it is, or how crazy things get. I’m going to come home with a big stupid mystery gun, just for you.” He rested his hand on top of the bandaged mass that was Vincent’s arm. “Be awake for that, okay?”

He turned and swept out of the room, Arthur following. “I assure you Danny, the Mender that we brought him to knows her work well. She believes Vincent will recover, and so do I.” Danny nodded, but his mind was already somewhere else.

When they arrived in the central room, he saw the whole crew was there. Even Lucia had stayed out of her room for the two days since Vince had gotten injured, though she still looked like crap. Danny wasn’t looking for her though, and his eyes narrowed as he saw Berserker Bob sitting on one of the couches, staring into space.

Without wasting the time thinking about it, Danny rushed forward, and grabbed the enormous man by the front of his ridiculous, fancy shirt. Mimicking Bob’s own strength, Danny hurled the giant into the concrete wall, then raced after him.

Danny slammed his forearm into Bob’s throat, forcing his head back against the wall. “Danny, what the hell are you doing?” Emi called, and he could hear footsteps rushing across the room.

“You’re responsible for this, you know that right?” Danny growled at the Berserker. Bob didn’t speak. He didn’t even raise his mammoth arms to defend himself. He just nodded.

Arms were pulling at Danny, and he could hear Lucia speaking in low tones, trying to calm him. He ignored them. Even a fraction of Bob’s strength made them less than children compared to him, and even a fraction of Bob’s rage gave Danny a singular purpose like nothing he’d ever felt before.

“Vincent isn’t like us. He’s special,” he said, putting more force against the larger man. “Your only job is to keep him safe. You failed,” he spat. Bob nodded again. Danny could feel himself shaking, and his body was growing as hot as a furnace.

“I have to leave, because that’s what Vincent wanted,” Danny said through clenched teeth. “While I’m gone, you’re going to do your job better,” he said, as red clouded his vision. “Or when I come back, I’ll show you what real anger looks like.”

He stepped back, releasing Bob’s powers at the same time he released the man himself. Turning, he strode back toward Arthur. Emi was trying to help Bob to his feet, but strangely the Berserker just sat where he’d been thrown, still not speaking.

Arthur was waiting where Danny had left him, looking at if nothing had happened at all. He handed over a tablet when Danny reached him. “That’s everything you need to know, and everything you need to do. I know you haven’t had as much time to focus on it as we’d have liked, but the trip to the safehouse will take some time.”

Danny nodded, taking the tablet and marching toward the exit. This wasn’t how he’d planned to leave, but his emotions were all over the place. He turned and looked back, seeing Emi and Lucia watching him go, appearing just as conflicted as he was. “Goodbye,” was all he could manage, and then he turned and left his friends behind.

***

Samuel Parker looked down at the tablet in his lap, reading it for the hundredth time. If he was being honest with himself, he’d agreed to ride in the Helicopter with the troops specifically because he wanted to go over the file again. Sam worked very hard to be honest with himself, given that so many of his friends had been lost to self-delusion.

Sam looked up from the tablet, unsurprised to find that the seven other men in the chopper were staring at him. They were Elites, and their black tactical gear and face-obscuring helmets made them seem barely human. Sam wasn’t intimidated, however. He was one of the few people alive who remembered what non-humans looked like, and nothing would ever compare.

Sam turned and looked out the window, enjoying the view of the golden fields beneath them. He didn’t come to former Canada often, but when he did, he always hoped to see the open prairies. Something about the endless, flat landscape stretching from horizon to horizon, felt like freedom in a way that cities couldn’t.

He’d been raised on a farm, lifetimes ago, and even though that was never the life he wanted, the years had painted his childhood with a fond color. He looked back down at the tablet, wondering if the picture of the boy was what was making him drift off into nostalgia. Sam had never had children. He’d never had time for it, and the right woman had always been with the wrong man.

Now there was this boy, Daniel Summers, and Sam had to work not to get his hopes up. The kid had been through hell, and there were no guarantees here. Daniel might not be here. Nightshade might have cut him loose, or simply killed him. The boy could also be so badly tortured and scared that he would be no use to anyone.

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Or, the recruiter got it wrong, and the boy wasn’t really a Power Shaper.

Sam shook his head to clear it. He was letting himself get lost in possibilities and what-ifs. To his mind, it didn’t seem so long ago that Ellie would have been the one to help him stay focused. Enzo would have done the same, but not with soft words. He’d just look at Sam with those judging eyes, and shake his head.

But Sam was alone now, as he had been for decades. Surrounded by people who feared him, worshiped him, or both. One of the Elites next to him leaned closer to speak. “Legacy, sir!” he began, as they always did. “We are approaching the target, sir!”

Sam nodded, then reached for his own helmet. He paused, considering the boy he was hoping to meet, and decided to leave the helmet behind. Instead, he hit the small alarm that signaled he was going to open the door mid-flight, and dragged on the door a moment later.

The air rushed in and out rapidly, and the Elites gripped the various handholds as Sam surveyed the ground below. The wind didn’t bother his eyes, and he spotted the large, abandoned warehouse easily. It was in the center of an overgrown field, and the road leading up to it was effectively gone.

Not bothering to wait, Sam dove out of the chopper, enjoying the strange feeling of freefall. The ground approached rapidly, and he Shaped a bubble to catch himself when he was barely a dozen feet from impact. There was no telling what security Nightshade had left, and he needed to move quickly.

The green bubble shot through the air like a bullet, though he felt none of gravity’s effects while inside. Sam crossed his arms behind him as the warehouse grew larger in front of him, and extended his senses as far as they could reach.

The warehouse was large and uniformly gray, likely intended to hold massive farming equipment, and Sam stopped right in front of an enormous set of steel doors. In his mind he could feel his senses bounce off someone inside, though he couldn’t tell much about the person–he always thought of this ability more like using radar than any kind of true sight.

Without hesitation he sent a single spear of power right through the doors, and directly toward the person inside. The green line of light was as narrow as his pinky finger, and it carved through every object inside until it struck the person huddling deep in the building. The power then obediently wrapped around the target, protecting them until he could arrive in person,

He heard the sound of the helicopter overhead, and the Elites jumping out, but he ignored it. “Form a perimeter,” he broadcast through his KD, “I’m going in alone.” Sam didn’t bother to listen to the replies, instead turning his focus to the warehouse, and what he might find within.

Reaching upward, a thin line of energy formed between the two doors, then in a blink expanded outward. The line grew into a massive rectangle, shattering locks and ripping one of the doors completely off its hinges, before the energy faded. Sam walked inside, keeping himself focused on the person farther in.

An explosion tore through the warehouse the moment he put his foot through the door, and Sam groaned in irritation. Fire and smoke would make this tedious. Though his eyes could perceive nothing but a wall of blackness, he reached forward, his power pooling against the far wall.

When he felt it touch every corner, covering the wall completely, he pulled it back toward him. It was a difficult maneuver, keeping the power light enough not to pull on the countless solid objects in the warehouse, while still catching the smoke and flames. He’d practiced it endlessly, however, after what happened to Ellie.

In moments, he felt his own power wash over him, as it pushed the heat and acrid air outside. All at once he could see again, and he continued forward into the warehouse. He’d been right about the farm equipment, as the building was filled with the slowly rusting bones of countless tractors and other machinery. Still, there were smaller doors ahead that proved the building held more secrets.

Traps went off almost constantly as he moved forward. A thresher fell from where it was suspended by chains from the ceiling. Needle-like metal spikes blasted out of the floor. Sam caught three more explosives with his power before they went off, and missed two more that had him clearing away smoke again.

Finally he pushed through the small door, moving into the area of the warehouse that Nightshade had obviously been using as a hideout. It was dark, with the windows blacked out with paint, and Sam released an orb of brightly glowing green power to see where he was going.

There were old computers, couches, chairs, and discarded food everywhere. He paused at a pile of empty Gamma injectors, shaking his head sadly. Thankfully there were no more traps–yet–and Sam was able to look around without being accosted. At last he reached another door, one that looked like it led to some kind of cold storage, though his senses told him otherwise.

He needlessly double checked to ensure the person inside was still contained by his power. He didn’t think it was likely that it was Nightshade, but she had fooled others before. At last he pulled on the door, and finding it locked, tore it off its hinges with his bare hands, before tossing it aside.

The room was small, barely larger than a closet, and completely dark. Once more he let a small glowing orb push aside the shadows, and he tried to take in everything at once. There were various food items piled against one far corner, and the smell coming from a bucket near the door told him that it was being put to use.

The rest of the room was almost bare, save for the chains bolted into the wall, and the dark green sphere holding the only person Sam had sensed. He walked in, taking another look for traps, and maybe even Nightshade herself, but he saw nothing. There was no room to hide in here.

Finally Sam approached the sphere, and rather than dropping it completely, expanded it so it encompassed him as well. Another hard lesson he’d learned was never to assume things were safe. Once inside, he immediately recognized the boy as Daniel Summers, though he was shirtless, bruised, and emaciated.

The kid looked terrified, and he pulled wildly at the chains that wrapped around his wrists and ankles, which disappeared through the sphere. “Easy son,” he said in the most comforting voice he had. “Do you know who I am?” he asked gently, and the boy stopped thrashing.

His hair was brown, filthy, and getting a little long. His frame appeared to be a bit lank, even putting aside the malnutrition, though Sam expected he’d be tall when he was able to stand again. Terrified, brown eyes stared up at him, on a face that appeared too young to even grow facial hair. Still the boy didn’t seem crazed, just frightened.

When he didn’t reply, Sam spoke again. “You’re safe now, son. I’m Legacy, and the NGG is here to take care of you.” The boy still didn’t react, his eyes just darting back and forth. With a thought, four small blades of energy sliced through the manacles holding the boy, and the chains fell through the sphere to clang onto the ground.

Daniel Summers looked down at his wrists in wonder, and Sam smiled. “I bet you could use some sunshine,” he said, and the sphere effortlessly pushed through the ceiling of the warehouse, letting the promised rays shine onto the boy from the midday sun.

Daniel slowly stood up, and Sam made the Sphere as transparent as he could while moving it into the nearby field. At last he dismissed it entirely, and the two of them fell an inch or so onto flattened wheat and dark, rich soil. Daniel took a few shaky steps away from Sam, reaching out to touch the plants in shock.

Finally he turned around, and looked at his savior. “You’re…You’re real?” he asked in a shaky voice.

Sam smiled. Nightshade had done a number on this poor kid. “Yes, Mr. Summers, I’m real. Do you prefer Daniel or Danny?” he asked. The kid gave him an odd look, then turned his eyes down at his own hands, which briefly glowed a very familiar shade of green. Sam let out a sigh of utter disbelief.

The boy smiled, then looked back up at Legacy. “Daniel is fine,” he said.