Do you remember when the NGG formed, James? We were there. Everyone was so earnest. We thought they were our hope for the future.

Danny was sitting in the deserted common room, the cozy armchair cradling him gently and threatening to put him back to sleep. Despite Legacy getting them home past dark, he’d still woken up early. There was a lot on his mind. The weapon, of course, and contacting Vincent, but more than that.

He leaned back in the chair, looking around at a room for young people, clearly designed by old people. It was a fairly large room, with several couches, a couple of small tables, and some games. Danny was getting pretty good at ping pong. The walls were gray, the NGG’s favorite color, but almost entirely covered in posters of famous supers.

There was even a picture of the Great Hero, though Danny partly saw the man as two distinct people at this point. It wasn’t a proper pose, just a shot of the legend staring off into the distance, dressed–as always–in relatively plain clothes, and his long coat. Was he the Great Hero, or simply James Synder at that moment? Was he saving the world or sacrificing millions to save millions more?

The duality of the myth and the man felt like a reflection of all the conflicts Danny felt within himself. He was Danny Mackenzie, Mimic and fugitive, spy and infiltrator looking to take down the NGG. He was Daniel Summers, Power Shaper and struggling Young Infinity trainee, and ward to the last real Hero this world had.

He was also a kid who’d been abandoned by his parents, easily replaced by a new child he’d never met. Worse, he was a coward who hid behind anything that seemed powerful. Vincent, Legacy, even his own abilities. Hell, even being a Mimic at all is basically just professional hiding.

He sighed, thinking back to his conversation with Legacy, and the realization that he’d been using possibly the most versatile power set on the planet as a safety blanket. Danny wasn’t sure what to do with all these revelations, he’d never been big on introspection before, but he knew what he wanted, and maybe that would be enough for now.

Needing a break from all the big thoughts, he used his KD to turn on the oversized monitor integrated into the wall, and started browsing for anything interesting. He was surprised to find a Veridicus broadcast in progress, and quickly tuned in. He’d expected to find those feeds blocked, like that at the Farm, but apparently Infinity Tower had more of a ‘know your enemy’ approach.

The so-called revolutionary was in his usual setup, sitting alone at a desk in a dark room. He was dressed all in black, as usual, with only the red X crossing over his mask catching the dim light at all. There were differences, however, which seemed to have been appearing slowly since they escaped the farm, but ramped up in the last couple of months.

It was hard to dismiss the man as just another conspiracy nut these days. He was calmer, almost subdued compared to his early days. He’d also gone from delivering the news that the NGG kept hidden, to talking about fighting back in every broadcast. He even seemed to dress better.

Danny knew that Arthur had managed to contact the guy, and that Vincent was using his name to carve out a piece of the NTC. As a cover, I think? Vincent’s plans are so confusing. It seemed like they might have taken it further, because someone was clearly doing everything they could to make this guy believable. Respectable, even.

Danny and Lucia had teased Vincent for years while he quoted this guy’s ravings, even as he managed to slowly amass a few million followers. Now, though, that number was growing rapidly, and word around the tower was that the NGG genuinely might be searching for him. Veridicus had always ended his broadcasts by claiming ‘they’ were close to catching him, now they truly might be. Hell, the guy looks like he’s lost weight. Maybe he really is running.

After a long moment of intense staring, Veridicus finally spoke to the camera, his voice muffled under the mask, but understandable. “Greetings, my fellow revolutionaries. Veridicus is before you once again, as you can see. You’ve surely noticed that my broadcasts have become more frequent, and perhaps even surmised the reason for that.”

He leaned back in his chair, the pro-revolution graffiti on the wall behind him seeming doubly bright and colorful by contrast to the dark, and surprisingly ominous figure. “The work we do is important, my friends. We spread the truth, we shine a light on the lies of the NGG. We stand as one to shout that their tyranny will not be tolerated!

“So why more broadcasts? Because the revolution has begun. There are more of us every day, and the NGG can no longer hide the war that we’ve been fighting in secret for so long. More of the disgusting Power Farms rise up every day, as brave young Adepts throw down their Gamma and turn on their captors.

“The Cult of the Mind disrupts NGG operations wherever they can. The oppressors’ armies are starving for their doses of that hated, controlling drug as their supply lines crumble. So-called independent Governments are revealed as the NGG puppets that they truly are.

“But,” Veridicus leaned forward, arms reaching toward the camera, “the real news is you. True victory and the freedom it buys will only come when the world rises up together to reject our overlords, and the real soldiers will always be those of you watching this at home, refusing to believe their lies.

“I see you. I see all of you. When you refuse to send your children to be their slaves. When you stand together, and ignore their demands that you turn on one another. When you wake up every day, and choose not to be their tools. You are the revolution, my friends. And make no mistake…someday soon, we will march.”

He leaned back, steepling his fingers. “The day is approaching, revolutionaries. Stay strong. Support each other. Refuse the Gamma. Refute their lies. We’re in this together.” The feed went dark, and Danny felt a chill. The only thing ‘war’ had ever meant to him was the invasion. Hearing of someone recruiting for another one seemed impossible to wrap his head around.

Noticing the time, he stood up. He needed to get to the dead drop and leave his message for Vincent, then make it back before training started. Stretching, he moved toward the door, then paused, taking one last look at the Great Hero. Which side would you have been on?

***

When Danny made it back to the tower, it was immediately clear that something was wrong. He shakily jumped from his conjured sphere, and looked around the Hub in confusion. People were scrambling in every direction, and one of the transport jets was rising from the hangar. Danny raced to the training area when he spotted bright colors. Bright colors usually meant supers.

The rest of the trainees were assembled, and Mrs. Gibson seemed to be briefing them on something. Danny slid to a halt, barely stopping before he ran into Gary. “Trainee Summers, there you are. Have you been informed of the situation?”

“No Ma’am, I was out doing some flying practice before training. What’s going on?”

The Chief administrator seemed torn between wanting to continue her briefing, and likely reprimand Danny for joyriding. Her blue business suit contrasted sharply with her dark skin as she angled her tablet toward him after a moment’s hesitation. “Graviton. He’s an exceptionally dangerous Villain that hasn’t surfaced in years. Not since the last time he robbed a convoy of Gamma.”

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The image on the tablet was classic Supervillain. He was one of the old ones, around for decades and with more complex powers than you tended to see nowadays. It was his costume that caught the eye, however. A tight, dark purple suit was covered by heavy steel plates in key locations. His helmet, hands, and feet each had ridiculously oversized armor, almost comical.

“What’s with that outfit?” Danny asked.

“As I was just explaining: he has a hybrid power set. Extreme strength meets gravity fields. Anything he can hit you with will weigh hundreds of pounds, and he can increase that by a factor of ten–maybe even twenty. He’s truly, and demonstrably deadly.”

“We can handle it,” Nell insisted, already wearing her red Firestrike suit. “Erica will handle the heavy stuff, and Gary can counteract the gravity. That leaves Charles and I free to take him down.”

“Um, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that much weight,” Erica said. She was wearing her own black and yellow hero suit, with her dreadlocks pushed back with a yellow band. “He’s gotta be Fission level by now, right?”

“Our intel suggests he’s stuck at the Reactive level due to his hybrid nature, and how little Gamma he must be using to stay underground as long as he has been,” Mrs. Gibson answered.

“That’s still double Reactive, though,” Gary said, looking nervous. He didn’t have his own suit yet, though everyone assumed he’d try to copy Herald’s look someday, she being his mentor. For now his black training suit was all Danny had seen him in, though his Korean features were always hidden behind thick goggles. His telekinetic powers granted him flight, but he couldn’t stand the wind getting in his eyes. “Just because I can lift things doesn’t mean I’m an automatic counter for Gravity powers,” he added.

“And what about me?” Danny asked. He knew he wasn’t at the level of the others, but you didn’t just sideline Legacy’s ward…right?

“If we need the most powerful walking liability in the country, we’ll call you,” Nell said.

Danny glared. “Fine. How about Legacy then? Or Herald and Shockwave–the grown up versions I mean.”

Charles–or Baby Shockwave as Danny thought of him–looked uncomfortable. His powers had actually destroyed several suits. Apparently Tecnico had made the original Shockwave’s suit material himself, and no one could replicate it. That meant Charles often ended up bursting out of his shirt during training, leaving his impressively muscular upper body bare. The fact that this never seemed to happen to his pants was highly suspicious to Danny, and partly why he also called the guy ‘Douchewave’ on occasion.

“Those two don’t…leave the tower anymore,” Douchewave said, before running a hand through his short red hair.

“And I’m afraid Legacy has been dispatched to another emergency,” Mrs. Gibson added. “Frankly I’m not happy to even be discussing it with you five, but Graviton has a dark history of civilian casualties, and the Elites have no chance against powers of his level.”

“We can handle it,” Nell said. “He’ll be tough, but his power set doesn’t offer much defense. Enough heat and shockwaves and we can put him down.”

Mrs. Gibson looked at Nell for some time, then she moved on to examine them one by one, before settling on Danny. “Are you ready for this?” she asked, and he wondered if it was his supposedly traumatic past or his continued accidents that had her more concerned. Probably a healthy mix of the two.

“You can’t be serious!” Nell said in a near-shriek before he could answer. “He’s as dangerous as Graviton!”

“Yes. He is,” the Chief Administrator answered, looking at Nell pointedly.

“Of course I’m coming,” Danny said, trying to sound as confident as possible. “This is exactly what you want me for. If I’m going to break something, it should be this jackass, not the tower. And worse comes to worse, I’ll just hide in a shield and let him pound the hell out of me, while you give him a terrible burning sensation.” Nell rolled her eyes. It was possible Danny had used a variation of that joke before. Maybe a few dozen times.

“Then it’s settled,” Mrs. Gibson said. “The transport plane will take you to him. He’s near the old border between the US and Canada; we can have you there in under an hour.” Her expression hardened. “Let me be clear. Your job is to keep him away from that Gamma. Elites are dying right now for that very purpose. But you are not to throw your lives away. Distract, irritate, misdirect, but stay alive.”

“We hear you, Commander,” Nell said. Commander? Shit I’ve been missing something again, haven’t I? “If we can take him out, we will. But the Gamma–”

“And civilian lives,” Gary cut in.

Nell turned her glare on him. “The Gamma and civilian lives are the priority. We’ll get the job done, Ma’am.”

“Just be careful,” the ‘Commander’ said, seemingly genuinely worried.

And then before Danny knew it, they were airborne, on their way to fight a murderous, Gamma addicted Supervillain.

This is fine, he thought. Somehow, this is fine.

***

As promised, they landed about forty minutes later. Danny had spent the whole trip in one long internal pep-talk, and he was starting to resent the unbridled optimism of his own inner voice. The five young hero wannabes disembarked in a field outside a small town near the old border. It wasn’t too far from the Vermont Power Farm Danny had escaped from, and he had an odd sense of being home that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

“Let’s move!” Nell called, and she sprinted toward a tree-lined road. The others followed wordlessly, and Danny wished there had been some debate as to who would lead. The truth was that Nell, while abrasive, and rude, and arrogant, and sarcastic, and self-involved, and temperamental, and cocky, and super hot, and…where was I going with this? Right. She had still shown more leadership than the rest of them had.

Soon they were sprinting down the street at top speed…well, Danny’s top speed, as the slowest of them. The rest had all reached Reactive rank, and the power boost that came with it still put them beyond him physically. Eventually Gary–who was flying–picked him up so they could increase their pace. It was only slightly humiliating. Danny had almost tried to fly himself, but anything faster than a jog tended to end in crashes.

Soon the small town came into view, and evidence of the battle became apparent. The road had been torn to pieces, and craters littered the area. “Gravity fields?” Gary suggested as they slowed their breakneck pace.

“Likely,” Nell agreed. “Be ready everyone. They must be ahead.”

Sure enough, sounds of gunfire and battle could soon be heard as they entered the town. It was quieter than they’d have liked, actually, as it meant that the fighting was almost over. They moved down the main street, passing old warehouses and factories, before finally reaching what passed for a downtown–little more than some two and three story buildings crammed together near a couple of traffic lights.

Danny wasn’t sure how many people still lived in a place like this, but the town had likely taken its last breath after this incident. Several buildings had collapsed, and a number of trees and light posts had fallen into the street. A clocktower caught his eye, as it was taller than most of the remaining structures, and made from exceptionally red brick. A pickup truck was sticking out from its side about twenty feet off the ground, and the tower looked like a tree that had been sawn nearly in half, but refused to collapse.

Finally they spotted what they had been looking for. A trail of crushed vehicles and unmoving bodies in black tactical gear led to a man nearly as big as Berserker Bob. Graviton was dressed exactly as the photos Danny had seen, and he was bent over a massive metallic cube that looked like a portable vault. He was trying to pry open a door that was clearly locked.

He either heard them or sensed their presence somehow, and quickly dropped the enormous cube that Danny hadn’t even realized the Villain had been holding. He slowly turned to face them, and despite the terror building in his gut, Danny couldn’t decide if the man’s crazy helmet was silly or scary.

Graviton looked out at them from a tiny slot in a huge sphere, nearly as big as the giant’s own torso. Without speaking he took a single step forward before the whole world felt wrong–heavy–and then that massive, ridiculous helmet crashed into the ground, and a crater burst into existence easily five feet deep, and wider than the street they were standing on.

Right, Danny thought, scary it is.