Chapter 2
SEA Headquarters, Manhattan
May 18, 2030
Three shots. Three hits. Three almost perfect shots.
Almost.
“Dammit!”
Cayden was in the training room, making sure his skills were sharp. He knew he would need them. Cayden downed a bottle of water. He was glad that he spent his time in prison keeping in shape, as if anticipating he would need to be. Handling his bow was second nature, but getting back to his highest peak took some getting used to. He may be a great archer at the moment, but he needed to be a superb one.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, man.” A voice from behind said.
Shawn Harlow, or Mister Dynamic as he was known, was a good friend of his. He was lifting weights, keeping himself in shape like Cayden was. Shawn took a drink from his water bottle, and batted off the sweat from his forehead with a rag. Shawn turned to his friend and patted him on the left shoulder.
“It’s not healthy.”
“I got to be at my best at all times.” Cayden said. “I don’t have powers, all I got is me. Almost perfect just isn’t good enough.”
“That kind of pressure isn’t good for you. Just putting it out there.”
“Easy for you to say, you actually have powers.”
“And I can still fall short of perfect.” Shawn said. “Anyways, why don’t you take a break for now? Anything you want to do on your first day as a free man? I think you should try it.”
“I got to sign some papers and hate myself for it later.”
“Anything you want to do?”
“Well, I do have a sister in town so…”
“There you go!”
That much was true. His sister lived in the city, and was actually fairly close to SEA Headquarters when he thought of it. This would be a great time to see her. Cayden waved at Shawn as he left, and hit the showers. Soon he was ready for the rest of the day. Whatever it entailed. It was 1:00 PM, and the sun was shining bright on the Big Apple.
He could see it from the outside of his quarters as he sat on his bed. The SEA allowed him a room. There are two floors of bedrooms on both sides, meant for agents to stay away from home. His was plain and empty, hardly remarkable. He didn’t intend to stay long.
He thought to himself how he had been out of it for two years. Two years behind bars, no freedom, no interaction with the outside world. It was almost surreal he could walk free again, even if he had to abandon his principles to do it. It was a good time to see his sister. It would be good to do something he liked, before later today, where he had to something he would rather not.
Cayden left his quarters, and went down the elevator. It was a large complex, one that wasn’t quickly navigated on foot. He reached the ground floor. Throughout the headquarters, there were numerous heroes and workers there. They paid him little mind, as did he, as they all went about their lives and would prefer to not deviate from them.
The front of the headquarters featured a monorail that reached past the end of the bridge and into a station. It was medium-sized, mainly for the workers to be able to go from one end to the other. In this case, he would board the monorail to get into the city, so he could go about paying someone a visit.
A quick ride over. It was silent, moving with great efficiency, and he was in the terminal before he knew it. Cayden was the only one inside, which was fine with him. He didn’t care to be bothered by others. A ding, and he was there. Cayden left through the terminal and into the streets of Manhattan.
Cayden navigated himself through the crowded sidewalk. He was acquainted just fine, the two years in prison having done nothing to take that away. The familiar sights and sounds were there alright, from the horns honking in the distance, to the chatter among the pedestrians, there was no mistaking her was in New York.
Down the streets he went. He continued to walk, minding himself, as he thought only of his destination. Cayden kept his hands in his pockets, and stood up straight. He knew he was getting close. The apartment buildings were just further down the street, right where they always were.
Said building was reddish-brown, made of brick, and was old. It was home to his sister, Anne Heller.
Cayden went up to the door, and rang the buzzer. A moment passed with no answer. He was worried in that second that Anne wasn’t there. The thought of the trip being a waste didn’t sit right.
But then she answered.
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“Hello?”
“Hey sis, it’s been a while!”
“Cayden? Come in!”
The door was opened, and Cayden quickly made his way inside. He went up the stairs, up three rows of them, before he reached his destination. He remembered her place well enough, it was Apartment 302. Cayden knocked on the door. In a moment, he was greeted by the sight of his sister.
“It’s been too long, sis.” Cayden said.
“You’re telling me. Shouldn’t be out doing something so reckless.”
“Just can’t help myself.”
Anne smiled. She had long hair, somewhat unkempt, and had a white T-shirt on over some comfy pants. Clearly she had been relaxing, not expecting her visitor. They took their seats on the sofa. It was a decent place, decent for crazy New York prices at least, with how spacious the living room was. Cayden made himself comfortable, leaning back on the sofa, feeling the instant relief.
“Did you bust out of prison just to visit me?” Anne asked.
“Heh. That actually would be cool, but no. I just sacrificed my core to get out. I’m working with the SEA now.”
“Aren’t you against them?”
“I am. But I’m not left with a choice. I’d rather be a free man than rot in that cell any longer.”
“I’d rather you put the bow down and stop crimefighting, think about your future. Of course, we both know that’s not happening.”
“Correct.”
Anne chuckled. “You’re hopeless.”
Cayden thought to himself how being a crimefighter was the life he had known. Just something about it that drew him, one thing or another. He felt he had a desire to do good, and fight people at the same time.
“What about you?” Cayden asked.
“Holding up well. Maintaining a career here is a challenge, New York being what it is, but I manage. I’m hoping to start up my business soon. I think it’ll be great to own the store rather than work in it.”
“Good luck. I’ll be rooting for you every step of the way.”
“Thank you.”
“Also, do you have any food? I’m hungry, and strapped…”
----
Three hours later
Cayden waved goodbye before departing from Anne’s apartment. They spent the last few hours catching up on old times, sharing memories of the past, and enjoying each other’s company. Now, he was needed back at the SEA HQ. There was still one last matter of business he had to complete, one that he was dreading.
The way back was peaceful. Cayden enjoyed the scenery, allowing him to think. It was better than his cell, where all he had were the same repetitive walls and corridors. New York City was the concrete jungle, but it was a nice adopted home that he called his own. With no particular rush, he returned to the SEA HQ in the same way he left.
Soon enough, he arrived.
“Let’s get this over with.” Cayden said.
He went through the long and wide hallways of the HQ. The interior walls were gray and metallic, featuring a dark blue carpet and windows that gave a good view of what was outside. Cayden already knew those windows were likely bulletproof, and everything-proof, considering what the SEA HQ serves to do.
Cayden reached the other side, where he entered an elevator. The elevator took him forward, to the northern end of the complex. The SEA HQ, being the massive location that it is practically needed the elevators make traversal an easy task. The elevator itself had windows, and he got a good view of the bay, and New Jersey on the other end.
He exhaled.
Cayden arrived at his destination. The north, where the registration office is. This is where he was to sign his name, and his information, in exchange for getting his official crimefighter license. It was to be a short process, and one that would cause him disgust. It was something he never wanted to do, but now he must.
The crimefighter license was introduced by the Cray Act. By signing his name and personal information to the SEA, which was to be on file for the United States government, he would get his license to fight crime independently of the military or law enforcement. Anyone with a license is a registered crimefighter, and thus can fight criminals and supervillains without prosecution for vigilantism, while also being able to work in synergy with the law itself.
They were to answer to the SEA, itself answering to the governing body of the United States, with the understanding that they could be called upon and deployed when needed. They had to abide by a strict code of conduct. A licensed crimefighter could act on their own, and seek out illegal activity to stop as an independent, but there were rules, and they always had to answer to the hierarchy of the organization.
It comes with a number of benefits, but Cayden felt the downsides outweighed them. The biggest downside was that it essentially turned the honest and hardworking superheroes of the country into government agents in the pockets of official suits. Cayden always had to be reminded that this was the middle ground. The alternative was that costumed crimefighting would be banned outright.
He sighed.
Cayden walked through the front of the office and approached the table. In front was a young woman, a brown-haired worker with glasses, who operated a computer. She was a registration agent, those who filled out the form to get the license, to make the process easier for everyone involved. He stood before her, and she took notice. She knew what he was there for.
“Welcome sir, here to fill out your registration form to get your license?”
“Unfortunately.”
“We’ll make this quick. Please just answer the following questions, and you can go about your day.”
“Alright.”
“What is your full name, birthdate, and place of birth?”
“Cayden David Heller. March 2nd, 1998. Champaign, Illinois.”
“What is your codename, species, and power source?”
“Blindshot. Human. White.”
“Good news, your old Brooklyn apartment was rented by the SEA for you to stay. I put the address on the form.”
“Wonderful.”
“Now may I please have you signature?”
Cayden groaned a bit as the agent put forward the paper. He grabbed the nearby pen, and with a moment’s hesitation, he signed his name. That was painful.
“Excellent! Welcome to the Superhuman Enforcement Agency. I’m sure your fellow agents are glad you came around.”
“Can I have my license, please?”
“Absolutely.”
The agent slid the license across the table to Cayden. It was a small white card, comparable to a regular ID, that he would use to identify himself as an approved and legalized crimefighter. It was something that he already hated himself for having.
“You actually did it!” A voice said in the back.
Shawn approached Cayden, clapping his hands and congratulating him for his job well done. Cayden couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
“I know it wasn’t easy, and I know you’re probably hating yourself for it, but really man, I’m glad you’re out here and not… in there. Why don’t I help you move into your old place? We can catch up on old times.”
“Might as well.”
Cayden and Shawn left the HQ to get Cayden settled back in his apartment. Cayden hoped that for all the self-loathing he was going through, that his freedom and his ability to fight again would be worth it.