Like a dam of silence loosed in explosive fashion, every person who just saw a kid disintegrate a burned out wreck and revive the literal dead started cheering like rising thunder. The triage, both those healed by him and those who couldn’t avoid the massive light show and heaved apart ground, converged from behind. The heroes ahead hurried to him with intent, the bulky woman practically charging. Seth felt he knew her somehow but he didn’t really have time to even hesitate before she-

“THAT WAS FUCKING AMAZING!!!”

Before she lifted him up like an overachieving child and raised him over the ensuing crowd. What fibers of his being that could still feel tried to drive his fear, but the massing smiles and joyous tears denied them a hold. Only managing to keep a hand on his cap as the vain amazonian woman shook his drained body for all it was worth.

“Buster put him down, you’re gonna kill him!!”

An almost laughing voice preceded a green gloved hand patting her shoulder. The name tried to ring in Seth’s head but the joyous shaking had rang most everything else out. Buster apologetically smirked and lowered him down into the waiting throng of people. Pats on every surface, forced him down before those same hands held him up. Heroes trying their best to not let him get smothered to death. All the while he was feeling the love like never before… Like he never even held hope for. At least not in this world. The cheering was deafening, the bodies claustrophobia inducing. And it was certainly warmer here, though that was probably just the still smoking excess burned out of him. The entourage of heroes that had once been dragged down by the death they had been charged with circled him and warded off the worst, gave him enough space to breathe and actually accept this en masse praise.

Hand still glued to his cap and head dragged low by hoarse breaths, he could make out his protectors at least. Cauterizer and Depthcharge stopped the worst of the injured and healing from celebrating their wounds open. Terawatt was joined in as well, and was keeping that gloved hand and smile to Buster while they kept a space in front of him. The League was either short staffed or these guys were already in place to help, none of them seemed suited to disaster rescue beyond Cauterizer. Not to mention their reaction time on this. But realties were a little hard to work through as Buster reached out and wrapped an oversized arm around Seth’s neck.

“Seriously, that was amazing! What kin’a power even does stuff like this huh!?”

He barely had a chance to answer buried in muscle and side boob. He half expected to receive a noogie like a looked down on sibling, fretted it really but-

“Buster!! Suffocation!!”

Cauterizer cut in before Seth’s shadowed face turned blue. The entourage finally got the crowd to clear back a few feet and calm the hell down, and ease Buster’s overbearance. Only slightly though.

“Haha! With a power like that you need to be careful!”

A teasing flick to his brim flared his tension back up, but a keeping hand retained it and resulted in only proper eye contact.

“Ya keep going all out like that and you’ll burn to a crisp!”

Seth chuckled along glumly as he lowered his head back down, tension eased away by fatigue-

“Here!”

And a reapplied chokehold.

“I say this kid’s already cleaned things up for us! So that means we’ve earned ourselves a little R&R! And I know exactly what our little show off deserves as a reward for all this! Food!!”

Her other muscle bound hand stretched out and pointed over the clearing smoke of the once crash site… At the Hill that loomed in the not too far distance. Seth hesitated his desperate struggling for none sweaty air. He hadn’t realized they were so close. If not for the complete lack of energy he’d have seemed scared, tension passing as just nerves. A bit of determination and want of fresh air finally pulled the arm from off of him, though it more than likely just let go.

The heroes still surrounded him on all sides, Buster pulled ahead and waving him on with a smile that could burn away even the hardest set gloom. The crowd behind spilling along like groupies to a rock star, coalescing with onlookers and concerned citizens walking their drained city. The word spreading faster than Seth could even collect himself from the whirlwind of admiration. Out loud boasts of some random kid walking in from out of nowhere and healing a bunch of people. Putting Mediknight to shame in a matter of seconds. The clamoring and cheers followed and flanked as he began walking in tepid step. The survivors given back their lives huddled haggardly together, medics corralling them from joining the throngs around their savior. But thankful drained stares and reaching hands met him regardless. Muted and still beaten brown eyes watched him pass, the little girl looking on with understanding deeper than her fellow survivors. But all Seth could manage in return was smile back between unstable steps. A green gloved hand from Terawatt helped him steady his tired balance, though not without a price as he was corralled and hurried away from his charges.

“So… how did you do that? I mean seriously, how did you do that!?”

Seth’s indignation melted to a smirked beneath his cap, selfish admiration helping him get back some stamina, and some reality to the mess he’d put himself in.

“I… heh… I just borrowed some matter from the wreck.”

She looked down on him a little disbelieving, expecting a lot more than that for the privilege. Thankfully Depthcharge tapped a foam finger on her shoulder and glared rather mothering eyes to get her off his case. She smirked and nervously relented.

“Eh, it’s alright. Powers are complicated anyway. I mean… I borrow power from the ground but… sheesh you’ve got it made.”

Seth smiled to cover a bit of real nervousness, noticing the metal spikes on her gauntlet that were pretty close to spiking his head if he turned too quick. A reaction that drove her own embarrassment, and the hand back. Depthcharge pushed her ahead and smiled their glowing eyes back at Seth as he chuckled off the mild tension. Though he now truly noticed the crowds growing along his set path. The cheering, the smiling faces, the atmosphere of admiration and appreciation. It… it was… interrupted by a comfortably warm hand of his other shoulder.

“Take it all in… Trust me this is the best part of being a hero. And the hardest thing to keep.”

Cauterizer was steadying him, looking down from alongside and making sure he knew.

“Hold on to this feeling with all your might, because it will make everything worth it in the end. This is what being a hero is all about.”

He pressed ahead and left Seth to walk his victory alone. The heroes ahead beaming their own pride and nostalgia.

His steady pace felt like it would last forever, clapping and hollering filling every space and smothering him with the city’s love. People that barely knew who he was, didn’t know who he was. People who would probably pity and then hate him if they knew even a fraction of what he’d done, what had been done to him. People that seemed oblivious to the guilt that still pressed down on him. He felt small, every step getting him less and less near his goal, stretching out this… this lie he was only just now realizing was his life. They weren’t cheering for him, they weren’t cheering for Seth. They were cheering for this disguise he slapped on in a desperate moment. They were cheering for powers they knew nothing about, knew nothing of what… of what they could do. The guilt compounded, piled on like nothing the crisis could ever hope to, like nothing all those lives needing atonement could ever amount to. Because he made those his, he chose to hold them and knew their end, but this. This false life, this lie… It was something forced on him. Something… he forced on himself.

He was forced lower and lower, the shadow over his face deeper and deeper. The pain in his chest piling higher, blind core getting buried deeper with every step. The world drowning away in the insistent clapping, the torturous cheering, in all that suffocating love this fucking city showed for its heroes! Everything hurt, every thread resonating this guilt without mercy for the being that had to live with it all. His teeth gritted just trying to keep himself from falling over and crumpling. His hidden eyes pressed their hardest to stymy the tears that wanted to blare his guilt to the world. And the pull that dragged him forward-

“Huuh!!”

Gave him the ray of truth he so desperately craved.

The world slowed, those eyes shot open, and a tear rolling down his cheek as he realized what was ahead of him. Form flared into being without the need to look up, its outline bright against the faded and drowned world around him, against the supportive heroes waving to him around it. It was laid over a pedestal, stuck fast by the metal that impaled it. He could feel every inch like a second body separated. Metal under concrete, closed away and mounted like a trophy. And filled to the brim with power that none but him could see. Power that was alive, that was waiting for him, that was wanting to come back. His suit was ahead of him, the one truth that could burn this guilt ridden façade away like holy fire. A truth he couldn’t fight, as a hand slowly rose up to shakily cling to the only barrier left. To the wall holding that guilt at bay, to the lie he’d made for himself and offered up to the world. A lie already burning away but still too damning to retain. Fear of what would come next flared as he gripped the brim of his cap. But… But he would rather accept the consequences of this truth than live with this short lived lie to its oncoming grave. That truth of his disguise pulled down, let that white hair flow free for all to see. And shine his acceptance of the hate he was far more prepared to take in.

The world came back as that hat was tossed to the wind, to all eyes watching in slow realization. To his hands shooting up, to his eyes burning blue, to him damning the consequences. To the concrete monument that stood before him exploding into dust, to pieces unlinked and scattering under reeling threads lighting up the space between. To a metal storm flying without care for its surroundings, without care for the implications, without a fuck given to the first of many lies he had been subjecting himself to! To each part careening into place, skeleton and shell closing around him in a choir of heavy metal clangs. All of it singing in defiance of that growing realization around him, of the doubtless ire that found footing in this now blaring truth.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The weight piling on as guilt was pressed and ignited, fuel for the engine of this titan of conductivity. This cocoon of atonement building like it was always around him, always meant for him. Chest, shoulder, shin and boot stamping down, fingers and gauntlet gripping tight, plate after plate after plate slamming home to where it belonged, where it always belonged. Finally the helmet closing around his raised head, split maw slammed shut again completing the visage that had terrified many, that had doubtlessly brought this lie about and did such a piss poor job in hiding its own truth! The symphony finalizing as a flash of plasma burn fused plate and skeleton, burned away dust and debris in a simultaneous instant of choral shrill. In undeniable powered fury. In the final realization that the object of so much praise was the one they’d grown to fear.

The crowd was quieted, hushed tones not even afforded as the last of the dust hissed away. As the truth of who they’d been cheering for now accepted their stunned silence. As the heroes who once cheered in kind and revealed in the wake now felt a betrayal that could only be described as total. But all of that didn’t matter for shit! The weight over Seth was his weight, an extension and continuation of his body. Always meant for him and him alone, always a reminder of who and what he was, and always a reminder that he… that he was… never… alone…

The quiet held, even as he called out. Even as he retreated inward to the city in his head, awaiting a grand reunion and a return to the only thing he’d ever missed about his old life. But there was nothing there. No sympathetically guilty Threat to be the older brother he’d never had and steer him right. No rigid and regal Speaker to make sure he was doing what he had to. No voices and feelings that had filled the silence of his mind, that had helped him stymy the emotional hell he’d always lived with. Nothing… no one. The suit was empty, save for the black background that filled his senses. He opened his eyes to escape it, the reality that all of this was-

“…hu”

In a broken frozen instant he saw it, the bare inside helmet plate bereft of its layers and structure, and now bearing a brightening scrawling. A hardcoded tracing of words burned into the metal. A message that only he could see… that only he could feel in all its gold tinted glory.

“I am sorry it had to be this way. That we had to leave you in such a state, broken and bleeding. But death must not come for you yet, you must not die because of our mistakes. We sent you away to give you a chance to live, but we now leave you with a fresh start without our meddling. A better life than one under the weight of our sins. But if you are reading this, then it means you again chose us over yourself, again chose the ones who destroyed your life rather than the only one who could rebuild it. That you’ve fought your own resentment of us for this long is nothing short of miraculous, but we cannot delay fate’s judgment any more. We are turning ourselves over, admitting to what we are at fault for, accepting what will come of it. Whether you do the same or not is up to you, but know that we chose this not to abandon you, not to escape or leave you to wallow in pain."

"We believe in you. We chose this path because we believe that you can conquer the pain and resentment that has built up inside of you. That you can live without our price on your head. That you can live a normal life like you always deserved to, that you were denied because of us. But also we know that you can go beyond us, that you can use this power of ours better than any of us could."

"We I believe in you. Just as you should believe in yourself. We will meet again someday. Let it be because we have both chosen a better path for ourselves, not just for each other. And let it be the day that you have truly conquered the monster that has been the cause of all of this pain.”

Seth’s senses unfocused, the message blurred to a glowing swath before fading away. Before his eyes refocused out the eye slits at what was laid ahead of him. At what damage his truth had caused. At what his guilt burning down back to its core finally found its words with. Formed concrete statues of five… well four figures now. One standing triumphant and saddened over a now empty space where his suit once laid, massive sword still lodged in its place uncovered by the doubtlessly super created concrete. The triumphant was all too familiar, vain Buster still blaring herself to the world like it was the only medium she could. But the other three sent the pang from his chest all through his body like his blood was that guilt manifest. Phazer Shock, her husband Glacial Glaz, and the Elite’s Ziyou. All looking away and up from Buster’s triumph, heroic flight and action stances denoting their departure… their… deaths. But…

‘That can’t-‘ “Hrrggg”

Another beat tensed his entire body, chilled him to the bone, screamed at him in long healed scars. In physical memories of the gaping hole in his chest. All the feelings he’d felt before… When he was shot right through the heart. His memories flashing back to him without mercy, struggling for breath, burning cauterized flesh, an empty hole with nothing but- “Just die already.” Para’s words turned the memory to callous life, fire seeping up despite the guilt refusing in his chest. But the memory did not fade. Clear images played like they were imprinted on him, Like they had always demanded to be played yet had nothing to attach to but the wrong nerves. But now they struck out hard, burned through him like his nerves were molten and connecting despite that incompatibility. He saw his mind break as Para spoke those words again, felt his chest heal closed around solidified hate, felt himself… change… and lose out to the wrath that he’d thought he’d conquered. Thought he held at least a modicum of sway over. He took a step toward the statue. Toward the battlefield splitting his vision apart. Toward the placard at its base. Toward the truth he’d feared he’d learn.

The heroes opposite were frozen, some parts fear, some parts betrayal. Mostly they were too stunned that their trap had worked. But their target was different than they had expected, than Buster had expected. It had to be a trick, a desperate attempt to ward off the worst of the punishments he deserved for what he did. But still they hesitated. They weren’t expecting power like he had displayed… let alone that he’d… care about their hamfisted monument.

Heavy metal feet once again strained the once shattered path, the feeling of talons scraping it to dust reverberated through Seth’s mind as the memories flared against him. His steps were bereft of menace, slow and drawn out like a hypnotic pull dragged him on. But his mind raced by without calm or suggestion. Only truth that he hadn’t seen, even as it beat against his chest for this understanding to strike home. He jolted as his power surged beyond control, as the maw of his helmet opened and obliterated everything in its path… as Ziyou underestimated him for the last time. The sight of her smoking headless body narrowly throwing him to the ground, dashed any semblance of his will to the dust that flaked away… But he kept walking, even as he looked down at Glacial Glaz, red eye reflecting in his defiant terror filled stare. Even as- *SNAP* his foot snapped his neck against itself, and his knees gave out before the placard. The weight of the suit cracked the path back to gravel, rocked the frozen heroes from their hesitation.

But stymied their predatory reactions. Their prey was weak, falling under their own power. But they couldn’t press their advantage. Couldn’t bring themselves to bear against that blank stare aimed down at the placard that bore his crimes.

In Memory of the Heroes Who Fought to Defend Their Comrade

And Paid the Ultimate Price to Stop This Villain’s Wrath

Let their names never be forgotten.

-Chen Ziyóu

-Maggie ‘Phazer Shock’ Fitzpatrick

-Gregory ‘Glacial Glaz’ Morozov

Every word ate at him like a burning curse. His heart had spread that guilt laden memory to every corner of his mind, but had little else left. But the black hole at its center. He barely registered breaking through Phazer’s stellar heartbreak, the… the taste of burning flesh and left over plasma. He couldn’t understand why, even as he swiped her away her horror wrought cry and doomed her to crumbling death. Even as he now stared down at Para’s broken body, fretting and awaiting the… fucking death he deser-

“Gurrhh!!!”

The world came back in the poison sting of the last drop of guilt, as the hole it all came from tore at him like an assassin’s knife left in the wound. Everything was numb, burned out and torn down. What little pride he had never even had a chance to bloom, his actions rendered insulting in the face of everything he did. He just wanted to be a hero, just wanted to give back for all the death that it took to save him, to atone for all the death he’d been left with. Just wanted to make the moment the truth was revealed for good a little easier on an already scarred society. But…

“No… You were not allowed a happy ending…”

A thought echoed through him without care and with little consideration, but he felt it break already broken bonds. The beat of his heart accelerated, despite the hole that spiked through it. A metal hand tried desperately to grip his chest, but only succeeded in snatching its own. But the feeling spread down regardless. A focus, desperate alleviation to one existential attack on everything he had left. The hole tearing his heart to shreds as fast as it healed, a physical bleed matched with the empty space. The pain dropped him lower, shut his eyes, and demanded all his attention. A metal claw cracked the plated chest as it tried to bury itself into it, tried to close a wound that had been bleeding long enough. The other claw gripped tight as full metal talons split open once again and tore into the path from under monumental weight. The clink of moving plates and descending tail were lost as the hole began to rise from where it had been left, as the agony found its source. The chest under all that armor shrank in pain as the hole speared up through it, black metal meeting the black void that surrounded it inside the suit, a shard of Ark metal left over and bearing everything he’d lost to his own broken control. Like a splinter of emotion left to fester. But with its passing… everything released all at once.

Those clawed armored hands fought back that visage, the head struggling as horns snapped into place. As that murderous maw tore open. As all that venomously spread pain and guilt rebounded back into its rightful place. The heroes, the still processing crowds, the wounded and bandwagoning, everyone tensed beyond measure as metal was coming to life again. Metal that had stood up against their best heroes, metal that had mimicked their collective nightmares, that had killed seemingly without cause or reason. Metal that now reeled straight up and-

“AAAHHAAahhhhhhhHHHaaahhhh!!”

And wailed for the pain it had caused.

Tears streamed down from hollow eye slits, a wail defeating comprehension echoing and buffeting their frozen tension. A form they had long since known to fear, that had borne its wrath against everything in its way, was now balling its eyes out like it… regretted it. Juxtaposing and competing realities ate away at each other as the heroes recoiled more in surprise than needed retaliation. All they could do was watch their hated enemy bear his sorrow like the true laceroid he had killed. Just… a lot more poorly.

Seth had lost everything. His friends, his family, his dream, his peace. His claws tried to shield his head from the collapse of it all, scrapping against the horns as they tried to reach a head buried beneath metal. There was nothing left, a single lapse had taken the last few vestiges of his life, torn down everything he and the Garkah had built, torn them away from him and left him alone with the hell they had been sparing him from. He’d killed his heroes… his idols…

“All because of him…”

‘No…! I did this!’

That shielding claw tore at the helmet, raked it as he wailed at himself.

‘I killed them! I killed them-‘ “because of Para…”

‘Because I wasn’t strong enough-‘ “Because of the Garkah…!”

‘Because I couldn’t control myself-’ “Because of THEM!!!”

‘BECAUSE OF ME!!!’

That claw snatched the horn it felt, a foreign object out of place, an offense to everything he’d striven for. An almighty snap of the air, a sudden torrent of sparks both friction and plasma, this offense was shore it away, tossed aside like a castigation for a sin. All as the weight of his actions, his curse, his suit, of his personal blaring hell drove him lower and lower. Dropping everything down just to try and die away. Tears spattered against armored claws as they lost their hysteric strength and fell in his lap. This sobbing terror was left with nothing… Not even the abyss that surrounded him could console his pain, no matter how hard it tried to set it alight.