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The Hero Without a Past (Stubbing in February 2024)
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Shades of the Evening

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Shades of the Evening

That evening, Anne and I sat on the balcony, watching the sunset.

“How’s your drink?” I asked her.

She grinned. “Tastes like Coke.”

“That’s because it is Coke.”

“Goes strangely well with these snacks, though.” She bit into my latest creation. “What are they called?”

“Chicken Sixty-Five. Tastes nice, doesn’t it?”

“That it does. Why is it called sixty-five, though?”

“I have no idea.”

Anne smirked, then tapped her tab. “Huh. So apparently there is an actual dish by that name… and it was invented in 1965.”

“We learn something new every day.”

“Amen to that.” She put the tab down. “The girls we rescued from the mansion - they’re being looked after by the police. And a bunch of social workers.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sound certain.”

“I planted a few nanobots on each of them, while they were escaping. Never really took them off.”

“... That’s a rather intrusive level of surveillance.”

“I know. Just imagine, if a boy had my power and used it to spy on a bunch of girls…” Anne made a pained face. “The alternative, though, is that I leave them unmonitored. And something happens - something that we could have stopped. I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“I trust you, Anne. And - well - if you were to speak to the survivors, I’m sure they would agree. Surveillance for protection.”

“Those who would give up liberty for safety deserve neither and would lose both.”

“You know better than that.”

“I know.” Anne sighed. “It’s difficult to understand where the lines are sometimes.”

“Ethical lines, huh?” I mused.

Suddenly, white letters swam in front my eyes:

ETHICAL LINES

TRANSITION POINTS FROM ONE STAGE OF MORALITY TO ANOTHER.

AN ETHICAL LINE CAN BE CROSSED BY A SINGLE HIGH-IMPACT ACT, OR BY THE CULMINATION OF MANY, MANY MORAL CHOICES HEADED IN THE SAME DIRECTION.

THE NET IMPACT OF YOUR CHOICES IS MEASURED BY THE ETHICS METER.

OPTIONAL QUESTS UNLOCKED.

OPTIONAL QUEST ALERT: REACH +1000 ETHICS TO GAIN THE TITLE ‘PARAGON’

AS A PARAGON, YOU WILL GAIN AN AUTOMATIC +1 TO RELATIONSHIPS WITH ANY FACTIONS ALIGNED WITH CHARITY, JUSTICE, MERCY AND FAIRNESS ON FIRST MEETING THEM. RELATIONSHIPS CONTINUOUSLY IMPROVE OVER TIME DURING THE PERIOD THAT YOU MAINTAIN PARAGON STATUS.

OPTIONAL QUEST ALERT: REACH -1000 ETHICS TO GAIN THE TITLE ‘DREADED’

IF DREADED, ANY FACTION ALIGNED WITH CHARITY, JUSTICE, MERCY OR FAIRNESS WILL START WITH A -1 RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU WHEN FIRST MET.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

100% INCREASED EFFECTIVENESS TO PERSUASION IMPACT OF THREATS AND INTIMIDATION.

… So that’s what Ethics was meant for.

Anne was less than impressed by the quests. “Are those titles really worth having? They seem a bit… underwhelming.”

“I don’t know. Maybe if I was working with more charity-oriented factions? Being a Paragon sounds like a good choice if you’re running for election.”

“Or fundraising for a charity. Wait, did Ms. Taft have a class?”

I thought back. “Social worker. Her faction was FEMA.”

“So if you were a Paragon, she’d have had a higher opinion of you - and so would FEMA… It totally makes sense!”

“It does?”

“Back in the beginning - before the aliens showed up - heroes mostly did search-and-rescue. Helped after natural disasters, that sort of stuff. So having a title that made you likeable to agencies like FEMA - or charities - means they would cooperate with you.”

“And being Dreaded would mean the opposite.”

“Yeah, but Dreaded has its own advantages. If you became a ganglord, for example.”

I made a face. “Don’t we have enough gangs in the city?”

“Not saying you should, but maybe your power doesn’t know that.”

“Now if only we could figure out positive and negative ethics.”

“About that.” Anne coughed. “I might have been working on figuring out something there…” She handed me her tab, displaying a list of numbers and notes.

+10: Rescuing me

Sarnak: no ethics loss

-4: Home invasion x 4 dead - first

+1: Sharing food

Construction site: no ethics loss - defend

Damini:

+5: Saving Hallorans

-3: dead people - first

Drug warehouse: no ethics loss?

Mansion: first punch

-1: per dead enemy

+3: per person rescued

“It does look inconsistent,” I remarked. “What’s ‘first’ mean?”

“It means that your power thinks you threw the first punch,” Anne said softly. “When you fought the robbers, you struck first. I’m glad you did, but your power penalizes you when you start a fight and people die.”

I frowned. “The construction site?”

“The Grunters started it there, didn’t they? They attacked your colleagues. At the Damini, you started the fight - same at the mansion.”

“And the drug warehouse?”

Anne shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was an acceptable target. Maybe because taking down Grunter bases was part of your quest. Maybe the rules change with phases of the moon.”

“Maybe somebody’s flipping a coin in the background.”

“Maybe you only lose ethics when you drink Coke instead of Pepsi.”

I snorted.

That was the trigger for both of us to burst into fits of controlled laughter.

We shall not call it giggles.

Even if that’s what they sounded like.

After we’d calmed down a bit, I handed the tab back to Anne. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably die a miserable death as Grunters surround you from all sides. You need my bots, and don’t you forget it.”

“Not a chance. You should get the credit for it, though.”

“We can wait on that. Right now, nobody knows about me, and I think we should keep it that way for a while; at least until I feel like coming out.”

“I agree.”

“Then again, I might change my mind.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“By the way… did you ever get a quest to figure out your past?”

I shook my head. “Whatever I was before I came here, it’s hidden away behind a locked door. And I don’t know where to look for the key.”

“Don’t you wonder about it?”

“Every now and then.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“There’s no point in fixating on a problem I can’t solve,” I said. A thought came to my mind. “Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can. And the wisdom to know the difference.”

Anne looked at me strangely. “Where did that come from?”

“I just remembered it. Something I learnt, somewhere.”

“That’s the Serenity prayer…. Maybe you were in a church somewhere? Or, maybe…”

“Anne,” I said, gently but firmly. “Let it go.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve already lost several nights worth of sleep over this. Save yourself the headache.”

“You could have people waiting for you.”

“Then they’ll find me, Anne. Wherever I come from, if there’s someone there who misses me… they’d be looking. They know what I look like. And if there’s a chance that I could find them… my power will let me know. Until then, I’m where I need to be.”