Adam Warman, known globally as Hyperion, stood staring out at the open landing platform overlooking the city he’d helped shepherd from the ruins of California’s destruction. He was in the meeting room near the top of the central New Avalon skyscraper colloquially known as ‘League Tower’. His armoured suit, the symbol of his identity, was comfortable on his skin — the fabric so common a fixture on his body that he’d long ago stopped taking notice of it.
His hands were clasped behind him in a military-style parade rest, shoulders straight and golden cape falling to rest against the floor behind his boots. His senses were relaxed, reined in to avoid the chaotic chatter of millions of New Avalon’s residents from assailing his eardrums. It was rare that he found time to simply stand and watch the world as it lived, drinking in the technological wonderland of the mega city’s skyline and revelling in what he’d been instrumental in helping to create.
It had been the then-Guardians, the name the Golden League had carried before their rebranding, that had helped Eckhart Grant’s dream come to fruition. They’d fought off major and minor metahumans who were the predecessors to the modern day title of ‘supervillain’, as well as helping with construction and public order efforts throughout the then-growing island city. Those were fond memories for Adam, memories that — alongside his prestigious standing with the island’s citizens — tethered him to the City of Tomorrow despite more than lucrative offers to leave and give patronage to one of the world’s other many, lesser population hubs.
There was no other city like New Avalon in the world, after all.
“Ah, Hyperion?”
The voice of his executive assistant, Kelly Rowan, drew Adam’s attention away from the open platform and he turned his head, giving a half-nod for her to approach before he turned back to the open-air view before him. The click of heels heralded her compliance, and she came to stand slightly ahead of him to his right, her body oriented halfway between him and the entrance to avoid being surprised by any sudden arrivals.
“We received the report you were asking for a moment ago.”
“Please continue.” He instructed politely, though his eyes never left the city skyline.
“We recorded a 7% rise in approval ratings among seniors for a total of 77%, and a spike of 4% among adults between forty and sixty for a total of 65%. Among twenty to thirty-year olds, we noted a 2% approval spike. It’s primarily low because we already have a 93% approval rating there. With teens, it’s essentially the same with a 2.5% approval hike and a steady average of 95%.”
Adam nodded as she rattled off the numbers. “Were the observers successfully planted in the crowds?”
“Yes.” Kelly replied with a smile. “We mobilised the moment you noted the Corps on approach. The decision to let them engage local authorities before you intervened was, as always, the right one. We managed to proliferate a much higher percentage of observers than would have been possible had you intercepted them before they reached the city.”
“Casualties?”
“No serious damage. A few police officers and first responders, and two C-class strength-types that tried to play Hero with the Corps. It’s within acceptable parameters.”
Something in Adam recoiled at her words, but he ignored it with practiced coldness. “Make sure the families of the deceased receive proper settlements and condolences. Find the most appealing of the grieving spouses and children and send me the list for review. Tempest and I will do some meet and greets and offer our condolences on camera.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll make sure the location is sombre. The message?” She asked crisply, unmoved by the cold pragmatism of his words. He appreciated that about her; Kelly Rowan was all business, through and through.
“Bringing attention to the real heroes, and those that support them.” He said easily, a small part of him hating how easily it came to him. “Make sure it’s a diverse collective, too. We don’t want to be seen as pandering to one group or another. Ensure an even distribution of ethnicity.”
“Very well, sir.” Kelly said as she typed notes onto her tablet. “I’ll also try to make sure we have at least one same-sex spouse in a clear line of sight to the cameras. It’ll synergise well with the equality and acceptance conference you had Nullifier host.”
“Which reminds me.” Adam said, turning towards Kelly properly for the first time. “Tell Nullifier to visit the local Navy base at some point. See about finding some transgender personnel for her to shake hands with. It’ll do an even better job of solidifying her as a Trans icon if she’s seen openly supporting others like her, especially in the military.”
“You aren’t worried about anti-military sentiment?”
“No. We’ll lose points among the more die-hard daisy pickers, but the general public will love it. See if you can get Grant’s people to make a statement in support. Something about the League and Military standing shoulder to shoulder in support of LGBTQ rights.”
“I’ll speak to the Consul’s office when we’re done here.” She agreed, taking further notes on her tablet.
“Was there anything else, Miss Rowan?”
“Yes sir. You wanted an update on the search for new Heroes to join the League?”
“Oh?” Adam asked, raising his eyebrows. “Have you found someone suitable?”
“Well actually sir, no. A lot of people are talking about Silver Rose and the Young Legends since Maximum Super Force came out… But the DMHA has strict rules about Metas below the age of twenty-one, as you know.”
“Yes. None of them are powerful enough to count for the exception clause?”
“Unfortunately not, sir. Silver Rose is only B-Class, and there are no A-Class heroes among the Legends. The closest is their leader, Achilles, and he’s still only B+ in truth. He’s gone for the A rating twice, but he’s been shot down both times.”
“Why?” Adam asked with a flicker of interest.
“He’s extremely powerful for his age, and his elemental affinity is impressive. He’s got the speed and strength to be A, but he’s got next to no demonstrable ability to make efficient use of his abilities. He’s too much of a showboat.” She scrolled on her tablet, reading as she spoke. “Our eyes inside Vestra Corporation also report he refuses to do any training, citing his bad attitude, laziness, and a greater desire to remain locked up in a room with Silver Rose.”
“He’s more concerned about his dick than his powers. Why am I not surprised?” Adam said with a flash of irritation, before smothering it quickly. What did he care if the little fool wanted to waste his talent? He returned to watching the skyline. “What about tweens?”
“There are only a few suitable candidates there, and none of them have a strong enough public profile to justify League membership.”
“Can we orchestrate for any of them?” He enquired, already thinking of which villains could be used to boost profiles to the required levels if needed. It was surprisingly easy to leak information to the worst of New Avalon’s metahuman populace. They were, as a rule, both greedy and daring.
“Eventide and Morpheus, maybe…” Kelly said with a frown, reviewing some notes on her device. “Though it’d have to be something seriously high profile. Despite considerable successes, neither of them have really managed to make a major splash. Not that I’m complaining, but they keep being compared to Tempest and Dreadnought and being weighed quite unfavourably.”
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“Well, that’s hardly surprising.” Hyperion said with a mirthless smile. “It is inconvenient, though. Hm…” His mind raced as he considered possibilities, enjoying the little challenge of attempting to match the pair of aspiring superheroes with an appropriate nemesis. “What about Red Ronin?”
“He was apparently apprehended a week ago by the Legends. He’s doing time in Atlantis.”
Adam suppressed a sneer at the mention of the underwater metropolis. It had been founded in the years immediately following the Trumpet War, and was protected by Poseidon; one of Olympus’ other team leaders from the war. While the Golden League and the Atlantean Aegis — the name of Poseidon’s team — had a public alliance, he couldn’t stand the self-styled Lord of the Ocean anymore than he could stand Adam in turn. They’d been on the same side during the War by merit of their mutual fealty to Olympus, but their views had never aligned as far as humanity’s steps towards rebuilding.
Still, Atlantis had the most well-defended metahuman supermax on the planet.
“As much as I’d enjoy engineering a jailbreak to rub Poseidon’s nose in, there are serious threats in there that we can’t risk letting escape. What about Majordomo?”
“He surfaced in England two days ago.” Kelly said after a moment, voice apologetic. “The Lions of London are actively hunting him.”
“Then what about…” His eyes widened as he remembered a detail. “What about Constantine? We received a briefing about him returning to New Avalon, and I had planned on sending Dreadnought after him at some point. Why not Eventide and Morpheus?”
“Constantine… That could work. All we’d need to do is use the right go-betweens. He’s smarter than most. If he thinks he’s being played, he won’t show.”
“So make sure he doesn’t think he’s being played.” Adam some simply. “Constantine is perfect. He’s insane, terrifying, and powerful. The League could handle him, but most lower level heroes would struggle. Morpheus and Eventide bringing him down would make sufficiently huge waves, and we could give them official invites on the back of that success.”
“Very well, sir. I’ll set it up. Should I try to mark it for central, or somewhere closer to where Morpheus and Eventide usually operate?”
“Closer.” Adam said after a moment’s consideration. “We don’t want people questioning why the League didn’t react and overshadowing their success.”
“Yes sir. It looks like First District is where the pair usually frequent.”
“Good. That’s still close, in case things get out of hand. Set it up.”
“Yes sir.” Kelly said, tapping down more notes. “Will that be all?”
“It will.” Adam confirmed. “Thank you, Kelly.”
“It’s my honour, Hyperion.” She said with a smile, heels clicking as she departed the meeting room. Adam didn’t turn to watch her go, instead raising his eyes skyward was a familiar presence tingled the edge of his senses. His expression hardened slightly in preparation as he spotted the shimmer of sunlight on familiar silver armour, and his eyes latched onto the approaching figure of Tempest as she approached the tower — flying at subsonic speed to avoid disrupting the city, as was required in downtown central New Avalon.
As her boots touched the floor he felt his fists tighten behind his back, schooling himself to calm as his wife walked over, her silver eyes cold and disapproving. “Adam. We need to talk.” In spite of public appearances, there was no affection or loving amusement in Alannah Warman’s voice. Once he could have picked up the faint imbalance in her cadence that showed her excitement at being alone with him, or detected the flutter of her heartbeat at the joy they shared from each other’s company. Now her voice was cool and steely, and her heart was as steady as a death march drum.
“You just missed Kelly. She was giving her report.” Adam replied with disinterest. “You’re back early. I thought you’d be gone for another few hours.”
“The meeting ended early.” She responded without elaboration. “We secured the sponsorships.”
“Good.” He said simply, wishing she’d leave. It was hard to be alone with her, these days.
“I heard everything.” Alannah said after a moment, her eyes narrowing. “Constantine, Adam? Really?”
Adam bristled at his wife’s faint tone of accusation, head turning to face her. “What about it?”
“It’s reckless. Dangerous. I’ve seen Morpheus and Eventide in action, they aren’t good enough to face him yet.”
“They’ll adapt.” Adam said dismissively, waving a hand to defy her objections. “It’ll be good experience for them.”
“He’s not just a regular supervillain, Adam. Constantine is a Veteran, like us!”
“Yes, he served Messiah, I remember.” He replied coldly, irritated by her lecturing tone. “He also got his ass kicked like the rest of the Brotherhood.”
“He’s only grown stronger since then! What if he wins, Adam? What if he kills them too?” Her voice rose incrementally, but to his sensitive hearing she may as well have been shouting. “Have you even given a thought to the damage he could cause?!”
“If he wins.” Adam said icily. “Then Morpheus and Eventide will be martyrs and heroes. We’ll step in and end him after making sure people hear that. He’s overdue for an execution regardless.”
“Jesus.” Alannah said, her features twisted in anger. “Do you even hear yourself? These are people’s lives, Adam! Innocent lives!”
“It’s just business, Alannah.” He rebutted with careful control of his rising temper. “This is how we survive.”
“This isn’t right, Adam. This isn’t who we are. This isn’t what we fought for. Michael—”
“Atlas—” he interrupted with emphasis “—betrayed us. Betrayed the League. Your brother’s delusions on right and wrong have no place here. He made the choice to switch sides. Your brother’s a murderer and a traitor, and he’ll get his soon enough as well.”
“And how much blood is on our hands, Adam?” Alannah demanded, her features twisted into something Adam refused to acknowledge as grief. She was just trying to manipulate him again, like she had in the past. If it weren’t for his initiative, his willingness to do what had to be done, there wouldn’t have been a Golden League. Alannah didn’t seem capable of understanding that, no matter how often he’d tried explaining it to her.
“Nothing can be achieved without sacrifice. Without us, the world would be imperilled. We have to protect it.” His words were calm and intent, weighted with his ironclad belief. They were doing what was necessary, no matter how sick it made him at times. “I don’t like the cost anymore than you do, but the greater good has to come before impractical morality.”
“How many people have died because we deliberately delayed our interventions? Because we refused to step in until we had appropriate coverage? Even Anaru is starting to feel it. We’re falling apart, Adam. We’re all just falling deeper and deeper in this awful, awful hole we’ve dug for ourselves. This entire building is built on innocent blood.” She fell silent for a moment as she watched him, her hands subtly lifting towards him as if to embrace him. “Adam… This isn’t you. This isn’t us. This isn’t what we were taught. Olympus wouldn’t—!”
He snapped before he could stop himself, rage and frustration overtaking his control as he felt solar energy roar through his body and fill his eyes. He felt the sockets warming, knew that the sheer level of power radiating into his gaze would be sending golden cracks of light fissuring out along his cheeks. “OLYMPUS IS DEAD!” He spat, golden flames flickering and dancing along his suit and around his fists; the light from his eyes illuminating her beautiful features. He clenched his jaw as he felt his anger reach a boiling point, felt the core of bitterness and resentment he’d shielded behind his duty. Felt the echoes of a thousand battlefields, smelled the scent of corpses, and heard the wails of the dying as if he were back in the War all over again.
He forced himself to stabilise, reining in his emotions as the solarfire in his eyes was forcefully shoved down. “He’s dead, Alannah, and he entrusted his legacy to me. I was his chosen successor. I was the one he named his son. Don’t forget the oath we swore.” He turned away from her, forcing himself back into a parade rest as he fixed his gaze intently on the skyline, beating down the guilt and shame incurred by the fear and pain on her features. The pity. He liked it better when she showed him contempt. “You and I will be meeting with the families of the tragically and unavoidably slain first responders and minor heroes once Kelly sets it all up.”
He raised his chin, steadily refusing to acknowledge the scent of salt in the air that told him she had unshed tears in her eyes. “You’re due for a surprise patrol of First District through Fifth District. You should make arrangements to use the residence there for a while. I need you to secure the area against unwanted vigilantes or minor villains while we set up the Constantine operation.”
Alannah was silent as he spoke, collecting herself and hardening her exterior the way he knew she would. It didn’t matter if she didn’t understand, he told himself. All that mattered was that she listened, and did as she was told. Their mission, his mission, was too important to suffer any bleeding heart weakness. Olympus’ legacy was his to safeguard. Alannah and the others just had to follow his lead and stop trying to think for themselves. He knew what he was doing.
“As you wish.” His wife responded after a moment, voice back to the same cold tone from earlier. “Was there anything else?”
“No.” Adam said more calmly than he felt. “You’re dismissed, Tempest.”
His wife departed without a word, and he heard the distant sonic boom when she ascended above the slow-flight zone a few moments later.
His eyes returned to watching the skyline, even still never truly alone.
The dead were his constant companions.