“I keep telling you people no and you keep coming around anyways,” Joracks said to two men in black.

“For every time you say no, thousands of innocent people die,” agent Williams said. “Last week we briefed you about World Thief. You said no and we lost tens of thousands of lives before our team stopped him. We lost 29 of our people.”

Joracks looked up from his loaded fries. “Is that the day you brought soup and sandwiches from Panera?”

“You know? fuck you,” agent Jordan said and flipped Joracks off.

“Hey! Hey. I told you guys that I’ll never change my mind. But if you want to keep bringing me food, I’ll keep consulting or whatever you want to call it.”

Williams shook his head. “This job is beneath you. The Bronze Son could be back saving the world and instead, he’s here lifting steel beams for a couple of bucks.”

“It’s an honest job,” Joracks said with his mouth half-full. He swallowed. “We almost done here?”

“It’s laughable that The Bronze Son has a lunch break.”

“Yeah? You know what’s laughable is that before this, I never got a break. Always someone to save, some super-villain threatening world domination needing to be stopped, or–” he paused, “or another funeral to speak at.”

Agent Jordan slammed his fist onto the folding table. “You taking a break from being a hero has gotten over a million people killed in the past three months.”

“Yeah? Fuck you too, agent. I didn’t stop being a ‘hero’. It’s not a job, asshole. I’ve saved the whole planet several times over. I am a damn hero. I’m just done being the one you lean on for everything.”

“I’ll be in the car,” agent Jordan said and walked out slamming the trailer’s door behind him.

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

“I’ve got two minutes left on my break, Agent Williams. Do you want to ask me any questions?”

The agent sat down across from Joracks and glanced inside his notebook. “H.Q. wants to know if any of your prior ‘nemeses’ are redeemable or could otherwise be convinced to join the team.”

“Oh, god. Really?”

“They’re desperate. We’ve lost a lot of good people.”

“So you’ll settle for bad?”

Agent Williams set down the notebook and took off his sunglasses. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Oh. Sorry, was that supposed to be some big reveal? I’ve known who you were since, what? Three or four years ago when you came on board?”

“I figured.”

“You weren’t a nemesis. ‘The Card Carrier’? You were a criminal at worst. Criminals have simple motivations, simple enough to reform.”

“The team classified me as a ‘supervillain’. I’ve seen the dossier.”

Joracks grinned. “The only way to get government funding and support was to work toward whatever initiative they gave us. Crime was up back then and the president wanted us to join their ‘War Against Super Crime’. Because of the previous accords, the only way the team could interfere was if the criminal was a supervillain.”

“So you didn’t think I was a villain?”

“No. Certainly not. If I had, you’d have been a smear on the pavement. You know my stance.”

“You weren’t the one that brought me in, so I figured that’s why I was still alive.”

“I was briefed on your powers and your record. I handed it to C team. If I recall correctly, they apprehended you without any casualties?”

“I surrendered.”

“And that’s why we put you on the reform track instead of–you know.”

Agent Williams looked at the clock. “Your break is over.”

“You’re right, thanks.”

“One more question? A personal one.”

“If you’ll get me sojok from that place in downtown for lunch tomorrow.”

“That place from the other week?”

“Yeah.”

“It got destroyed.”

“Fine, sojok from anywhere.”

“Sure.”

Joracks tossed the remaining fries into the trash next to the door. “What’s your question?”

“If Patrice was still alive, would you be a hero again?”

Joracks clenched his jaw.

“Would you save the world again?”

“Do you know what I was doing when she died?”

“Stopping a class seven threat.”

“I couldn’t save the woman that meant everything to me from a fucking bee sting.” Joracks turned the door handle with deliberate gentleness. “I’m done being the hero everyone expects me to be.”

“Joracks, if they could bring Patrice back?”

He swung the door open. “I have a team that expects me to clock back in and then, at the end of the day, clock out. I’ll be here tomorrow, agent.”