by Kirk Twyman
“Your access has been revoked,” the larger one said. “Orra’s orders.”
It was Strength Supreme and Mucus Man. I knew I had to be careful, so I simply chuckled at their joke at first. It was the second-best way to disarm them. Then I let out a sigh as I fished into my pockets for the first best way to disarm them.
“Yeah, you two assholes are funny,” I said. “Blaze brought both you idiots in and you sit here and snicker while his killer is still in the building.”
It was true. Blaze had personally recruited both Supers to the Enlightened. But mere hours after his death, the team had completely surrendered to the will of his murderer. So much for the Enlightened. Once upon a time though, Strength Supreme and Mucus Man had been promising young recruits who Blaze thought would make gifted heroes.
But as I’d clearly established by the events of the day, Blaze had been wrong about a lot of things.
“We’re appreciative,” Strength Supreme shrugged. “But things change, Frank.”
He stood up, towering over me, as I could see his Neanderthal features bearing down on me.
“Now are you going to leave or are we going to have to hurt you?” He sneered.
It was happening again. Orra was bending Supers to his will. He had done so long before, when he first came to this planet. Now with Blaze out of the picture, there was no one left to stand in his way, or so he thougtht.
I had known Strength Supreme and Mucus Man were just followers. If Blaze was still alive, I could have walked in here without a second glance from either of them. But he was dead and Orra was the new game in town. These two knuckle-heads claimed to be Supers, but in reality, they were no better than sheep.
Large, muscular, break-a-car-in-half sheep, but sheep nonetheless.
“You know what this is?” I said, pulling out a simple bottle from my pocket. Mucus Man hissed at it like a vampire backing away from a crucifix.
“That’s right. Acetaminophen, aka Tylenol, in powered form,” I said. Mucus Man was sweating profusely next to his buddy. “You’re a snail and I’m the salt shaker, bitch. And don’t even get me started on you Strength Supreme. I just have to cut a vein and all those muscles mean nothing.”
“That’s quite enough, Frank,” a new, deeper voice took control of the situation. I know I’ve found Orra.
I also know Blaze’s killer had found me.
Orra was bigger than either Mucus Man and Strength Supreme. He wore an impressive cape along with thick armor that covered most of his alien features, save for his humanoid face.
“No need for violence,” he said cordially. “I didn’t think that is the Watcher way.”
“Yeah a lot of things aren’t normal anymore, but you know why I’m here,” I said, cutting the crap.
“Blaze is dead,” he nodded.
“Murdered,” I replied.
“Yes, but dead nonetheless. Now I lead the Enlightened,” he said. “I have finished crafting deals with every adversary that once opposed us. World peace is upon us. Such a world, I think you’ll agree, no longer needs Watchers.
Or rather, Watcher,” Orra said, referring to my solo nature.
“World peace in just a couple of hours,” I smiled. “You’re clever.”
“I take pride in that,” Orra replied, and I see the ranks of the Enlightened fall in behind him. “The days of mistrust are over, Frank. For the good of mankind, it’s better for the Supers to fall under one umbrella.”
I should have been impressed by all the power Orra had, both behind him and within him.
But I wasn’t. I’d seen despots before, even looked them in the eye. I’d learn long ago – you see one tyrant, you’ve seen them all.
“So what does a room full of monsters, demons, genetic mutations, scientific accidents and aliens know about the good of mankind?” I asked point-blank.
I finish off by saying “It all sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me”.
Orra beared down as the Enlightened surround me. There’s already blood in the water from Blaze’s death. The Supers who now stand with Orra won’t hesitate to watch Orra tear me from limb to limb. Some of them might even beat him to it if I’m not careful.
“We need to talk, privately,” I said. “Or should I tell them about . . . Zoran?”
Orra’s posture immediately stiffened. “Back away from this man!” His voice boomed. “I said back up!
Sure, Frank,” he said. “We’ll talk. If you’ll just follow me . . . “
Real smooth, Orra. His Supers were immediately repulsed. In an instant, they parted like the Red Sea to clear a path for Orra and me. The massive Super lead me silently through the base itself. After five minutes of wordless strolling and observing, we stood on the outer edges of the perimeter, to the training ground.
He had led me to the very spot where Blaze had died. A cozy little spot out of the way with very little witnesses. That anyone – save the dear departed Blaze – could have done anything to help me.
“No matter how many Watchers I meet,” Orra said as he slung off his cape. “You always end up surprising me.”
“Yeah, you’ve known a lot of them since you arrived on this planet,” I explained. “Fun fact: you’re the reason we even exist in the first place.”
“Arrived on this planet? You really think you’ve got it all figured out,” Orra chuckled.
“Yep, pretty much,” I said.
There’s no sense in denying it.
“Please tell me if this shit sounds familiar,” I said. “There was an alien invasion force that the Zoranians sent to our solar system thousands of years ago that you guys never heard from again. To us, these Zoranians were like Supers – treated like the gods and monsters of myth and legend.”
Fast forward two thousand years or so when your father sends you to finish where the original force left off and get the material your planet desperate needs – through any means necessary,” I continue. “But you got stopped at Mars by Flare. That’s when you really saw your weakness to fire powers.”
Flare was Blaze’s predecessor. The Zoranians couldn’t take the heat, to put it mildly.
“While Mars was pretty much destroyed, Flare did manage to get you off-world, taking out your fleet in the process,” I said. “But her sacrifice was for nothing. Because somehow, against all odds, you survived and crashed to Earth. And all the Zoranians from the original force knew the good old days were over.
Your first victim, intentional or not, was Atlantis,” I continued. “At the time, it was humanity’s collective source of knowledge. It was only fitting it would be destroyed by your arrival.
Once you came to your senses,” I said. “You gave the Zoranians an ultimatum: join or die. And you wasted no time backing that shit up. Destroying Olympus and removing the what we knew as the Greek and Roman gods from power. Burning Bigfoot’s forests. Destroying the pyramids the source of power for the Egyptian gods.
Within just a few years, you had the entire world under your control. Any who challenged your rule was sent through those freaky-ass portals of yours,” I said. “But just when you thought you’d won, you received an unexpected obstacle.”
There are ancient hieroglyphics of the battle between Orra and Pyron Flare. All of them display Pyron Flare as that ancient classic hero, akin to Hercules, Gilgamesh or Perseus, with Orra a terrifying monstrosity worthy of Grendel or Medusa. Orra is still drawn with his cape and magnificent armor polished. It was a magnificently short fight, given the circumstances. According to the historical record, the young man used his fire to shield himself from the power before demonstrating his strength. Orra knew he was out-matched and got the hell out of there before he ended up a charred roasted alien.
“In the end,” I continued. “Pyron won, and you had to escape in your portals – the same you used to send conquered foes – just to survive.
Victorious, Pyron Flare was approached by an old man immediately after the battle,” I explained. “He was the first Watcher. We’d been collabo
rating ever since, preparing for the day you’d show your ugly mug again.”
I heard the tell-tale sign of Orra clapping. He didn’t look the least bit surprised. Moments ago, he’d been terrified by the truth he knew I possessed, but now, that fear was gone.
This wasn’t good.
“Wow, that was fascinating. How many times did you practice that speech in the mirror?” he said. “But for all you Watchers see, you never see this coming!”
He turned and pivoted with a speed unbecoming his large frame. I couldn’t even duck before a large flash from his hands sent me spiraling through a wall. Orra stood confidentially over my body.
“You Watchers have stood in the way of progress of too long,” he said. “I returned from the abyss and made myself the hero the Dark Ages needed,” Orra explained. “By the time the Watchers figured me out, it was too late . . . for them.
Now I get to kill the last Watcher,” he said, his square shoulders approaching me. “And I’m going to enjoy it.”
I guessed Orra figured it was his turn for a speech. I let him have his moment in the sun. It gave me more time to prepare for what was next.
“It’s ironic. As I stripped humanity of its idol, I felt their despair. Compassion was a foreign concept in the Zoranian culture,” he said. “I really did want to protect humanity . . . but you Watchers couldn’t let go of the past.
When you think about all the good I have accomplished and will do on this planet, you should take comfort,” Orra said. “Your death really is for the greater good. After your death, humanity will prosper.”
That’s when I pulled my gun on him as I stood up.
Orra laughed, a cackling sound devoid of humor. “What do you think-“
I pulled the trigger as a burst of light enveloped the room. The blast deafened my ear drums, sending Orra spiraling through another wall deeper into the base and caused the Enlightened base to rattle and shake from the impact.
“If you haven’t figured out yet,” I told the bruised and battered Orra as I leveled my gun at his prone body. “We don’t watch any more – and you’re going to pay for all the lives you’ve taken.”
I had won this round. But Orra was just one thread in a larger tapestry. There was a bigger picture. Orra was right about one thing – some things needed to die so humanity could live.
Wrath of the Watcher
I watched Orra slightly rise to his feet. There was blood trickling down Orra’s forehead. I had never actually seen him bleed.
It was satisfying as hell.
“Not laughing now, huh?” I said, my power pistol still leveled at him.
Orra said nothing. I scanned his face, looking for fear, but I didn’t see any. All I saw was calculations. He was wondering – could he rush me in time before I took off another shot at him? How many rounds did I have left? Could I actually kill him? I opted to explain the situation to him in math I knew he’d understand.
“All these people dead and you ain’t got shit to show for it!” I said. “My brother, my uncle, my grandfather. This experiment of yours ends today!”
“It’s not an experiment,” Orra said. “It’s a truce. From now on, if you fight one of us, you fight all of us.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I saw a series of tall shapes out of the corner of my eye. At first, I thought it was just the rest of the Enlightened, so I didn’t fret. If it came down to it, I could take sycophants like Strength Supreme and Mucus Man. Their conviction, such as it was, would start to wan the moment Orra showed weakness.
But I was wrong.
The shadows fell over me and I realize I was surrounded. The place was crowded with Supers – the good, the bad, the in-between. There were dozens and dozens of Supers now lining the perimeter, like the entire student body turning out for a schoolyard fight. There were even some I didn’t recognize. But I did know they would tear me apart if I wasn’t careful. I could see their heat vision permeating from their eyes. I could see orbs of light charging within their hands.
All pointed at me.
I was the enemy – not Orra.
It all started to make sense. George Elder leading the government crackdown on the Supers. But contrary to what Elder thought, it was only making the situation that much worse. Orra was using the crackdown to cover up the stench of his own crimes and rally the Supers together.
Against Blaze.
Against the last Watcher . . . . me.
Against the rest of humanity.
The Supers had been mistrusted by humans. They’d been pushed aside, ostracized and even spat on. Orra had taken all that fear and resentment and turned it into a sick sense of loyalty. He’d manipulated the very beings charged with protecting Earth into doing his bidding.
I had to stop it.
“Let’s all calm down and take a deep breath,” I said as I let out a soothing hiss. I felt better, but I kept the gun leveled at Orra and no one else moved. Every eye was trained on me.
“We came from different places, but we’re all here because we have a stake in protecting this planet. Whether you’re a human or a Super, a Watcher or wizard, it doesn’t matter. We’re on the same side.”
I gave a pointed look at Orra.
“Well, most of us,” I said.
“The press may vilify you. The people may distrust you. But I’m a Watcher. I know what you’ve done for this planet. Those people will never know how many times you’ve saved this planet. Those people will never know how close those battles came,” I swallowed. “And they’ll never understand the sacrifices you’ve made to keep this planet where it is.
But this Alien is the very thing you’ve been fighting against all this time. He didn’t come here to save this planet,” I said. “He came here to conquer it. Don’t let him.”
“Wise words from a Watcher. Always watching, never interfering,” Orra said. “And even now, you want other people to do your dirty work. Well, no more!”
He stood up, and unexpectedly, the crowd cheered. Orra stood tall, and the crowd’s cheers only got louder. I saw what was happening. To these Supers, Orra’s wasn’t just a hero. He was their hero. The Super’s hero. And I was the man trying to bring him down.
“I’m a Watcher, and I know a monster when I see one,” I said. “I’m not talking a villain trying to rob a bank. I’m not even talking about trying to take over the world. I’m talking about a monster. I’m talking about something so unfathomably evil that it cannot really understand good. The only good it can understand is its own self-interest. Just ask Blaze if you need any more proof.”
Before I knew it, I had yielded the floor to Orra. He unfolded his hands in a wide gesture as he addressed the multitude of Supers gathered around him.
“He’s right. I killed Blaze. His blood is on my hands, along with dozens of Watchers,” he said. “I didn’t relish taking these lives. But it had to be done. They had become fanatics, driven by myth and prophecy.
Unlike them, I believe in facts,” Orra announced. “I believe the world peace just cemented by the agreements with every major Super power on this planet. I believe in the truce we just signed. As the traditional saying goes, in with the new, out with the old.”
He was sure to look at me when he said old. I gritted my teeth. I came here to avenge Blaze’s death along with all of my Watcher comrades. I came here to kill Orra. However, I did not come here to have a social studies debate with a tyrant-in-training. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much in the way of options. Orra held all the cards. He was the victim, assailed by a renegade Watcher, even as he stood in the very spot he had murdered Blaze, even as he admitted to killing Blaze and nearly every other Watcher.
Except me.
Whatever happened today, whatever it cost, it was down to me. The Supers around me weren’t going to step in. Even if I had allies in the crowd, they were content to stand on the sidelines. I suspected many of them were like Strength Supreme and Mucus Man. But I just needed one or two to agree. If there was even one doubt in th
eir mind, one dissenting voice, others would follow. But Orra was working the room, and so far, I had fallen into all of his oratory devices. I had underestimated Orra. He was a murderous brute, but he was also a conqueror. And every conqueror knew the best way to invade was to undermine the values of your target and disrupt the status quo. Orra was practically following the how-to guide of establishing a dictatorship, and the assembled Supers were eating it up, hook, line and sinker. I had to do something or it would be too late – and Orra would win.
“Please,” I said. My voice trembled and I was on the edge of tears. “If you don’t let me stop him . . . everything you love about Earth will be history.”
My emotional plea, however, fell onto deaf ears. From the beginning, my words were lost in a cacophony of boos and jeers. I doubt many of those assembled actually heard my words over the raging that followed.
“We don’t like Earth now. You humans take us for granted!” a Super called.
“Your government tracks us and collars us. We’re done fighting for you!” another railed.
And finally, it came down to it.
“Kill the watcher!” I heard Strength Surpreme’s unmistakable baritone. “Kill. The. Watcher!”
That fucking coward. Of course, he wanted to kill me. He was scared of me. I’ll bet Orra was proud of his stooge. He was taking a page right out of his playbook. Get others to do your dirty work for you.
“You know what? Fuck it. You people don’t get it,” I burst out, flustered. “This thing is evil. This thing is going to destroy our world. I’m going to stop him, and none of you are going to stop me!”
“Kill the Watcher! Kill the Watcher!” the chant sounded throughout the Enlightened Base. But there were no Enlightened here – just a mob of Super-powered savages.
Orra raised his hand and the chanting subsided. “Who are you going to believe? A man who saved the world countless times . . . or one of them, the same people who collect your secrets and use them against you.”
“KILL THE WATCHER!” A reply came so loud I was afraid it would burst my ear drum. For his part, Orra held his hand to his ear as if he was struggling to hear. I had to give it to him. He might have been an insidious, murderous double-faced sack of shit, but he would have made an outstanding community theater actor.