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by Preston Norton


  The city was only a couple hundred feet below us. I could see the cars moving below. Several of them had stopped in the middle of the street—no doubt, to watch the comet with a built-on research facility falling from the sky. Fortunately, we had missed the spires of the tallest skyscrapers. But at the angle we were falling, we could easily wipe out a chunk of the city and smash down several skyscrapers from the base. There was no way I could stop this thing in midair. Not this close to the ground. But if I could redirect it…

  My gaze averted to the not-so-distant coastline. I could barely make out the sandy line of beaches.

  I pushed. The metal infrastructure wailed under the sudden pressure, slowing ever so slightly. The force drove me downward. I clenched my teeth, bracing myself against an invisible force beneath my feet and pushed harder. Even though I was pushing with my mind, the exertion somehow felt every bit as physical as pushing with my body. Fingernails clawed through my veins. The Tartarus lurched. The metal surface crumpled beneath it. The glass below cracked and shattered. I angled my trajectory slightly, redirecting my focus to the coast. Metal screeched as the Tartarus tilted. Its descent swayed and curved.

  My feet hit the ground.

  Surprisingly, my body didn’t buckle on impact. Instead, the street was demolished beneath me. Rock and asphalt spewed upward as I slid down the street at a harsh angle, digging myself into a deeper hole. My feet burned. The Tartarus was screaming at this point, its gigantic form casting a foreboding shadow.

  The shadow swept past me as the Tartarus angled down on the coast. It disappeared behind the building-laden horizon. A volcano of sand and water erupted into the air. The splash sounded like a tidal wave and the earth shook, rattling me especially since I was buried halfway in it.

  And then silence. Pure, beautiful, terrifying silence.

  The asphalt crater was scalding as I tried to climb out of it. I could feel the heat wafting up and distorting the air around me. Fortunately, my jumpsuit handled the burning surfaces extraordinarily well. I staggered out of the hole. A perimeter of cars surrounded me. People slowly exited their vehicles, hundreds of eyes pinned on me. And then the voices swarmed, echoing through my skull.

  —look at that—Oh my gosh!—in the name of—who is that kid?—the Tartarus—Holy crap!—was that thing?—sweet mother of—is anyone hurt?—hit the beach—what happened—the size of that hole—!

  I thought my brain was going to burst out of my ears. I bent over, my head in my hands, pressing my fingers against my temples.

  “Stop it!” I screamed

  The voices were cut short, as if a door had been slammed shut in my head.

  I didn’t pay attention to the startled looks I was receiving now. I had only one focus. Running to the end of the street, I was greeted by a long mound of dirt and wild brush. A sign with chipped, peeling paint was perched at the very top.

  Welcome to Cosmo Beach

  I was too impatient to use the flight of wooden stairs ascending the mound a short distance away. Instead I scurried up the mound in front of me, scraping past the dry dirt that crumbled beneath my feet. As I stumbled to the top, the setting sun melted across the Tartarus, jutting out of a sprawling sand crater at a slant. The spheres glowed orange, casting white distortions of light in the sand. Several hatches were open and people were reeling and wobbling out. One police officer crawled onto his hands and knees and kissed the sand as he made contact with solid ground.

  You did it, said Gaia. I am not sensing a single casualty from the impact.

  I couldn’t even form words, giving a sigh of exasperated relief instead.

  Would you like me to hide my power from your mind now? I should warn you that it will be a physical shock to your body having so much power withdrawn like that.

  “Do it,” I said.

  As you wish. You may want to brace yourself—

  Everything went black.

  CHAPTER 40

  It all started when I woke up in Cosmo City General Hospital, surrounded by friends—Flex, Whisp, and Sapphire who kissed me right on the lips before I could even mentally process that kissing was a thing we did now. That, in and of itself, might have been enough to send my poor, fragile heart into cardiac arrest. Sapphire finally parted her lips from mine, and I was sure I was redder than the average Corvette.

  “Wow,” I said. “I need to wake up in the hospital more often.”

  “Please don’t,” said Sapphire.

  “I second the ‘please don’t’ request,” said Whisp.

  “Yeah, hotshot,” said Flex smiling. “Make this a regular occurrence and I’ll give you a real reason to wake up in the hospital, you narcissistic little glory-turd.”

  “Lick my pits, you feet-smelling butt-monkey,” I said.

  Flex playfully punched my shoulder and shook his head. “Man, I missed your ugly face.”

  Sapphire just rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

  And that’s when I noticed a fourth head in my cramped hospital room, and I wondered how I hadn’t noticed him there before. I mean, aside from the fact that he’s a skinny little weasel who would disappear if he turned sideways.

  He still had a swollen black eye from our last fight.

  “Marrow,” he said.

  “Nero,” I said. “You’re alive.”

  “Yeah, well, you punch like a girl.” And then Nero winced. “I mean…what I meant to say was…what you did—Fantom and the Tartarus and everything—was pretty cool.”

  “Thanks.”

  Nero scratched his head and glanced at the floor and shuffled his feet awkwardly. He appeared to have reached his one-vague-compliment quota for the day.

  “You were communicating to us through Morse code while you were in a coma,” I said. “That’s pretty cool too.”

  Nero smiled—like a real smile, not his stupid trademarked smirk. “Thanks.”

  I glanced past Nero, scouring the corners of my cramped hospital room. Nero had popped out of nowhere, and I kind of hoped that someone else would pop out of nowhere as well, even though he was roughly the size of seven Neros.

  But my dad wasn’t there. I don’t know why I hoped he would be.

  ***

  When your life is perpetually weird, things feel infinitely weirder when your life achieves a state of normality. For an aspiring teenage Superhero with an alien living inside his brain, my life felt astronomically normal and non-life-threatening, and it was freaking me out.

  Like the fact that I was not only living like a slob at Flex’s apartment, but I was playing video games with him, and it was awesome.

  “Falcon Punch!” Flex exclaimed as Captain Falcon punched me in my cute, pink jiggly-puffy face.

  “C’mon, Jiggly Puff!” I said. “Get your Pokémon butt off the floor and—yes! YES! Eat my magic star wand, you fiend!”

  I whacked Captain Falcon in the face, and he plunged over the edge of Yoshi’s Island.

  “Noooooooooo!” said Flex—a long, awkward wail like Darth Vader’s infamous “Nooooooooooo!” but several octaves higher. “Dang it. How do you always beat me?”

  “Beginner’s luck?” I said.

  “Whatever. Rematch. You’re going down this time. And to make it especially embarrassing, I’m playing as Princess Peach. Victory and the distribution of public humiliation will be mine.”

  “Bring it. I’m playing as Kirby.”

  “What is it with you and all these cute, fat, little pink blob people?”

  “C’mon, you know Kirby’s the best.”

  “I know that you have an obsession with cute, fat, little pink blob people. That’s all.”

  The next arena opened and we proceeded to beat the snot out of each other to absurdly peppy battle music.

  “Heard from your dad?” asked Flex, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.

  “No.” I tried to play it cool, like I didn’t care, but it had been three weeks since I got out of the hospital and my dad was just as much an absentee parent as he had been for the l
ast fourteen years.

  “Oracle invited us over for dinner,” said Flex, quickly changing the subject.

  “Sweet,” I said.

  “You say that now. But little do you know, she’s can’t cook. Heck, she’s a worse cook than me. And I’m a terrible cook.”

  “You are a terrible cook,” I said. “Like that time you tried to make mac n’ cheese by cooking Kraft singles on top of noodles?”

  Flex laughed, even as Kirby roundhouse kicked Princess Peach in the face. “Okay, maybe Oracle isn’t that bad.”

  ***

  Everyone was dressed in black. It was a harsh contrast to the rich green surrounding us. Soaked from a fresh night’s rain, the willow trees all appeared to bow over Nightmare’s grave. His mahogany casket glowed under the warmth of the rising sun.

  Sapphire gripped my hand tighter. It surprised me how emotional she was over the death of someone she never knew. Then again, I didn’t really know him either. Yeah, we’d spent a few days of torture interrogation together. Yeah, he was the only friend my dad had had in years. Yeah, he had died saving my life. But I didn’t know the guy. Then again, you didn’t need to really know somebody like Nightmare to know what he stood for.

  Havoc—with an arm in a sling—stood at the foot of Nightmare’s grave, separate from the people on either side. Crowds of people who never knew Nightmare. But they knew exactly what he had done for us. What he had done for all of Cosmo City.

  “What is a hero?” said Havoc. “I think a lot of us forget the answer to that question, what with a society that makes fancy celebrities of Superheroes, lifting them up on pedestals—Superheroes who get million-dollar endorsement deals and their faces plastered all over commercials. We start to think, ‘Oh, well the face that’s on TV the most must be the greatest hero.’ He becomes the hero that we worship. But then a man like Nightmare comes along. We don’t know who he is. We don’t know what he’s done. But he’s saved hundreds of lives. Maybe thousands of lives if you consider the impact of what he’s done. And he does it without recognition. He selflessly seals that heroic act with his own blood.

  “Honestly, I shouldn’t even be the one telling y’all this. Spine knew Nightmare way better than I ever did, but he wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of public speaking. Everyone keeps asking me if I was friends with Nightmare. I mean, why else would I join him in his fight against Fantom? To tell you the truth, I had never met the guy. He knew who I was, though. He knew my power. He actually came to me asking for help. And he did it by telling me the truth about what was really happening. And you know what? A part of me nearly called the cops on him. But I didn’t. There was something about him—an earnestness in his eyes—that I couldn’t ignore. That, and I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe that decades of Superheroes weren’t falling into corruption. I wanted to believe that a FIST sidekick intern wouldn’t turn on his own classmate. I wanted to believe that a woman who we look to for leadership and guidance wouldn’t turn her back on peace and rationality.”

  Oracle, in a black dress and shawl, smiled from across the grave. A tear slipped from her milky white eye.

  “And so I fought with him,” said Havoc. “And now here I am, speaking at the funeral of a man whose heroism I am unworthy to express. Nightmare isn’t just a hero. He is a symbol. He is proof that there will always be good out there to outweigh the evil. As much as evil tries to make itself known to the world, the good is always there, silently fighting back.”

  Havoc cast a knowing glance my way and smirked.

  “And if some of that good just happens to be loud and makes a scene in the process, the world will be all the better because of it.”

  As the funeral ceremony ended, I found myself detached, wandering away from the crowds. Even though Fantom was defeated, it didn’t change the fact that Nightmare was still dead. It was like a lasting reminder that our victory wasn’t whole. Maybe every victory was tainted like that.

  “Whatcha doing out here?”

  I turned to find Flex behind me. Like the rest of us, he was decked out in a black suit and tie, and he had even shaved off his scruff. It would have seemed horribly out of place, but his tie was extremely loose, and his top button was undone, adding a healthy dose of casualness.

  “Avoiding human contact,” I said with a weak smile. “You?”

  Flex reached into his suit jacket pocket and removed a letter. “This is for you.”

  Grabbing the letter, I turned it over in my hands. It had the official FIST seal stamped on it. “What is this?”

  “This is the official document stating that you are no longer my sidekick,” said Flex.

  “What?” I said, snapping my gaze up from the letter. “Why?”

  “Well that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “Before I knew that Fantom was a homicidal maniac. Is this for real, Flex? This isn’t funny.”

  Flex chuckled, unable to hide his grin anymore. “Unfortunately, it is for real. But not because of that. I had a better reason for filing for a sidekick change.”

  Flex raised his arm and pointed past me.

  “I know he’d never ask for it, but I think that guy needs a good sidekick like you more than I do.”

  I turned, following his index finger to Nightmare’s grave…and the figure now kneeling over his casket.

  My father.

  Seeing him in a suit and tie was even more shocking with his beard neatly trimmed and his wild black mane of hair forced into a part. His big hands were clasped together, his eyes lowered in solemn reverie.

  “So wait,” I said. “If you filed for a replacement, who’s your new—?”

  Nero stepped from behind the nearest tree, grinning.

  “Sorry for stealing your trainer, Bonehead,” said Nero. “No hard feelings?”

  As my initial shock faded, I smiled. “No hard feelings.”

  “Okay, okay, girls,” said Flex. “This is touching and all, but Marrow needs to go talk to his new trainer now.”

  “Wait,” I said. “What am I supposed to say?”

  “I always prefer ‘hello,’” said Nero.

  “Ooh, hello,” said Flex, nodding enthusiastically. “Hello’s good.”

  Together, Flex and Nero shoved me forward. I staggered out into the open, stumbling to an awkward halt. As I glanced back, Nero shooed me forward while Flex mouthed the word “hello,” winked, and gave me two thumbs up. I swallowed hard against the knot in my esophagus and shuffled towards the grave.

  What do I say what do I say what do I say? Sure, hello was a good start, but I was going to need a whole lot more than one lousy word to take back all the horrible things I’d said to him at Oracle’s house. I still remembered the hurt look on his face. That horrible, heartbreaking image was permanently etched in my memory. It made me sick just thinking about it. What if he hated me now?

  I stopped several feet behind him. I was afraid to come any closer. I didn’t have try to get his attention. My soft footsteps on the grass were enough. He glanced up, meeting my eyes for only a brief moment before averting his gaze.

  The hurt was still there. I could see it carved in the hard edges of his face.

  I lowered my head, focusing on my feet instead. I was too ashamed to look at his face.

  “I know you probably don’t want to see me,” I said. My voice cracked and I struggled to clear my throat. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry about all the horrible things I said to you.”

  A teardrop fell from my stinging eyes, landing on my shoe.

  “And I’m sorry about Nightmare,” I said. “He died trying to save me. It’s my fault that he’s dead. I’m so sorry about everything—”

  Two huge arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I glanced up. My father’s shoulders heaved as he wept into my hair.

  “You…you’re not mad at me?” I said, my voice trembling.

  My father shook his head, tears streaming down the ridges of his face. “I’m not mad,” he said. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”
<
br />   “Dad...”

  I didn’t have to tap into my bone structure to hug him harder than I could ever hug any human being.

  ***

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Whisp. “You’ve never played catch before?”

  “I don’t get the point of it,” said Nero. “All you’re doing is throwing a ball.”

  “That is the point! Here, I’m going to throw it to you. Are you ready?”

  Whisp didn’t even wait for a response. He chucked the ball in a smooth arch across the beach. Nero didn’t move. He didn’t even blink as it came to a gravity-defying halt only inches away from his face.

  “There,” said Nero. “You happy? I caught it.”

  “No,” Whisp groaned, rolling his head back. “You’re supposed to catch it with your mitt.”

  “Why would I catch it with a mitt when I can catch it with my mind? That’s completely ineffective. I’d have to physically exert myself.”

  “Physically exert yourself? Are you kidding me? Oh my gosh, Nero, I’m the one with asthma here! Just throw me the ball already.”

  Nero blinked and the ball shot across the beach in a straight line.

  “Ow! I meant throw it with your hand, Nero!”

  Sapphire giggled as she nudged my shoulder. “Looks like they’re getting along.”

  I snickered but didn’t say anything. This moment was too perfect. Sitting atop the mound surrounding Cosmo Beach, the sunset was a blur of red and orange streaks glazed together on a painted horizon. The Gaia Comet and the glass spheres of the Tartarus wreckage glimmered below. The rising tide slapped against the slanted structure and then withdrew with a sigh. The scene looked just like the evening it had crashed here. Maybe that’s why I was so insistent on coming back. It was that first moment, standing on top of this mound, that I knew everything was going to be alright.

 

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