Chapter 1.1.40 — Like a Child

Paragon. Savior of the World.

His presence alone was enough to send villains running. He was nigh-invincible and his strength was without limit. Fast enough to catch bullets and outrun missiles. His eye rays burned hotter than the center of the sun.

The first time Emmett saw Paragon was when he was five-years-old. He and his family had been huddled in front of the TV—Emmett and his older brother Darryl sitting on the floor as close as they could. Mom and Dad sat on the couch behind them, clutching young Antony. Paragon had single-handedly redirected an asteroid that was on a collision course for Earth.

There were other supers that could’ve done it, given more time to prepare—even a few governments had hastily cobbled together rockets in case Paragon failed. It was an unnecessary precaution.

Paragon never failed.

Paragon was a Class 5 super, a flying nuclear deterrent who literal gods were afraid of. A being so powerful, he spent his time fighting natural disasters instead of other supers.

Despite all his feats of power, the most impressive thing about Paragon was that he was a hero of the people, that he was on our side. He was a benevolent force for good. In all the news clips Emmett had seen of his idol over the years, there had been plenty of emotions on the hero’s face: Grins of satisfaction and humor, steadfast determination, genuine surprise, teeth clenched resolve, and even sorrow.

But Emmett had never seen Paragon angry.

He was floating fifty feet above a slum alley of Belport, glaring down at Emmett. His eyes were narrowed and glowing red—the air around his face boiled with power.

Emmett tried to speak, tried to say something. Anything. His throat was dry and his mouth wouldn’t move.

Since he was a kid, Emmett had dreamed of meeting Paragon. He’d dreamed of this moment. Of being too awestruck to speak to his idol. Of Paragon smiling and telling him that it was alright to be nervous. Sometimes in his dreams, Paragon would crack a joke and make Emmett laugh, and Emmett would forget all about being nervous in front of the world’s most powerful super.

Emmett wasn’t awestruck. He was terrified.

Any moment, Emmett expected the air around him to heat up. And that would probably be the only thing he felt. Just a little heat. His metal arm probably wouldn’t even be left behind.

And Emmett couldn’t even mouth the word he wanted to ask:

Why?

Why was his childhood hero looking down on Emmett like he was a villain? Why were Paragon’s eyes red with anger? Was Paragon going to execute him?

What did I do?

Something beyond even childlike fear welled up in him. Something akin to primal, incomprehensible terror—not of running from a bear or staring down the barrel of a gun, but of watching a tsunami or an avalanche bearing down on him.

Emmett’s mouth wouldn’t move—he could barely even breathe.

Finally, Paragon spoke. It had felt like hours of fear but couldn’t have been more than a minute.  He looked down on Emmett like an angel of judgment, eyes still blazing red, and said two words.

“Go home.”

Emmett heard him, clear as if Paragon had whispered in his ear. He staggered back, nearly tripping over Zanté as he did. Both of Emmett’s enemies were still recovering, but were now quickly scrambling to their feet and heeding Paragon’s command, just like Emmett.

Emmett stumbled past them, not paying attention to where he was going at first, only that he was moving away from Paragon. He ran out into a side street, knocking over a trashcan in the process. Only then did he take a second to get his bearings and start jogging West down whatever street he was on.

After he’d jogged three blocks, Emmett glanced over his shoulder and to the sky. There was no sign of Paragon.

With trembling hands, Emmett pulled his hood up, pulled off his mask and stuffed it in his pocket. No one around paid him any attention. They were paying more attention to the sirens in the distance. Emmett had completely forgotten about the event on the rooftops of midtown. Whatever had happened, it had been enough for Paragon to show up and for most of the city’s police to mobilize after.

Emmett continued to walk West. Head down and hands stuffed in his pockets. He was halfway home before the sirens slowed down and breathing returned to normal.

Occasionally, he wiped the tears from his eyes.

~

Emmett skirted the border of slums on his way home, wanting to stay as far away from the downtown area as possible. He was about halfway home, and the sirens were a distant afterthought.

No matter how many times Emmett glanced over his shoulder and scanned the night sky, he couldn’t shake the fear of being followed.

Of Paragon hanging ominously in the sky above him.

So, when Emmett made it to the subway station on the edge of the West End, he went down the steps and into the subway, thinking that being underground might ease his nerves. Then again, Paragon could see through solid walls—he could probably see thirty or so feet through the roof of the subway.

It was a little warmer in the station but still cool, and thankfully, the station wasn’t crowded. Emmett found a spot along the back wall to rest, taking off his hoodie and backpack…

And his utility belt. Emmett had completely forgotten he was wearing it and his hands trembled as he unbuckled it and stuffed it in his backpack. All this time, he’d had his hoodie on overtop to hide his pack, but now he put them back on like a normal person. Not like someone playing hero…

Emmett couldn’t even bring himself to put his backpack on. He clutched it tightly and slumped down on the floor with his back to the wall.

What was he doing? Running around playing hero like a goddamn child. Emmett wasn’t five anymore.

Who was he kidding? People didn’t just become supers. Sure, he had taken a mutagen (or two), but that didn’t make him a super.

Emmett had even won his rematch with Zanté and Green Mask—decisively. An hour ago, he would have been proud of that.

But it didn’t make him a hero.

None of it did. And nothing would.

No amount of training would change the fact that Emmett was just some punk kid playing hero.

Paragon, himself, said as much. He might’ve said ‘go home’, but that wasn’t what Emmett heard.

‘Go home, child.’

Emmett held his backpack tightly in his lap while quiet tears fell on it. He tried not to think about what had happened, tried not to think of anything at all, but he couldn’t help feeling like the subway was collapsing around him. Like he was impossibly small and suffocating while a dream collapsed around him.

~

Emmett didn’t know how long passed on the floor of the subway, only that he was startled by someone sitting down next to him.

“Hey…” Clara’s eyes widened for a second when Emmett looked up at her. “What happened?”

Emmett wiped his face on his sleeve and swallowed dryly. As happy as he was to see her, he was suddenly very self-conscious of how puffy and red his eyes felt.

“I, uh… Did you see what happened to downtown?”

Clara nodded. “I was in the warehouse district, but I saw. I think everyone in the city could see it.”

“Well, I ran from downtown when everything happened. Ran straight into Zanté and Green Mask. I won… But then Paragon appeared. I don’t know what he did downtown, but after that he found me… He just hovered in the sky looking down at me with his eyes glowing red. He told me to ‘go home’, but I… Clara, I thought he was going to kill me and I don’t know why.”

Emmett clamped his mouth shut, afraid to keep talking. He squeezed the fabric of his backpack.

Clara whistled in surprise.

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Emmett kept his head down, watching the feet of pedestrians mulling about the subway station.

Finally, Clara cleared her throat. “They still don’t know how it happened.” Her words hung ominously in the air until she continued.

“Amarque lost control. They’re a reality warper—that’s why everything looked like it was the end of the world until Paragon stopped them and then it was suddenly fine again.”

Emmett nodded. He knew about Amarque… He’d just never imagined how powerful they were. It looked like the entire city of Belport had been crumbling.

Ignoring power level, reality warpers came in two flavors: Temporary and permanent. The former could usually affect larger areas, but those supers could only affect reality while actively using their powers. The second type could concentrate long enough and hard enough to make permanent change.

The thing was, Amarque was a permanent warper.

If Paragon hadn’t intervened, the destruction to Belport would’ve been very, very real.

Clara continued, “No one’s sure what happened to Amarque, but now they’re in a coma. Paragon…”

Whether Clara didn’t want to finish that statement or couldn’t bring herself to finish it—it didn’t really matter. Emmett knew what she meant:

Paragon put Amarque in a coma to stop them. Which meant that two things:

Amarque had been forced to stop. Either they had lost control of their powers or had turned into a villain.

And Paragon just put down one of his best friends.

Slowly, the reality of the situation dawned on Emmett. “I… I think I get it now,” he muttered.

“It’s not your fault,” Clara said, leaning her shoulder against his. “After something catastrophic, capes get sent around to keep the peace; they tell the riff raff to knock it off, you know? Paragon was so pissed he took it upon himself to deliver the order.

“Paragon wasn’t mad at you, Emmett. He was just mad. I would be too—I can’t imagine having to fight you or one of my friends.”

Emmett just shook his head. He understood, and he agreed with Clara but… “You didn’t see him.”

Emmett couldn't shake the sight of Paragon hovering above him with glowing red eyes. It felt like it’d been burned into his vision.

Clara put a hand on his knee. “You’re right. That must’ve sucked.”

Emmett snorted, then promptly wiped his nose. “Yeah, it did.”

“But it’s okay now. Paragon’s gone and it’s not like he’s going to remember you, at all.”

Emmett chuckled and pushed her hand away. “Okay, you can stop making me feel better.”

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that!” Clara feigned offense. “I was going to walk you home, but clearly you’re fine.”

Emmett met her eyes and tried to manage a smile that wasn’t pitiful. “I’d like the company.”

Clara looked away quickly. “Alright, fine.”

~

Clara looked up at the night sky as they walked. “You know, I can’t remember the last time I walked this far. You’re not taking the bus anymore?”

Emmett adjusted the straps on his backpack and glanced up at the sky before pulling his hood further up. He hadn’t seen anything in the sky, but it was hard to shake that feeling of being watched.

But he was starting to relax, at least a little.

The two of them had walked a few blocks West, passing boutiques and restaurants. The smell of bread and cigarettes came and went with the wind.

“I still take the bus. Sometimes.”

Beside him, Clara went back to taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of Belport. “I can see why you walk. There’s so much to see!”

Emmett chuckled. “Who said I walk? I’ve been taking the rooftops.”

“Oh. The rooftops are nice too, it’s just… There’s a whole city down here.”

Emmett regarded Clara for the first time since she’d rescued him from his wallowing on the floor of the subway station. She wore a thin, workout style sweatshirt and beanie over her head. It was cold enough to see their breath now, so her outfit must’ve been much warmer than it looked.

“You sure you don’t want my hoodie?” Emmett asked. “I don’t really need it since, uh, since that vial. I don’t feel the cold as much. It just feels weird to walk around in a t-shirt when it’s obviously cold outside.”

Clara shook her head. “This outfit’s all custom and much warmer than it looks. But thanks.”

“No problem.” Then, thinking back to her comment, added, “You guys don’t get out much.”

“No, we don’t.”

Emmett had been about to say ‘I can tell’, but something in Clara’s voice made Emmett pause before jabbing at her.

Instead, he tried a lighter joke. “How do you guys get groceries?”

Clara chuckled. “Sometimes Dad runs out to the corner store… Usually he just gets them delivered.”

Emmett snorted. “Sorry, I can’t picture him wearing anything but his lab coat. So he’s still looking like his usual serious self while wandering the freezer aisle with a stack of frozen pizzas.”

“You know he can hear you, right?”

Emmett’s mouth went dry and he stumbled on the sidewalk. “...Really?”

“...You should see your face right now.”

Emmett elbowed her playfully as they walked. “You got me. Don’t let it go to your head.” Then he added, “You know, there’s still like twenty blocks to go. Are you going to make it or are you going to need to fly me home?”

That time Emmett meant it as a jab, but Clara just smiled. “My suit’s following us, cloaked and flying a randomized perimeter. After I escort you home, I’ll suit up and fly back.”

“My hero.”

Their conversation devolved even further after that, with good natured jabs and talk about Full Throttle Heart and other anime.

As much as he joked, Emmett was glad for Clara’s company. Even if the walk home took three times as long as usual, Emmett didn’t mind—he didn’t even notice.

~ ~ ~