“I pledge myself to you, General Darcy.” Paige said in a joking tone as she dipped into an extravagant bow.

I laughed and flopped on the bed. “General Darcy. I really can’t believe it.

“Me neither. Who new Dancing Darcy would climb up and become a General.” Paige said, laying down next to me.

I shook my head and laughed, not being able to answer. The truth was, I didn’t even believe in myself during certain times. Now I had my name on the paper and flying from mouth to mouth.

I was going to change this war.

That was the promise I made to myself as soon as I was given the role.

I was going to win, no matter what.

——

“Paige, step away from them.” I threatened, my knife’s handle felt cold in my hand as I held it up to her throat. I couldn’t stop the shaking.

The shaking.

It was almost violent, no matter how hard I tried to steady myself.

Shaking is a sign of weakness.

There is no room for that in war.

“You’re holding these innocent people hostage, Darcy!” She exclaimed, practically shouting. Her eyes were filled with disbelief, mirroring my own.

My nostrils flared, “I’m doing what I have to do! Don’t you want to win this war?”

“There are children here!”

“Children that will die as assets to our side. A good cause.”

“Not like this.” Paige fell to her knees, her eyes welling with tears. “Not like this.”

A lump formed in my throat, a bubble I couldn’t push down.

“I’m sorry.”

I really didn’t mean to do it. Charlie just kept pushing me. And when she wouldn’t leave my stuff alone, that was the last straw. Dad, I promise it’s not my fault!!

I can’t believe how self-absorbed Charlie has been this entire trip. I tried to get her involved with the magic that you hid out here for us, but she just wants to stare at her black mirror. I wonder if that’s all she’s looking for in her phone, just a reflection of herself to stare at.

Anyway, it’s her fault that the door opened. She was the one that tied the binocular strap to the door handle. Yes, I yanked on the strap, but it was just because they are mine! Why couldn’t she just leave my stuff alone??

An old friend once told me that you either die a hero or you live long enough to become the villain and as those words ran through my head as the helicopters hummed up above me, I realized one thing — I should have died that hero.

Standing here, atop Masters Tower, the tallest skyscraper in Zero City, I wish I had died that day three years ago when everything changed. At least then I wouldn’t be in this situation. The kind of situation that has me haunted be my past, hunted by the authorities and keeping everyone I care about at arms length just to make sure that they are safe. And it all started that day three years ago. That day when I found out that there was shadow posing as the light, a darkness that fell over everyone, saying they were good and just, but behind the smiles and acts of heroism were the horrid deeds I never thought them capable of. And now here atop this world of concrete and glass, I am the villain for stopping them.

I hear them before I see them and a light washes over me, illuminating the persona I have chosen to take on. A once friendly voice shouts over a loud speaker, begging, pleading, beseeching me to stop and hand my self over to them. A smirk crosses over my lips. Though no one can see it through my mask, this simple smirk is a symbol of mockery and rebellion to what they stand for. They, who stood by while the former hero ran around doing unspeakable things to innocent people. They who adored that hero with awards and honours they were not worthy of. They who have turned their back on the me, the one person who still does right by the people, the one person who still does good no matter the cost, even if it means having to end a life.

The voice shouts at me again but it is nothing but a whisper as another voice takes over in my ear. Time to work.

The door bursts behind me and I leap off the building. Try to follow me, I dare ya.

Training and inhuman senses take over as I fall, guiding and protecting me from the both the building and the wind around me. The ground approaches but I feel no fear. Maybe is should just let go and feel the sweet release of death. Another smirk. If only that was possible.

I extend my arms, a wing suit erupting, and begin flying through the air with astonishing speed.

As I fly over Zero City, despite its vibrant neons and constant noise, looks rather peaceful from way up here. My mind wanders again, thinking of that day three years ago. The day that everything changed. The day a hero fell. The day I killed my best friend for the greater good. The day I became the Wraith of Zero City.

“Adria you don’t have to do this!” Ethan calls out, keeping his hand up above his head as he walks closer. “Just, just put the gun down, Adria. Just put it down.” Derek’s sobbing beneath me, some hero. Then again given his family’s history that was already inevitable. “Adria your father wouldn’t want this!” Derek try’s to argue. “You don’t get to talk about my father! You don’t get to tell me what he would want! I didn’t even get a chance to find out what he would want Derek!” I tighten my grip on the gun. “You can’t blame him for his father’s actions! He didn’t hurt you Adria! So please, just put the gun down. If not for him, for me. That’s my best friend we’re talking about!” Ethan’s crying too now. And as much as I love him, I need to do this. “How can you even say that, Ethan! You know what he did! She won’t even watch fireworks because of that night!” Mack steps in, pulling her sleeves up, ready to fight. “Your better than this! We can put that behind us! It’ll be hard but we can! I won’t ever bring him near you! We can pretend he never existed. Just please, put the gun down.” “I can’t.” My finger slides down to the trigger. And just like that. Bang.

They say that, long ago in a time gone by, when people whispered her name on their lips, it was in prayer, not in fear. My shattering knee echoed through the room to accompany the screams as her hammer finished its arc. I think the screams were mine. I couldn’t be sure though. It was hard to imagine the people hearing her name in the streets and feeling… hope? That’s what she was once. Apparently. She heard the stories. How she fought for the lowest of the low; how she stood unwavering like a beacon against the cruel tyrants that held the throne. They say her smile was gentle and kind as she offered her life for yours. That smile was now lopsided with the scar marring her face, and stretched in so much bitterness it was impossible the see the possible kindness once there. But perhaps it was her eyes that were to blame. Their sharpness was cut by all they saw on her fight. “Now, darling, it’s far too early for you to leave me here.” Her calloused hand with the tip of her middle finger missing grabbed her hair as she pulled my hanging head up. “We have the world to save. You haven’t forgotten, have you?” I wondered if that’s the side of her the kings and queens saw as she toppled their empires. If she seemed as cruel to them as she seems to us now. If she ever inflicted as much pain back in the stories they tell of her. She sighed, her black - dark brown from up close as I noticed this close - softening slightly as she reached forward to wipe the tears and blood from my face. “I’m sorry. I know how painful it is to try and survive something like this.” She ran her bloodied fingers through hair hair, spreading red streaks through the ashen white. “I’ve spent months in Melarions royal dungeons. I wish no one ever had to feel even half of that pain.” There. Her eyes, ever so slightly glassy, looking at me bleed. I could almost imagine the kindness they speak of in her stories. “But we both know we’re out of time.” She keeps her eyes on the floor as she grabs the black dagger off of the table, turning it over in her hands. She brings the tip against the bottom of my eye applying ever so gentle pressure. “So I’ll do what I have to in order to save those who need it most. And you either help me willingly, or I take what I need from you.” Her eyes meet mine, devoid of all feeling, and I could swear they turn deeper black. “Please-“ “Shhh” her head twists to one side, her brows furrowed in apparent worry. “We don’t have time for this. We both know what needs to happen. All you have to do, is tell me where that child is. I know you think you must protect it. But is it worth letting the world wither under its soul?” They say she was kind once. That she let her own life nearly end countless of times just to save another. That she let the kings go free in favour of harming those she tried to protect. “I… don’t know - where he is.” I wonder if perhaps she did give her life at some point. If she died in that dungeon from which she came changed. If it was not her heartbeat but her soul that ceased to be for the world. “Oh, but you do” and the sound in her voice truly made me feel as if it hurt her to say. “And I’m sorry to say that you will tell me. One way or another. The world depends on it.” I know the screaming won’t help me. But it seems impossible not to as the blade digs through my eye.

The thing is, you see, I’m fixing a terribly tragic wrong. That’s not how most people will see it, of course, but then again, isn’t that always the way of the world?

You have to be strong in this regard. Steady. You can’t just break at the first obstacle you see. You have to have principles. You have to stand for something.

And I’m standing against you.

I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish we’d had longer to talk. Maybe I could’ve got you to see my point of view. Because these… gifts we possess aren’t really gifts at all.

Don’t scoff at me, can’t you see it? This isn’t the way things are supposed to be! We were poisoned - like lab rats in a cage - this isn’t some incredible feat of evolution. This is a crime.

And I’m going to be the one to fix it.

Once the blimp climbs high enough, the antidote I detonate should cover most of the city. I can pick off any stragglers. There’s probably a better way of saying that, but time is of the essence here.

Remember, I promise you, this isn’t personal. We’re just working at opposite ends of the spectrum. I want to put an end to these powers and you…

Put the gun down. Please. I know I can ramble but you don’t have to-

O-okay. Okay. I’m putting my hands on my head. Please- I-

Alright, alright. I won’t talk anymore. But… just know…

Now this is personal.

Its hard when you find out you’re the villain The deadly poison people should avoid You thought you were glowing with light But in reality it was just the radioactive waste that forms your personality Slowly deteriorating those around you until they are dissolved too

You see him and you pretend to be her You see her and you pretend to be him

Its all confused now Who are you and who do you love Her or him or both or none Maybe you should just leave already so they can be free But you know they’re already too far stuck in the quicksands of your affections to escape

You watch them sink deeper and deeper, unaware of the knife hovering centimeters from their back You wish you could warn them and save them from this tragic fate But it’s impossible to unlatch the hooks you have secured in their hearts

So you smile You smile and pretend its all okay And they smile back Blind to the black radiating from you that us encroaching into their minds

He’s the Lord of these parts. He owns the Colosseum where he makes the convicted and the unfortunates combat to the death. You can always see him at every fight, eating his way through several plates of meat. He laughs and he claps at death. He is a rotund and misshapen and has his servants carry and bathe him. He doesn’t really have many friends, not any that he doesn’t pay anyway. He is good friends with Jimmy, of Jimmy’s Tavern, a up and coming chef in The Lower. He’s probably one of the causes of Cushing’s weight gain. He wasn’t always like this.

Once upon a time, Cushing was a strong, fit warrior. His weapon of choice was a broad axe. He was a keen adventurer and when there was trouble, he was the one to sort it. This one time, he and a fellow treasure hunter were in search of a cave rumoured to contain valuable items. They did find it but only Cushing made it out. He was discovered trapped by fallen rocks that crushed and pinned his legs. It took a dozen men to free him. As he was taken to a doctor, he claimed that the other man had perished within the cave. Given the state at which Cushing was found, people believed him. He had barely escaped with a bagful of jewels. Of which he sold and bought the Colosseum with. He couldn’t use he legs as he once used to and so he became depressed and mean to those who cared. He grew spiteful at those who reminded him of what he used to be. So he felt much joy from watching fit people die. His latest experiment is a little sprite of a girl, if whom is being force fed food far too vast for her size in order to make her resemble how he feels now.

His mind and body have gone too far to be rescued. He used to be great and helpful. But now he is the opposite. Anyone not with him is wrong and anyone who crosses him, will learn to regret their life choices.

Black hats and emerald green The stars dancing in the sky Spells whispering in the wind A black cat is just as scared When it crosses my path

It’s witch-hunting season...

But this time I’m coming for you.

There’s that hero Who saves the day Keeping everyone safe In every way

A devil comes along It touches his soul He turns to a villain He runs down that hole

He hides away In that park Can’t be in light Desired to be in dark

People are in danger They need protection People look in his eyes They feel rejection

He feels he is right In every way But he is wrong With a price to pay

You must not be fooled By his silly games Stay away From his flames

Let’s kill him And bury him so So he can never return And has no where to go