Time slipped by, hours passing in a red blur. Not all casualties were Capes, some of the civilian shelters had been broken into so there was no rest, especially not with the new golden band glinting on my right ring finger.

I opened my eyes, sitting up straight, and leant forward to touch the man on the gurney in front of me. He was an older man, balding scalp hanging on as a flap of skin, left arm and leg sitting at funny crooked angles. His breath came through in laboured pants, broken by grimaces of pain. I tapped him on the chest, activating the enchantment in my ring.

Instantly my entire pool of mana was consumed and the man covered by a soft golden glow; then he was whole again. It was like watching a movie cut, one second he was a wreck and the next he was blinking in surprise and trying to sit up. The nurse wheeling his gurney pushed him back down, smiled gratefully at me, then wheeled him away.

There was a line of people for me to do, but I sat back and closed my eyes. At base my mana regenerated at six per cent, meaning it would take somewhere near sixteen minutes for me to return to full. With my Meditation perk adding an extra per cent for every minute meditated it took considerably less than that, which was very lucky. Lay on Hands not only consumed all my mana to use but required my mana to be at full.

The meditation consumed me, breathing slowing and tension receding from my muscles. The countdown timer in the righthand corner of my vision read at two hours and thirteen minutes until the effects of the Panacea wore off. There was still so much more that I wanted to do, but I might have to cut all of it short anyway. Life was so short, and mine might end this very evening.

I was dawdling, I knew. Healing people meant I didn't have to get up and face the truth.

I would have to get up anyway, I couldn't stand not knowing. However, I had a few things I needed to take care of first.

I opened my eyes and stood up, apologising to the line, telling them I desperately needed a fifteen-minute break. I hoped they'd understand, I'd been working long past the point where I could have stopped for a break.

The hospital was still a crowded mess of bodies, the reek of blood and brine mingling with their body heat left the place stinking and humid even through the air conditioning. Overlapping conversations blurring into each other, magnified by my powers. I'd hoped taking the skills I'd gotten from killing Cricket would change how I felt about it, but it didn't, it only offered more emptiness.

I wound through the hospital, making my way to where I knew the out of town Wards were waiting to be sent back home. Strider, one of the best teleporters in the country, had been killed in the attack so getting everyone back to their cities was going to be a task and a half.

Weld saw me first. He was the only one to come in from Boston, thank god, as he was practically immortal. You could reduce the guy to a stump torso and all he'd need was some sheet metal and a fork to be right as rain again. He wasn't who I was here to see, but I wanted to talk to him anyway.

He stood up and walked over to me. We embraced, and thankfully the paint job Armsmaster gave my armour didn't stick to him.

"It's good to see you again, man," Weld said, taking a step back and giving me a look over. His eyes lingered on the dried blood splattered up my clothes, though I had cleaned my face some still crusted into my hairline. "You were in here the whole time?"

"I figured it would be where I was best," I glanced past him, catching sight of Savannah. "I'll catch up with you in a sec, I have three things I need to do first."

Weld looked over his shoulder, following my gaze. The golden lines down his face creasing as he smiled, "I getcha."

I wrapped him in another hug, then strode off with great purpose. Savannah's jet suit was grimy, white salt crusting and flaking off around the joins between plates and limbs. She had the lower faceplate down, exposing from her nose to chin. She looked up as I walked near, mouth dropping open in shock. I held out my arms and she leapt into them.

I staggered under the weight of her suit but held firm as I hugged her. It was the first time I'd seen her in person since Boston, and video chat just didn't do her justice.

"Hey," I said.

"Greg," she whispered, wrapping me in a crushing embrace.

"Savannah," I said softly, pulling back and placing a hand on her cheek. "I don't care if this is a terrible time for it. I don't care if I have to move soon, we can make it work. I really like you, would you go out with me?"

Savannah's mouth twisted like she was going to cry. I could hear her heart hammering and she nodded vigorously.

I leant forward and kissed her.

Quest 'True love's first kiss' complete!
Success: 1 perk point, 100 000 exp, Conviction's Rose

You have levelled up!

Her lips were so soft.

I drew back, still holding her close as the Wards around us whistled and cheered. Both of us had big, dumb happy grins. Everything felt light and it like the only emotion I had was the colour pink. I took a half step back, equipping the rose and held it out to her.
It was picture perfect. A deep lush red in the petals and a vibrant green in the stem and leaves, with our names embossed in gold repeating around the petals rim.

Savannah sniffled loudly, taking the rose delicately and holding it up to her nose. She tried to say something but it came out as a choked up squeal and she sniffled again, leaning forward and headbutting me in the chin. It hurt a little bit, but I didn't say anything.
"I'll be right back," I said, pulling her in close and tight. "I have two really important things I need to do, then I'll be right back here with you."

"Ok," she said, breathy. "I'll wait for you."

I leant down and kissed her again, then stepped back fully. I gave her one last heartfelt smile, then turned invisible. I hoped this wasn't cruel, considering I might be walking to my death, but I felt I had to.

I turned away, dodging through the crowd again. Taylor had been brought in, of that much I was sure, but I didn't know exactly where she was. I stole over to the reception terminal, silently blessing that the backup power for the hospital still held despite massive power outages throughout the city. I turned visible again, making the young guy at reception jump.

"Hey, sorry about that, I need to know where someone is. Scarecrow, she's an independent hero."

"Oh, yeah, ok," he turned to his computer and quickly typed out the name. "She's up on floor three, curtain sixteen twelve."

"Thank's a million, dude," I nodded at him seriously.

I couldn't see her straight away, I needed something to sweeten the pot. If she was still up in the curtains that means she was still injured critically enough that she couldn't move under her own power. I could help her there, but first I needed my mana back.
I scurried off to find a moderately quiet corner to recoup and plan.

"Excuse me, Scarecrow," I said, standing outside her curtain room which stood in a row of a dozen other little curtained off sections. "I'm with the medical team, may I come in?"

There was a pause, then a raspy, "yeah."

I slid through the curtain, making sure it was as closed as possible behind me, then faced her fully.

Taylor Hebert. Scarecrow. She was lying on a cot, both legs fully covered in bandages with red seeping through the thinner areas. Her once lustrous hair hung lank and greasy over her pillow, face hidden behind an unsettling hessian mask.

"I heard you helped a lot in search and rescue."

"I tried."

She didn't sit up or move to look at me, so I checked her clipboard. Two broken legs; shattered all the way down from femur to ankle. Years of rehab, if indeed she would ever walk properly again.

"We noticed, and we appreciate," I moved until I was standing within arms reach. "I'm here to fix your legs, and there's also something I'd like to talk about with you."

"Fine," she said, groggy from the painkillers.

I tapped her wrist, bathing her in gold, then stepped smartly back.

Taylor stretched, gasping in surprise. She propped herself up on her elbows and turned to face me.

"That feels… great. Thanks."

I smiled. "It's no problem, I owe you that much at least. I also owe you an apology."

As I said the words cold doubt and a little fear blossomed heavily in my belly even through the [Euphoria]. I had to clear this up, it was eating us both up inside.

"I'm so, so sorry that I spooked you at school. It was a shitty, horrible thing to do," I started to take off my visor. "I should have known better. I needed to tell you how sorry I am, I sincerely mean it."

I, Greg Veder, looked into her eyes and Taylor did nothing.

She lay there, propped up on one elbow, staring blankly at my bare face.

"I should have apologised earlier," I looked at the floor sheepishly. "But for a lot of it, I was out of town. You know, because the Empire keeps trying to kill me."

Silence.

"I know it's a lot to ask, and I don't expect you to, but can you accept my apology?"

Silence.

"Well," I fixed my visor back in place. "If you ever want to come and call me a dickhead or something, drop by the PRT-"

"You're Dark Smoke Puncher."

"Yeah."

"All this time, you were Dark Smoke Puncher."

"I know," I kept eye contact with the linoleum. "It's a bit hard to believe, isn't it."

"And you knew I was Scarecrow."

"I didn't tell anyone, and, uh, I want to be transparent. Give you the full truth," I peeked back up. She was still lying frozen up on her elbow. "I knew since the moment you triggered in front of me on the first day of school this year."

"You," Taylor hissed. "You ruined my- Ooh…"

"I know," I bowed my head in shame. "I'm genuinely sorry."

I could hear her heartbeat. It had been hammering hard and fast ever since I revealed myself to her, but now it was a hummingbird blur of sound.

"I'm dreaming," she whispered. "This isn't happening."

She continued mumbling to herself, telling herself that she wasn't crazy, that I wasn't Dark Smoke Puncher.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "If you ever want to talk about it you know where to find me. I gotta go now, there's something else I have to do."

She slumped back down, hugging herself under the thin hospital sheet. If I was still alive in an hour, I'd do something else to fix this.

I retreated from the curtain room and headed back downstairs.

I swallowed, steeling myself.

"Alexandria."

The legendary woman herself, Alexandria of the Triumvirate. Indestructible. Herculean. Genius. She turned in the air, purposefully, deliberately, away from the capes she was talking to and faced me.

"Dark Smoke Puncher," she spoke, even her very words as powerful and unyielding as she was. "I'd hoped we'd meet under better circumstances."

"Same."

"Was there something you wanted?"

"I need to speak with you, privately. It's urgent."

Her mouth quirked, somewhere between a frown and a smile. "I'm quite busy."

"I know, but," I forced myself to stare into the blank, unforgiving faceplate of her helmet. "It's extremely important."

A moment passed, a long, long moment. She knew. She had to. I was being transferred to her team, she'd read my file. She knew my Thinker rating, she knew what I was talking about.

"Very well."

She turned back to face her retinue of capes who were in charge of important things. "I'll be back shortly."

I drew in a long, shaky breath. This was it; it was time to die. Sorry, dad. Sorry, mum. Sorry, Savannah, Weld, Tyrone and Amy.

"Thank you, Alexandria."

I turned to walk us somewhere more private, but Alexandria lay a hand on my shoulder. It was like being touched by a teetering freight-liner on a fraying cable.

"Why don't we talk on the roof, nobody will be there," she smiled. "I'll fly us."

"Ok."

And so we walked out the front door. We walked out the front door, in front of everybody, and Alexandria openly, visibly, picked me up under the armpits with her big Truckasaurus hands. I hoped this was a good sign.

There was a rush of movement, a dizzying moment of no gravity, then my feet were gently touching down on the damp, salty roof.

I took a long, hasty step back. Alexandria floated; a human mountain.

"What was it you wanted to speak about?"

Through cotton dry lips and tongue I spoke my last words on this earth.

"I thought Cauldron was the inter-dimensional power mafia! Why is an alien going to blow up the planet?!"