Disclaimer : remialcsiD

The Epilogue

Approximately Two Weeks After the Ending:

Greg focused on Sophia's smile of encouragement and did his best to ignore the camera. I can do this, he told himself, this will let me save more people than just responding to disasters.

The director waved for his attention. "In three . . . two . . ." she motioned that filming had began.

"Hi, most people know me as the Unknown Parahuman." And hadn't it been a shock to find that out. "I'm here to talk about the first of what may be many branded items that will soon be available in the PRT gift shop." He raised his foot up to the table and pulled up the leg of his pants. "This is the Unknown Parahuman ankle first aid kit." He took it off and held it up for the camera to see. "It contains one hemostatic gauze, one windlass type tourniquet, one compression bandage, and one set of nitrile gloves." He took out each item as he listed them and displayed them for the camera. "I carry this kit every day to supplement the larger kit I usually have with me." Greg smiled under his bandages when Sophia stepped into the frame in full costume. "Brockton Bay's own Shadow Stalker is going to help me demonstrate the proper use of each item."

Sophia took the kit from his hands.

"The first thing we're going to demonstrate is the gloves," Greg stated. "It may not seem important but part of giving effective aid is protecting yourself. The gloves will help you protect yourself from blood born pathogens and will help protect your patient from getting an infection from any pathogens on your hands. Be sure to use them when they are available and be sure the gloves in your kit are the correct size for you."

The girl donned the gloves and nodded for him to continue.

He held out his arm. "The next thing we're going to demonstrate is the compression bandage."

With Sophia's help, Greg went through the other items in the kit using her as the model and himself as the dummy.

"I want to add a couple more things," he stated. "The first is that this is no substitute for actual training. This is just an overview, I would like to encourage all of you to at least take a first aid class. The second is that this kit can be modified or added to based on your circumstances. One good thing to add could be a CPR mask for example. The last thing is that you do not need to buy this kit from the PRT. The important thing is that you are prepared, both with knowledge and equipment. The important thing is that you know what to do and have the tools needed to be successful. It doesn't matter where you get those tools."

Wordlessly, Sophia began removing the bandages and the tourniquet from his arm.

"That's the end of our promotion video for the ankle kit. I'm not sure when they'll go up but we're also going to be working on video for a trauma kit, a household first aid kit, a disaster kit, and a few other things if there's enough interest. Thank you for watching."

"Cut!" the director's voice echoed through the room. "Good work people."

Approximately One Month After the Ending:

Greg forced himself to stay calm when he saw his father waiting for him when school got out.

"Got something for you, son." The man held up a familiar black shape.

"No need, dad," Greg said with a grin.

The man's jaw tightened and then relaxed. "Why not?" his voice was even and it was clear that he was in the process of deciding weather to be angry or not.

Greg pulled up the leg of his pants leg to reveal his ankle first aid kit. "Already got one, dad."

A smirk appeared on the man's face. "Should have known. I didn't know they made them in orange?"

"They don't, dad," Greg stated. "I made this one myself."

A wide grin appeared on his father's face. "Does it have everything in the Unknown Parahuman's kit?"

"Plus a CPR mask, a chest seal, and an elastic tourniquet for people that are too small or too big for the windless."

"Should have known that my son would be more on the ball than his old man," his father laughed. The man turned to Sophia who's glare had been fixed on him from the moment she saw him. "What about you?"

"Right leg," she said through clenched teeth.

"Good." Greg's father made a sharp nod. "Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, both of you."

Approximately Two Months After the Ending:

Greg took a deep breath and let it out. At his side and in costume Sophia seemed calm and composed. Just why in the hell had he let her talk him into this again?

The director held up three fingers . . . two . . . one . . . and waved.

"Hi," he began. "By popular request we've decided to release a video series on basic first aid and disaster preparedness. I want to begin by begging you to get in person instruction on how to do the techniques that we're about to show. A video is no substitute for in person training." He took a deep breath. "In this video, we're going to demonstrate the Heimlich maneuver, CPR, and the kiss of life. I'd like to begin by thanking Shadow Stalker for agreeing to help me and for agreeing to get a new mask with an openable mouth to demonstrate the kiss of life, also called mouth to mouth."

She stepped in front of him and raised both hands to her throat.

"This," Greg began. "Is the universal sign to indicate that you are choking. To aid a choking individual, first begin by asking them if they are choking."

Approximately Six Months After the Ending:

David eyed the cape with a frown, wondering not for the first time why he'd been told to talk to him and also why he'd agreed.

"Hi," the bandage wrapped figure said cheerfully. "How are you today?"

"I'll be better after I find out what you want," David said bluntly.

The figure nodded. "I want to stop the Endbringers and I want to save the world."

"So?"

"So I think I know how and I think that you're the one to go to in order to make that happen."

David leaned forward, suddenly interested in the conversation. "Tell me more."

Approximately Two Years After the Ending:

The intake officer froze when she saw the two identically dressed figures enter the lobby of the PRT building within moments of each other. The one on the left was a familiar sight to anyone who'd ever worked the desk during an emergency. Her hand hovered over the duress button, not many capes would be happy to find out that someone had stolen their look. Hopefully the Unknown Parahuman would be an exception.

The atmosphere felt like a gunfight in a western movie. Everyone was silent. Everyone was waiting to see who would make the first move. The two identical figures though seemed to ignore the tension, the larger one in the worn costume following the slightly smaller one in the new looking costume to the desk.

"Put us both on search and rescue," the Unknown Parahuman in the new looking costume ordered in an unmistakably feminine voice.

"Y-yes, ma'am," the intake officer agreed, eyes flicking between the two of them.

"I know the way," the one in the worn outfit stated. "Do we need to wait for an escort or can we just go up?"

"You can just go up, sir."

IIIIIIIIII

"Hey, Emma," Taylor flopped down next to her best friend. "Have you seen Sophia?"

"Not since she disappeared with Greg after the endbringer sirens went off."

"But that was two days ago," Taylor protested. "What are they doing that would cause them to be gone that long?"

Emma smirked. "We really need to get you a boyfriend so you can find out the answer for that question for yourself."

Taylor blushed a deep red. "Emma!"

"Especially with one as dreamy as Greg," she continued. "Who'd have thought that Creepy Veder would fill out so nicely as he grew up. Bet you're regretting the fact that you didn't put in the work when we were in junior high, aren't you?" Taylor broke eye contact. "No?" The girl's smirk deepened. "Should we be looking for a girlfriend for you instead?"

Taylor's focus dropped to her shoes. "Stop teasing me."

"Sorry, but it's so easy and you look so adorable when I do," Emma giggled.

"I do not," Taylor protested. "I look like a-"

"Trust me," her best friend interrupted. "You look just like Aunt Annette and no one would call her anything but stunningly beautiful."

Taylor's blush deepened. "Can we change the subject?"

"Sure." Emma's voice dropped. "How's the job going?"

Taylor glanced around to make sure no one was near them. "Good. They told me to stand by and not drink any alcohol or do anything else that would impair my judgement until after they either gave up searching for survivors or accounted for everyone when they released us after the all clear sounded."

Emma licked her lips. "What was it like?"

"Scary," Taylor admitted. "Even knowing that it was in another city, it was terrifying."

"I bet," Emma said with a nod. "I was scared just knowing that you were on duty. I'm really glad you didn't volunteer."

"Not much point," Taylor said, sounding a touch bitter. "What use would my power be against an endbringer?"

Emma shrugged. "The most famous parahuman from the Bay does search and rescue. I bet you'd be really good at that."

"I suppose," Taylor agreed.

"Please don't volunteer to go though," Emma begged.

"I said that I'd help with search and rescue after the all clear if they needed me," Taylor stated. "They said that they didn't think I'd be needed since there were so many volunteers and that they'd call me if they needed me."

"Good." Emma allowed herself to relax. "Speaking of the most famous parahuman in the bay, did you meet him?"

"No. I did see him though and . . . I'm not sure if it's on PHO yet so don't spread it around."

"Of course not," Emma promised, visibly excited to get a chance to learn cape gossip not yet known to the public.

"He wasn't alone."

"What?" she gasped. "Who was with him?"

Taylor shrugged. "I don't know. They were dressed exactly like he was. Exactly the same costume."

"Cool." Emma's eyes were wide. "What about other heroes? Have you met everyone else yet?"

"Everyone except Shadow Stalker," Taylor replied. "Apparently she only comes in a couple times a month to check in unless they need her for something."

"And none of the times you've been working matched up with her schedule," Emma finished.

"Nope," Taylor agreed.

"Damn. See if you can get an autograph for me so I can complete the set."

"I'll ask if it doesn't seem like she'd mind," Taylor promised.

"Great!" Emma cheered. "I'll frame it and put it right next to the signed photo of the Bay's best hero."

"You know that Armsmaster built a machine to turn those out, right? He doesn't do them himself."

"Not him, silly, Queen Bee."

"Me?" Taylor squeaked.

"Best hero in the Bay and best friend I could ever have."

Approximately Five Years After the Ending:

"Hey, Amy, how're things going?"

She paused for a second, her look of confusion turning to one of recognition. "D-Clockblocker?"

"Been a while, huh?" the man asked with a tight smile. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "You?"

"As well as to be expected, considering the circumstances," he forced a laugh.

"When did you start coming to endbringer fights?"

"Six months after I transferred to the Miami Protectorate. This is my third."

Amy nodded. "You're going to be alright. Drop by the Bay in a couple weeks and I'll regrow your leg."

"Thanks. I was hoping you'd say that. "Could you do me a favor?"

"What?" Panacea's eyes narrowed.

"Thank the Unknown Parahuman for me. Blue Fox was the one that stopped me from bleeding out but the Unknown Parahuman is the one that got them to start passing out first aid kits." He grinned again. "I lost mine when I lost the leg, but she still had hers and that's why I'm still here."

"I will," Amy promised. "There's been a lot of that going around. You'd be surprised."

"I wouldn't. Three at my branch alone, at this point he's probably saved more lives by getting capes to carry first aid kits than by showing up to these things."

"Probably," Amy agreed.

Approximately Twelve Years After the Ending:

"I'll be honest, I never thought you'd leave this office while you were still alive," Lighting Lass admitted.

"I spend more time in my lab than I do here," Armsmaster pointed out.

"Not what I meant and you know it," Lightning Lass snorted. "Hell, the only reason you gave me ENE was because you were taking over from Legend."

"True," Armsmaster admitted.

"So what gives?"

"Dragon wishes to have children and believes that she has found a way to safely do so despite the difficulties involved and I do not believe that I have sufficient time to be the head of the Protectorate, tinker, fight crime, and to be a father to a child."

"Congratulations, Colin. I'm really happy for you both."

"Thank you."

"So you're going to focus on tinkering and being a dad, huh? I still have trouble believing that you're giving me the big chair, but I'm honored to be your choice of a successor."

"The fact that you and all of the successive holders of this office will know that nothing you do will so much as equal the fact that final victory over the endbringers was achieved under my leadership certainly made the decision much easier than would have otherwise been the case," Armsmaster added dryly.

Susan snorted. "Or the fact that nothing you do will ever top it."

"Indeed."

"I'm gonna miss you, you socially awkward asshole," Susan sniffed.

"I have taken the liberty of installing a video conference room in my new residence," Colin said slowly. "So that you can call me if you need advise on how to adjust to your new position and so that my first child can more easily spend time with her godmother."

"Godmother?"

"That is, assuming that you agree."

"It would be an honor and a privilege, Colin."

IIIIIIIIII

Lightning Lass allowed her gaze to sweep over the crowd, letting it linger just for a moment on a man in the back standing next to the one of her former wards out of costume. The couple shot her thumbs up in return.

"I never thought I'd leave this town alive," she began. "Never thought I'd be the head of a branch either to be honest. I was sure that I'd die alone in some alley or in an endbringer fight in some random city." She sighed. "That almost happened in my first endbringer fight and it was only due to the Unknown Parahuman that I'm here today." Her lips formed a smile, a genuine one rather than the PR approved smile she used at most events. "And now the endbringers are gone and I'm leaving Brockton Bay to become the head of the Protectorate. I have to be honest, the Bay has been my home for almost twenty years and I don't like the idea of leaving it, but I feel safe doing so if only because I know that I'm leaving it to the best hero I have."

Taylor, in costume, stepped onto the stage as Grand Funk Railroad began blasting through the speakers.

Lightning Lass continued. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honer to present to you the new head of Brockton Bay's Protectorate, Queen Bee."

"I'm gonna steal you from your hive!" a red head in the front row sang at the top of her lungs.

Taylor resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she took her place at the podium. She didn't know how Emma was able to get PR to agree to the theme music but she hoped it wouldn't become an ongoing thing.

"Steal you away from every man alive!" Taylor's companion since childhood continued. "They can't see what you mean to me! Queen Bee!"

Approximately Twenty Years After the Ending:

"Hi, I'm Sandra O'Fallon with World News Tonight and we're here with former PRT Chief Director James Tagg. Chief Director Tagg, it's been ten years since the final victory over the endbringers, I was wondering if we could get your thoughts on what happened.

"Of course," the old man agreed with an easy smile.

"The endbringers rampaged across the world for years, what changed to allow the Protectorate and the PRT under your leadership to stop them?"

"I got a call from the Unknown Parahuman after one of the fights." The old man paused. "I think it was the one that brought him to the attention of the public."

"The one where he stared down the Leviathan."

"I believe so, yes," the old man agreed. "He told me that the world was broken. I replied that I knew that, and something along the lines of it being the job of men like us to keep it together as long as possible so more people didn't realize it. I was worried that he might be . . . well, the important thing was his reply. He told me that the world was broken but that he knew how to fix it and that he'd need my help to do it. What else could I do but agree?"

"So that was the turning point?" the reporter asked eagerly.

"It was," the old man agreed. "It was when we stopped trying and failing to hold the line and when we started fighting back."

"Could you tell us a little about the original Unknown Parahuman?"

"Not a lot," Tagg admitted. "I never knew him without the mask, so to speak. The man I knew was an absolutely dedicated professional. He knew his stuff and he was willing to do absolutely anything to do whatever needed to be done no matter how dirty or dangerous or unpleasant it was."

Sandra nodded. "Most people know about the Unknown Parahuman from the mini-series they did on his life, One Against the Terror. Did you have a chance to watch it?"

"I did, and from what I know, it was fairly accurate."

"Even the part when he built a life raft out of debris after being swept out to sea?"

"If anything they underplayed it." Tagg nodded. "I don't know about the portrayal of his personal life, but the cape scenes must have been written by someone who had access to the official reports. According to Gorilla Green, the cape he saved, the Unknown Parahuman tread water for two days straight while building the raft to save his life. One thing the film did not mention was that the Unknown Parahuman had a crushed foot while he did it."

Sandra gasped. "The pain must have been incredible."

Tagg nodded in agreement. "Like I said before. Once he had a goal, he would do anything, absolutely anything to accomplish it and he would allow absolutely nothing to stop him. He also tried to refuse medical aid because, quote, Panacea looked like she needed a break and he'd be fine."

"I remember that scene," Sandra said. "It was one of my favorites along with the one where he demanded the rescue swimmer save Gorilla Green first."

"Also happened and also only half the story. The Coastguard swimmer stated the Unknown Parahuman told him to take Gorilla Green and that he'd be fine on his own." Tagg smiled. "He didn't know there was enough room on the helicopter for both of them and was prepared to swim back to shore."

"Guess the director thought no one would believe the truth," Sandra laughed.

Tagg nodded in agreement. "I suspect most of the parts they got wrong were the same; changed to be more believable while still being mostly true."

"So you can't confirm that he got his powers while rescuing people from a burning building?"

"Unfortunately no," James laughed. "But I will say that getting powers after collapsing from exhaustion so that he could save even more people would have been just like him. He was like no one else I ever met."

The camera man made a slashing motion across his throat.

"And we're on commercial," Sandra stated. "Do you mind if I move on to other subjects after the break?"

The old man shrugged. "Depends on what you want to ask about."

"The new head of the Protectorate, the new Chief Director of the PRT, and containment zone policy."

"Fire away."

"Even about containment zones? People are starting to say that you were unnecessarily brutal when you were in charge of enforcing them."

"Good. Ask away."

The cameraman held up a hand. "In three . . . two . . ."

"We're back with James Tagg, former Chief Director of the PRT. Chief Director Tagg, I have to ask, do you know what the Unknown Parahuman's power was?

"He never came in for power testing but our best guess was that he was a high level thinker of some sort, possibly a grab bag with the power to affect probability." The old man shrugged. "I wish I knew."

"Some people think that Scion was responsible for the endbringers since his disappearance coincided with the victory against the living disasters. What do you think?"

James shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I'd say that it's equally likely that he sacrificed himself in one of the final battles. I suppose the only one who might know is the Unknown Parahuman and he isn't talking."

"A pity we can't get him on this show," Sandra sighed.

"It is," James agreed.

"Do you know why he decided to retire?"

"Retire? He's still active," James said with a grin. "Hundreds of him arrive to help with every disaster. Over a dozen from Brockton Bay alone. It's become something of a tradition for Brockton Bay parahumans to switch costumes when they go on humanitarian missions."

Sandra laughed. "But aren't those just people wearing versions of his iconic costume? I'm talking about the original Unknown Parahuman."

"Who can say that the original isn't joining in? It'd be just like him to quietly show up to help without saying anything. He'd just be one more wrapped face in a crowd of wrapped faces."

The camera man signaled for her to wrap it up.

"Who'd be able to tell indeed."

The camera man made a slashing motion across his throat.

"We're on commercial again." Sandra sighed. "If you don't mind, I'll ask about the containment zones next before moving on to talk about current events. It'll let us end on a high note."

"However you want to do it," Tagg shrugged.

"You're really okay talking about the containment zones?"

"In general terms, yes. In detail, no. I destroyed every record we had on them after they were no longer necessary for a reason."

The cameraman held up a hand. "In three . . . two . . ."

"We're back with former Chief Director of the PRT James Tagg. Chief Director Tagg, a lot of people are criticizing you due to your work enforcing containment areas. They say that the containment zones were unnecessary. They say that they violated the rights of everyone in them, that they were needlessly cruel, and that they were crimes against humanity. What is your response to all the criticism."

"I assume you're referring to the Simurgh containment zones rather than zones like Ellisburg and Eagleton."

"You assume correctly, Chief Director Tagg."

"I couldn't be happier to hear it. It says a lot about how far we've come. Twenty, hell, ten years ago no one questioned them because they knew that they were necessary. Did they violate the rights of every unfortunate soul stuck in them? Yes. Were they needlessly cruel? Unfortunately yes. We had neither the time nor the resources to improve the conditions of the permanent zones. Were they crimes against humanity? I would say they were, or at the very least that they were crimes against their prisoners. But, they were also necessary. Much as I wish it were otherwise, they were absolutely necessary."

"Thank you for answering that question, Chief Director Tagg. I understand that it couldn't have been easy."

"The public has a right to know what we do in their name and why we do it," James stated calmly.

"Indeed. Do you mind sharing your opinion of the new Chief Director of the PRT.

"Susan, Chief Director Hernandez, is the standard that every other Chief Director will be judged against. She had an absolutely stellar career as an agent and she is a more than capable administrator. I could not have asked for a better successor."

"Many people are wondering why your deputy didn't take your position after your retirement."

"The only reason Emily stayed as long as she did is because I literally got on my knees and begged her to and even then I had to agree to give her something that I'd been refusing to give her for almost two decades. She was not going to agree to stay on no matter what she was offered."

"I see. Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't Deputy Director Piggot the Director of the Brockton Bay PRT before she became your deputy?"

"She was, yes."

"They're calling Brockton Bay the 'Brass Maker' on PHO because the last three heads of the Protectorate were all formerly the heads of the ENE."

"Along with my deputy and I believe the current Chief Director spent some time there as an agent but I'd have to call her to confirm that. It was a very rough town in the old days. To mangle a saying, if you could make it there then you could make it anywhere. Armsmaster, Lightning Lass, and now Queen Bee all prove that."

"Would you mind sharing some brief thoughts on each one of them?"

"Not at all."

"Regarding Armsmaster, there are rumors that he was . . . uh . . ."

"An arrogant glory hound?" Tagg suggested with a grin.

"Your words, Chief Director, not mine."

"Armsmaster is, in a word, dedicated. He also has a sense of humor that was hard for most people to understand." James snorted. "For example, I heard that he told Lightning Lass that he was giving the big chair to her safe in the knowledge that neither she nor anyone who followed her would ever be able to top the final victory over the endbringers. The next thing he told her was that he wanted her to be the godmother of his first child and that the other reason he was so willing to go was that he knew that there was no one better to succeed him. He's a very complicated man."

"So it seems. What about Lightning Lass?"

"The word that I'd use to describe Lightning Lass is." James paused to think. "Professional. She's the one you go to if you absolutely need something done right. She is superb."

"Which brings us to Queen Bee?"

"Ruthless," James said without a hint of hesitation. "She is the best friend you could ever have and the most terrifying enemy. She's also the nicest person in the world until it's time to be not nice. I'd like to advise everyone to avoid making Queen Bee not nice. You wouldn't like her when she's not nice."

Approximately Thirty Years After the Ending:

Queen Bee stepped up to the podium beside the large sheet covered statue and waited for the crowd to go silent before signaling for the sheet to be removed. She gave the crowd a few seconds to examine the monument which consisted of the Unknown Parahuman bending down with a hand outstretched to a statue of Lighting Lass. Below it was the caption: It's okay, you're going to be alright. I promise. Flanked on either side were stone slabs bearing the name of every Brockton Bay responder that had given their lives in the fight against the endbringers.

"It's been twenty years since we achieved victory," Taylor's voice cut through the silence. "While Brockton Bay was fortunate to never suffer an attack, we still paid a price." Her head dropped. "There are nearly one hundred names on that monument." She shook her head. "We got off easy. Only ninety two fatalities."

Her gaze swept over the crowd. "Two people are responsible for our good fortune. Panacea." Taylor smirked. "Who threatened to give me explosive diarrhea if I approved the statue we planned to build for her." She paused for the crowd to chuckle. "And the Unknown Parahuman who said he guessed his outfit was generic enough to pass for just about any first responder." She had to wait for a couple of minutes for the laughter to die down, before she could continue this time. The woman turned to focus her attention on the monument. "This depicts an event his first endbringer battle, his saving of the life of Lightning Lass. Who, I'm sure you all remember was my predecessor at Brockton Bay and of the Protectorate as a whole."

She sighed. "The Chief Director is at the unveiling of the national monument but I had to come home for this one. A good portion of you are too young to remember what it was like, maybe you think it couldn't have been as bad as we say it was." She turned back to the crowd and paused for a few moments to heighten the tension. "It was worse. No matter how bad you think it was, it was far far worse. This monument and the ones like it were built by those of us who experienced it to ensure that the world never forgets what we suffered, what we lost, and what we owe to the brave men and women who lost their lives in the fight against the endbringers."

IIIIIIIIII

Lincoln Lefebvre had an appropriately somber look on his face as he pulled the sheet off the monument to reveal a smiling man with a microphone in one hand while his other gave the middle finger towards the sea.

"Bet a bunch of you don't know who he was," the head of the Screen Actor's guild stated. "You're too young. This is Robin Williams, one of the greatest comedians of his age and it shows what he looked like about two seconds before he was hit by a Tsunami." He glanced back at the statue. "It was the fifth endbringer fight and most of us didn't know how bad they were going to get. Since it was our town that was about to get hit he, along with a dozen other actors, volunteered to go and entertain the capes before the fight. I was seventeen years old and I remember watching him crack jokes on TV as the sky got darker and darker. The other actors pulled back but he just said that the show had to go on and kept up his routine." The five time best actor dropped his head. "He was still going when the camera cut out. Didn't miss a beat."

IIIIIIIIII

Gorilla Green had a smile on his face when he stepped up to the podium.

"Glad to be back!" the cape said loudly. "Very glad it's under better circumstances than my last visit." They'd done a good job on the monument, the large man thought in approval. A raft made of debris, a big lunk laying on it, and a kid arguing with a Coastguard rescue swimmer. "That right there really happened. It was the first of the three endbringer fights I went to. It's no secret that I was a villain and I got caught and they told me that I could come here or I could go to prison for a very long time." He laughed. "No offense to your wonderful town, but I made the wrong choice." The crowd chuckled with him. "So put yourselves in my place, you're hurt bad and you get swept out to sea with the last wave. You give up, right? You know you're going to die, you know there's nothing you can do to save yourself, so you give up."

The former villain stepped away from the podium and turned his back to the crowd to stare at the statue for a few moments. "You start to sink and you feel a pair of arms wrap around you. You're too weak to turn your head but you hear a voice promising you that you're going to be okay. You feel hope until you realize that it's just one cape and the two of you are in the middle of the ocean." He turned back to the crowd. "The cape treads water for two days with you in his arms." He chuckled. "I'd call any man a liar that said it happened like that if I hadn't experienced it myself." He shook his head. "Bout, maybe an hour in. Maybe two, maybe a day. Kinda hard to tell when you're in and out." He shrugged. "Anyway, you decide that it's not too late to turn your life around and you figure that there's no sense in dragging someone else down with you so you beg him to let you go so that he'll have a chance but he ignores you. You don't remember much, you're in and out of consciousness until you wake up in an aid tent a week after you went into the drink and you find out later that the cape built a dinky little raft to hold you while he pushed you back to shore."

Gorilla Green waved at the caption. "You find out that the Coastguard spotted you about fifteen minutes before they were ready to give up the search. The Coastguard helicopter sends down a swimmer and the guy who rescued you starts arguing with the swimmer. Crazy fucker tells the swimmer what's written on the base of the monument; Take him, I'll be fine on my own. He doesn't realize that there's enough room on the helicopter for both of you."

The big man turned back to the statue. "He's not wearing a mask here. He used the bandages on his face to lash the raft together. He doesn't look much like the statue, the features are too blurred to look like anyone. I was so out of it that he could pass me on the street and I wouldn't know him from Adam. Only thing I do remember is how young he was. Too young to drink, too young to drive, too young to join the army, but old enough to risk his life to save others. I hope . . ." Gorilla Green exhaled loudly. "I just hope he found at least as much happiness as I did. I owe every bit of what I have to him."

IIIIIIIIII

The mayor wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye when they pulled the sheet off the statue. A young girl was pulling on the pants leg of a man with a face wrapped in bandages and a wrench in his right hand. At the base of the statue was the caption; I'm not a hero, I'm just here to help.

"That's me," the woman said, eyes fixed on the statue. "We were in the shelter for what felt like forever. Packed in like sardines in a can." She turned towards the crowd. "The environmental controls failed first and it started getting hot and then the ventilation failed and it started getting hotter." She managed a weak smile. "I was scared but I was too young to know how scared I should have been. Too young to know that everyone in the shelter was about to die."

She turned back to the statue. "That's when he came to save us all. I asked him if he was a hero and he told me that he wasn't a hero but he was there to help." She chuckled. "Four future doctors were in that shelter, two lawyers, a member of the House of Representatives, six police officers, twelve firefighters, a whopping twenty EMTs, and the artist that made this statue to name just a few. The Unknown Parahuman didn't just help us that day, he helped everyone that we've helped since we got out of that damned coffin." She took a breath as she turned back towards the crowd. "This statue was made by us and paid for by us. It's one of a dozen monuments going up around town to commemorate the worst disaster we've ever experienced and one of hundreds around the world." She paused for effect. "But this one is special because this one is ours. The other ones can belong to the world but this one belongs to us."

Approximately Forty Years After the Ending:

Greg braced himself when he saw his youngest grandchild running towards him at top speed and grunted in exaggerated pain when she landed in his lap from a flying leap.

"Fix him!" the five year old thrust a teddybear into his hands. "Please, grampy. Grammy says that you can fix anything!"

"Let's take a look." Greg examined the object, one eye was loose and several of the seams needed to be redone. "Doesn't look too hard. I'll have him good as new in a jiff."

"Thank you, grampy."

"Always happy to help." He raised his voice. "Sophia, I'll be upstairs fixing Susan's bear if you need me!"

Approximately Four Hundred Years After the Ending:

K'tha'tan regarded the human captain for several seconds in hopes that by merely looking at the creature that the secret of its motivation could be divined. The situation was dire. They were delivering a load of cargo to a strange race in a backwater system when the ship had suffered a malfunction so serious that the engineer was unable to remedy it, forcing them to rely on local aid to resolve their issue. Local aid that used a completely different method of FTL travel. It was nearly enough to make them all swear off space travel to become g'chuk'a herders on one of the agriculture colonies.

"Might I ask a question without causing offense?" the two meter mantis asked, hoping desperately that the translation software would use the proper dialect to avoid causing some sort of incident.

The human exposed its mandible coverings, a friendly gesture the translator assured. "Go ahead."

"Exactly how much are these repairs going to cost?" Very little, K'tha'tan hoped. The margins on this run were razor thin.

"Depends on if we can solve your problem with your resources," the human captain stated. "I'm afraid I'll have to charge you for the cost of any parts we need to get."

The large mantis was puzzled. "You are not charging for your time?"

"Nah, we all gotta help each other, right? I don't want to sound like I'm making promises, but most humans will be happy to give a helping hand for free. It's a fairly important aspect of our culture."

The translator warned after the fact that his question could have been taken as an insult much to K'tha'tan's annoyance. The mantis made a mental note to look into getting an upgrade after returning to Tu'da'tha. "Would it be permissible to ask a question concerning a human custom that I am unsure of without causing offense?"

The human's head jerked. "Sure. Let me know what you want to know and I promise that I won't take any offense at all."

"What is the significance of the cloth wraps many of your crew are wearing?"

The human's thorax quivered and it made an odd untranslatable sound for several moments. "That goes back a long time and requires a bit of a history lesson. My world was nearly destroyed a few centuries ago by." The translator glitched. "Everyone had given up until one individual appeared. He would respond to disasters and to provide aid in a manner which exposed him to great risk." The translator began glitching again and a notification popped up warning K'tha'tan that the accuracy was dropping and suggesting that a recording of the translation be forwarded to the company in order for them to improve performance in the future. "The wrappings which we wear have great ceremonial significance," the human continued. "Just as the Unknown." Untranslatable. "Chose to be anonymous, so to do many humans when they provide aid to others."

K'tha'tan again lamented the credits he'd saved by purchasing his current translator rather than a more capable model. "How long ago did this legendary figure appear?"

"About four hundred." Unit of measure based upon the orbit of an unknown planet around its star. "Ago."

K'tha'tan made a mental note to send a strongly worded note to the company responsible for the development and construction of the translator. This was getting ridiculous, the stupid thing couldn't even divine something as simple as units of measurement for time. Something that most translators found relatively straightforward since a common unit could be based on the decay of an element. "Was the human you have assigned to perform the repairs on my ship around at the same time of this legendary figure? The one the other humans refer to as the old man?" the mantis asked in hopes of being able to estimate the unknown unit of measurement by comparing it to the computer's estimate of the human's age.

"Greg?" the translator indicated that the odd grunt was likely the personal designation of the indicated human. "No. He can't be more than one or two hundred." Unit of measure based upon the orbit of an unknown planet around its star. "Old. The Unknown" Untranslatable. "Was around long before we learned to repair the effects of aging."

"I see." K'tha'tan considered the best way to ask the next question. "You are sure that." The mantis made no effort to replicate the odd grunt, choosing instead to have the translator fill it in. "Is able to perform the necessary work?" Given the individual's lack of experience went unsaid.

"I've known." Gender designation? the translator suggested. "For twenty." Unit of measure based upon the orbit of an unknown planet around its star. "And in that time I've never come across anything." Gender designation, the translator said confidently. "Was unable to fix."

The End

Omake: Okay, maybe not quite the end

K'tha'tan rose and waved an antenna at the ship's engineer when the other being strode into the room.

"You have called and I have come," I'tha'vos stated using the formal dialect as was proper between two ship's officers.

"You have answered and I have questions," K'tha'tan responded.

"You need only to ask and I shall answer, captain."

"Of that, I know, chief engineer."

"So what do you want?" I'tha'vos demanded, switching to a more informal dialect in recognition of their long years of service together.

"Will we be stuck in this backwater?"

The ship's engineer's mandibles clicked in amusement. "We will not."

"The human designated 'old man' was able to effect repairs then?"

The clicking intensified. "I have learned more about my systems by watching that human than I have learned since I began the path of the engineer."

K'tha'tan's antennas waved in surprise. "The humans are that familiar with our systems?"

"To the point that I must conclude that they are using the primitive drives they do as a ruse to trick the unwary. Our breakdown was not misfortune, it will allow us to warn the creche that attack on the humans is folly."

"I am unaware of any planned attack on the humans."

"I am quite sure the creche would not inform a merchant captain of any such plans ahead of time. Still, our duty is clear."

"You are certain of your findings?"

"The human is more familiar with the repair of my systems than I am. I have spent two hundred home world standard cycles perfecting my skills. What other conclusion am I to make?"

K'tha'tan inclined the right third leg to concede the point. "I shall report your conclusions to the creche."

Omake What I wrote

Her gaze swept over the crowd. "Two people are responsible for our good fortune. Panacea." Taylor smirked. "Who threatened to give me explosive diarrhea if I approved the statue we planned to build of her." She paused for the crowd to chuckle. "And the Unknown Parahuman. Who, from what I've hears, would have told us not to bother since, in his words, he was just doing what anyone would do in his place, if we'd been able to find him to ask." The woman turned to focus her attention on the monument. "This depicts an event his first endbringer battle, his saving of the life of Lightning Lass. Who, I'm sure you all remember was my predecessor as the leader of the Brockton Bay protectorate and of the Protectorate as a whole."

Omake by dogbertcarroll

Her gaze swept over the crowd. "Two people are responsible for our good fortune. Panacea." Taylor smirked. "Who threatened to give me explosive diarrhea if I approved the statue we planned to build for her." She paused for the crowd to chuckle. "And the Unknown Parahuman who said he guessed his outfit was generic enough to pass for just about any first responder." She had to wait for a couple of minutes for the laughter to die down, before she could continue this time. The woman turned to focus her attention on the monument. "This depicts an event his first endbringer battle, his saving of the life of Lightning Lass. Who, I'm sure you all remember was my predecessor at Brockton Bay and of the Protectorate as a whole."

The Absolute End