ASBO-Boy - The Saint

Omen couldn't believe his eyes. The whole of the parade ground was full of people, taking up every space inbetween all the tents and caravans. Men, women and children draped in drab and dirty clothes for the most part. Omen had never seen people this poor before. Many were lying down on the gravel and patches of dirt. There were cries of pain over the din of activity and all the while the Sandfields blossomed with fire and smoke in the distance.

"When did this happen?" He stammered. Swarm shook his head, he eiher didn't know, couldn't speak or both. Omen took a tentative step forward towards the nearest group. An old woman spotted him and grabbed his arm.

"Help me! My son is burned!" She dragged him fiercely over to a man lying comatose in the mud. His age was unreadable as a massive burn ran from his head to his waist, the ruby wound glistening angrily.

Without thinking, Omen began to drag the man towards the caravan. Swarm and Locus stumbled over to help him, too stunned to speak. Between the three of them they managed to get the man into the caravan and onto Omen's bunk. On auto-pilot they swept around the impromptu staging area and gathered the worst of the wounded and carried them into the caravan. Soon the cries and moans of pain filled the narrow and cramped space of the caravan while the families hovered outside.

"We need a healer." Locus muttered, her eyes flitting over the wounded.

"The paramedics are all busy." Swarm muttered in reply.

"No, I mean a Healer. It'll take the Authorities ages to get through them all. We need someone who can…" She didn't finish. They were drawn by the sound of commotion outside. A hush rippled through the parade ground, spreading like wildfire.

Omen cornered a lost looking woman and asked her what was going on. She merely pointed to a crowd gathering in the distance and shrugged. "The Saint."

Omen shared a quizzical look with Swarm and Locus. A blue form wriggled its way through the throng and loped over towards them.

"It's a girl, she's walking around healing people." Spout gasped inbetween breaths. "Some of them were nearly gone, but she stepped over them and just touched them – taking away their pain."

They set off without a word and moved quickly through the crowd to get to the girl. As they got closer they met more and more resistance as people were clammouring for her to help them. The noise became unbearable and the sense of panic threatened to break down into an all out riot, but eventually they pushed through to the front. The atmosphere of the mob changed dramatically the closer they got to the centre; no longer were people shoving for attention, they were just standing and watching. A hush descended as they reached the middle and found a small girl in a jet-black skin-suit.

Omen felt his legs go numb. It was Malady, a girl he only recognised because he'd seen her in a dream.

"What?" Swarm asked, frowning. "You said something… malady?"

Malady turned her head to where Omen and the others were standing.

"Yes?" She said, her voice small and weak. Despite the calm veneer the girl was pale and wan looking, her legs and arms shaking, her skin red and blotchy.

"Your name," Omen began, "I'm right, aren't I?"

Malady nodded. The woman at her feet groaned and rolled over, holding her head. Her family rushed forward and helped her to her feet. Every other word they whispered tearfully was 'thankyou'.

"We need your help." Omen said, sounding glib and heartless among a sea of people with the same request. Malady merely shrugged. "We can help you, we're Others like you."

The crowd who were watching this with unease seemed to back away from the mention of the word.

"Others…"

"When you're done we'll need to hide you. The Authorities will take you away." Of this, Omen felt certain. Part of him wanted to blurt everything out at once, but he felt the eyes of the crowd on him.

"Gather all you can. I can help them better when they're all together." She said, dismissing them with a nod. The crowd parted like water to allow them to work. A buzz gathered pace among the people as an organised spirit drove the effort to gather all they could into the closest possible space.

When the work was done, Omen slipped away and watched for the approach of the Authorities. They'd sent a token effort to deal with the casualties, but the bulk of the effort was centered around the Sandfields wall where fire crews were pouring water into the blaze. But the streets were too quiet, there simply weren't enough of them.

Spout appeared at his side and gestured back towards the circle of penitent observers, silently watching the miracle unfolding before them. "Who is she?"

"Remember my dream of you and the sea?" Omen replied quietly. Spout nodded uncomfortably. The memory was still raw and fresh in their minds. "I had another one and she was in it." Spout nodded again. This was all the explanation he needed.

ASBO-Boy - The page 100 catch up.

The story so far…

Most of the ghetto known as the Sandfields has been destroyed by a fire. In the aftermath the ASBOs disbanded.

The Elementals have reappeared on the scene after having their memories altered by the Numbers. The Numbers are a secret union of Others hidden under the Cefn Coed complex by Dr Euryale, the mastermind of the Authorities who control the city and the programme that created the Others.

Flicker is still in her mysterious coma. Gwen, the mentor of the ASBOs, has returned to Cefn Coed to find her a cure. While there she ran into her old boss, Dr Euryale…

Plagued by mysterious dreams for months, Omen now knows half of the story. Flicker has been visiting him in his sleep and preparing him for PANTHEON.

Meanwhile, Squeeze is determined to make things right by breaking into the Cefn Coed complex to save Gwen. Joining him are Vue and Core, two of the original Elemental line-up.

Trivia:

· In Microsoft Word the story has reached its 100th page and now hauls in at 44,219 words.
· The word "bum" has not been used once.
· Including this one, ASBO-Boy is 54 posts long, which makes it roughly two MS Word pages long (an intention on my part).

Workload permitting, I'm going to put a concerted effort into finishing this very soon. I wanted to see whether I could sustain a piece of fiction for this long and I guess I've succeeded. After a fairly leisurely beginning, some patchwork plotting and a few bizarre tangents the story has reached the point where it'll get a fairly tidy ending. I'm happy.

Thanks for reading so far. Not long to go now...

ASBO-Boy - The Battle of Dyfatty, Part Six

As the door dissolved in front of him, light poured in from outside, blinding Helix momentarily. In the distance he could hear helicopters, throbbing like war drums. He was expecting to see an array of soldiers with weapons raised, awaiting him, but the courtyard between the flats was deserted. All apart from one person.

"Helix, my son," Dr Euryale was standing in the centre of the car park, a halo of sunlight glowing around him, "What have you done?"

Even now, his soft, comforting voice was hard to resist. He was disappointed and Helix couldn't help feeling guilty. Looking down at the sword he'd forged out of dust, Helix felt small and young.

"I had to see for myself." Helix replied softly. "I had to know."

"And are you happy now that you know the truth?" Euryale demanded, "Are you happy that your actions have derailed the programme, undermined my authority – my vision?"

Helix levelled his eyes with Euryale's and returned the cold stare. "You created this mess. Not me."

Euryale sighed, "And it is my responisibility to bear the brunt of maintaining it. No matter the cost."

Helix had to smile, "You're threatening me."

"I made you. I can unmake you also."

"We're all expendable, I suppose. Even me?" Helix muttered, tracing a line on the ground with the sword. Euryale didn't answer. He didn't have to.

They both moved at once, Helix lunging forward with his sword and Euryale diving for his pocket. Before Helix could cross half the distance, a wave of nausea passed over him. Helix stumbled, dropping the sword to the ground with a ringing clatter.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Euryale smiled sickly. He was holding a small cylinder in his hand, his thumb pressed firmly over the top. "Betrayal was one of the first things I factored when I created you. Control, despite your genetic make-up was never something I intended to relinquish."

Helix's vision was beginning to blurr. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably. With horror, what Euryale had done to him dawned on Helix with clarity. Somehow, he'd managed to de-stabilise his control, take away his ability to regulate his power.

Radiation, he thought. Euryale had used it to create him, now he must have used some form of radiaition to unlock a clause in his make-up. Helix pushed himself into a sitting position. Beneath him the ground shook, almost imperceptibly at first, then stronger, growing in strength.

"What have you done?" Euryale gasped.

Helix couldn't help but laugh. His body was falling apart, his control slipping like a fever. It was Core, destroying the foundations of the complex beneath their feet.

"I'd run if I were you." Helix whsipered, his voice grating like a rasp over stone.

Euryale didn't waste much time, just a brief hesitation. Helix sat on the cold stone and grasped for the sword. Maybe there was an honourable way out. Before he fell apart, before he lost himself to the poison sweeping through his cells.

Then it occurred to him. There was a better way. He could deliver the final blow. Consume half the city in a ball of fire they'd see from space. With all the strength he had left in him he concentrated on seperating his molecules faster. But with each passing second he felt more and more of his control slipping beyond him.

Distantly, over the sound of the explosions in his ears he could sense someone approaching. A blur became form and mass as Vue stumbled over to him.

"Helix!" he gasped, his voice ringing like a peal of bells.

"Run, Vue. I can't hold it much longer." He heard himself saying.

Vue nodded, looking around. In a flash, he was gone.

Finally, Helix thought, he could finish it.

The following day:

"Yesterday, the city mourned as terrorist suicide bombers destroyed the Dyfatty flats. The Elementals, brought in on a routine mission to silence the dissenting party, wasted no time in establishing their authority. However, things slipped out of hand and a small nuclear device was detonated, levelling half of the old city."

The following month:

"Dr Euryale has announced that there will be a new line-up of Elementals to replace those sadly lost last month."

The following year:

"One year after the now infamous Battle of Dyfatty, the city remembers its brave protectors and the never-ending fight against the dissenting voice. In this time of increased civil unrest, the importance of remembering those who have died trying to keep the peace is more important than ever. The ASBO programme and the fight to combat Otherness continues."

ASBO-Boy - The Battle of Dyfatty, Part Five

No sooner had Helix and Vue clasped hands the walls began to tremble. "Was that you?" Vue whispered. Helix shook his head and flicked the switch on the communicator built into his skin-suit. It was still spitting static.

"I can't jump through," Vue stammered, looking around with fear in his eyes, his infinite freedom curtailed by confusion and claustrophobia. "There's too much stone."

Helix nodded. If the others had got word to Euryale, then he would be here by now and in force. With trepidation Helix led Vue and the terrorist stragglers back towards the surface. They had heard everything in the bowels of the facility, how Euryale had manufactured the Elementals and the city. What had happened since the inception of the project? What part had the Walls to play in the Pantheon heresy? Helix felt his muscles bunching under his skin. Conspiracy theories bounced around his head and he fought to keep them in check.

"When did the Walls go up?" he demanded of the terrorists. They were older, they would have seen them being built.

"Two-thousand and one, two?" They guessed. Details would be sketchy. Records would have been doctored, the authorities controlled perception of time and date. "Not long after the millenium."

"Why were they built?" Helix demanded.

"To combat social problems – ASBOs, youth out of control. There were riots. The city turned into a warzone before the Walls." The leader muttered, his words rang in a new light thanks to the proposal video. It was clear to Helix that the gross manipulation of the public went far beyond the Pantheon serum – what else had they put into the water? Hormones? Chemicals? Had they been systematically paving their way towards this outcome? Complete control of information and necessities. The scale of the thing was staggering and Helix still couldn't quite reconcile the truth, his conjecture and the growing sense of betrayal festering within him. He wanted answers and he wanted retribution.

"What do you want to do? We can't confront Dr Euryale about this, he'd have us silenced." Vue muttered.

"Can't we?" Helix spat, "I will have answers. Even if it means tearing them from his throat." Vue visibly recolied from Helix. They'd never quite been friends and it had always puzzled Helix. When he'd been younger he'd had lots of friends. They'd played football together – even then he was the leader of the pack. But then Dr Euryale took him away and unlocked his abilities. Since then people had never quite seen eye to eye with him. He scared people.

They didn't have time argue. Footfalls were approaching, heavy splintered footfalls pounding down the long corridor that connected led to the surface. It was Core.

"What have you done?" She demanded, diving into Vue's arms. Helix was relieved to hear wonder, as opposed to accusation in her voice. "Dr Euryale has closed down the sector – the army's been brought in. the whole area is surrounded by helicopters and gunships."

"We found something. " Vue muttered, "Incriminating evidence."

"You found your answers then?" Core asked. "I hope it was worth it."

"It was." Helix replied.

"They've taken Physic and Seraph into custody." Core continued, "I managed to get away. They wont ask questions. Euryale stepped off his helicopter with others…"

"Others? Like us you mean?" Helix asked.

"Yes – how did you know?"

"Euryale's turned the city into a breeding ground." Helix muttered, his voice drawn with weariness. "We didn't evolve."

Core nodded, taking the heresy in her stride. The word fitted to Helix. It resonated with the immenisty of the betrayal; it was, after all a betrayal of their beliefs, and for want of a better word, their religion.

"We have to spread the word." Vue said, "We have to win."

Core nodded, squeezing him tighter to her. "I will destroy this place." She said. "And I'll meet you up at the surface when it's done." Vue went to object but she stopped him with a quick kiss. Helix looked away. They never showed their affection blatantly in public. But this was different, he thought.

Releasing Vue, Core turned her attention to Helix who she hugged tightly. With their last moment of intimacy shared Core departed without another word. Vue stood watching her walk away.

"Come on," Helix said, continuing up the corridor, then the stairs until they were standing in the ante-room of the basement. The dust of the atomic particles left by the doors twinkled on the ground. "Heresy," he muttered under his breath. He had the need of a symbol, something tangible he could take away from the catacombs, something he hadn't had before. With a gesture he unleashed his power, drawing the atoms of metal from the floor to form in the air. Energy pulsated around the room as a shape began to appear in the maelstrom. Long, thin and sharp, a simple sword emerged. Helix held it for a moment and waved his hand along the length of the blade, sharpening the edge down to the width of a molecule.

Sharper than anything in existence, Helix mused that he'd created a weapon that could cut through lies.

ASBO-Boy, The Battle of Dyfatty, Part Four

The door dissolved into nothing and Helix stepped through. He felt resolution coming, like an unstoppable wave; it was coming towards him out of the darkness like destiny.

The air was stale, thick with neglect and dust. With an offhand gesture he flicked the lightswitch on. Power thrummed in the deep of the flats. Behind him Helix could feel Vue, he could almost taste his anxiety in the air, but Helix felt calm. For the first time in a long time he felt like was going to get answers. Silent answers. Physical truth that spoke for itself.

The walls and floor were bear, bleached concrete with imposing steel doors set into the fortress-like structure. These ones had large naval door locks, but they were nothing to Helix. Wall after wall melted away before him. The communicator in his skinsuit spat static in the reinforced bunker. Stairs and long corridors led them deeper and deeper into the heart of the structure. At a guess, it went on for miles in every direction.

They were at the city's sub-level and many of the corridors intersected pipelines that threaded their way to the whole city. Gas, water, electricity and sewage. Everything monitored at different stages. Areas were set aside with computers and equipment that were already ancient. This place had been here for a long time. Since before Helix was born – before the turn of the millenium.

"Vue," Helix said softly, his voice shattering the silence. "What do you think?"

"I see pipes and walkways. Nothing incriminating. Nothing." Vue replied, his voice bright and brittle.

"I asked for what you think."

Vue didn't answer for a time. "I think we should go back."

Helix smiled sadly and walked on. Eventually the maze led them to a control room. A multi-tiered room full of computers all facing a wall of screens and a floor to ceiling map of Swansea. On it, one could see all the pipelines that fed Swansea and all the relative post codes. The map was pre-division, so none of the walls showed up.

"It's a distribution centre." Helix surmised, looking at all the left over print outs. Flow readings, charts of productivity and control.

"For what?" Vue demanded. Helix watched him trying to forcibly deny the evidence before him, but to Helix it all seemed clear for once.

"Lies?" Helix pondered aloud. His words were heresy. Not that officials would use that word, it was too loaded with spiritual overtones.

"So they've been controlling the water supplies." Vue shrugged. "Clean water's got to come from somewhere."

Helix touched the power buttons on the central computer. It was laid out in the centre of the room and isolated from the others. It must have bellonged to the most imprtant member of the team.

The old fashioned layout of the interface was a doddle for Helix to overturn. The system was his within minutes of ingress. He recognised the code and the operating system as early authoritarian – before it broke away from the then monopolising system that the whole world had used. Euryale had once talked of its invention. He needed his own OS to protect his work. Here it was.

Helix processed through the words and files until he found one in particular: proposal. An old movie file – before they were banned. A recorded image. The idea was exciting and wrong.

His finger clicked the icon without hesitation.

"The systematic introduction of the Pantheon Project," Dr Euryale's voice boomed through the fuzzy speakers in the room. It was cold, as ever, younger and transformed by the eery echo. "A proposal to the government for funding. The project has several key steps, the first is the introduction of the Pantheon serum into the general water supply, city-wide. As the research states, the serum works residually, building up in individuals over a long period of exposure. The second part of the project involves use of radiation to activate and encourage Pantheon at the celluar level. Its design is based on Cancer – cells overtaken by Pantheon rapidly begin to change and reproduce but at a much slower rate. Early stages have shown that foetuses show great compatibility with the serum, but radiation in large doses can be damaging to mother and baby. City wide application of radiation would massage the Pantheon cells to maturity, fundamentally transforming the genetic make-up of the individual.

"For millenia, human-kind has developed and evolved to become the dominant species. Our brains and our capacity for understanding have made this possible. Now, thanks to the brain, evolution is within our grasp to control and nurture. The next level in human development is the heart and soul of this project."

Helix watched as the timer on the video ran to the end and stood back from the console. He'd been right. Anger and hurt didn't seem to enter into the equation. He was stunned. The truth that his feelings were correct, that his anxiety hadn't been without basis was possibly more shocking than the video itself.

Doctor Euryale had lied and the authorities supported it.

Where did that leave the Elementals? Were they just pawns, or was there a grand design hidden here that he wasn't seeing? Helix began to feel his control slip and the room shook, plaster fell from the ceiling. A hand gripped his arm and he spun in an instant, as if to strike. It was Vue. His face was fixed in an expression caught between fear and thunder. In that moment Helix knew that something had changed between them. A simple understanding had been forged in the belly of the lie that promised fire and damnation to come.

ASBO-Boy - The Battle of Dyfatty, Part Three

"Understand this, you aren't getting what you want and you aren't going to kill these people," Helix said, commanding the room despite the fact that he was a foot shorter than the terrorists. With a wave of his hand their weapons faded away to atomic dust. The terrorists flinched away from him. "These situations follow a pattern. Hostages are taken, demands are made and invariably we step in and those responsible are never heard of again. You will walk out of this in one of two ways. Either dead or on your way to prison."

Vue felt his chest swell. Comfortable in the knowledge that the sitaution was in hand, he stood up. "Having said that," Helix continued, looking uncomfortable, "I am prepared to listen to you."

Vue shot a look at Helix. It was ignored. In a breath, Vue was gone and standing outside, near the concrete barrier. The others skipped over to join him, their faces concerned.

"What's he doing?" Physic demanded.

"He's listening to them."

"What?" Core asked, rubbing his arm.

"He's listening to what they have to say." Vue said, "He gave them the spiel he normally gives them, the scary one about no compromises, then he said he'd listen."

"I suppose he had to start making his own decisions some day." Core muttered.

"What do you mean?" Vue asked, his voice sharp. Her hand dropped from his arm.

"Well, Dr Euryale is always filling our heads with his way of seeing the world. They're so close. You can't be that close to someone and not question their beliefs." Core replied, looking at her feet. Vue started reading a million things into her words at once. Could she possibly be talking about them?

"Dr Euryale is right, though. There is nothing to question." Physic stated. "There is nothing else."

Core shrugged, clearly with more to say but biting her tongue. Vue couldn't deal with her and this at once so he decided to flash back to the flat and listen to the terrorists.

"I don't believe you." Helix was stating, his arms folded across his chest. The hostages had fled and the terrorists were standing in a half circle near him. They barely flinched when Vue appeared.

"Okay," the cynical terrorist said, pointing at Vue, "Take him for example. How do you explain how he can instantaneously jump from one place to another?"

"Evolution." Helix replied without thinking.

"Really? Do you know how evolution works? It's a slow process-"

"With big leaps here and there." Helix said emphatically. He knew this argument backwards. The Elementals were that big leap. A generation of children born with miraculous abilities. The next stage in the evolution of humanity. There would be others.

"I'd call being able to dissolve atoms a pretty unbelievable leap – wouldn't you?" The terrorist countered. "All we're saying is, open the locked door in the basement and tell us what you think of what's inside."

"What's inside – how do you know?" Helix demanded.

"We don't. There could be nothing. We suspect there's something pretty big down there." The terrorist replied quietly.

"This is ridiculous," Vue muttered, "Let's just take them in."

"Show me." Helix said, walking out of the door towards the stairs.

Vue didn't know what to think, he was torn between grabbing Helix and shaking him or going along with him. Both options were daunting. Helix, despite being their friend, was something else. He wasn't just an Elemental. The very definition of what it meant to be human had been rewritten with the genesis of Helix. His ability to unwrap the atom and put it back together was mind-boggling. The best Vue could do was jump around. Euryale kept him close, closer than the others; so to see him considering what the terrorists were saying was unsettling.

Vue dashed out of the door and rounded on Helix before he could walk down the steps. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because…" Helix considered, his face drawn with tension, "Because every fibre of my being is telling me not to."

Helix nudged past him and carried on down the stairs towards the basement. The terrorists followed behind, keeping their distance. When they were below ground, they found themselves in a long, bear store room. At the end was a door that looked as if it was trying to blend in. Why would there be a reinforced steel door in the basement of a block of flats? Vue had to admit that the room smelled stale and strange, it was clear that no one came down here.

Helix was shaking as he approached the door and put his hand against it. "There's no handle…" he muttered. Vue almost smiled – maybe they'd have to go back… but of course, this was Helix. Doors meant nothing to him.

"It's almost as if I was meant to open it," Helix said, his voice distant. The metal beneath his hand began to shimmer and fade away, tinkling into the ether with the tinkling of bells.

ASBO-Boy - The Battle of Dyfatty, Part Two

"We have Vue! If he moves we'll kill one of the hostages." The spokesman for the terrorists shouted from the first floor window.

Helix and the others were standing behind the concrete barrier, a hundred metres away. "Great." Physic chirped, "Well, I suppose they were going to catch on eventually."

Helix ignored him and picked up the megaphone. "Declare your terms."

"Terms?" The terrorist shouted back after a brief pause.

"It sounds like they haven't got that far yet," Core said, her voice tense. She was standing nearest the barrier, her arms crossed.

"We want…" There was another pause.

"They're conferring." Helix muttered, "They actually haven't considered what they want.. Which makes them either the worst terrorists ever, or…"

"The least greedy?" Physic shrugged.

"We want a journalist… and an official from the council… and a crow bar."

Helix bit back an instant reply and looked to the others. Their faces mirrorred his own puzzled expression. They didn't want money. This was strange. Normally when they suppressed terrorists they demanded money first, this allowed the Elementals time to move in. Greed, after all, made people short-sighted. While they were imagining riches the Elementals could do their work. They'd always claim to have noble intentions, such as an 'end to the current corruption' and other such nonsensical demands. Never before had a terrorist cell demanded witnesses.

"Get me a line to the Tower." Helix demanded, holding his hand out for a phone. The police officer standing nearby handed him one then stood back. Helix was radiating again – the dust at his feet was floating a couple of inches off the ground.

"Euryale. Go ahead." The connection spat.

"Sir, they want a journalist and an official. They don't want money."

Euryale paused, this in itself was strange, his answers were normally instantaneous. "Interesting."

"What should I say?"

"Don't say anything. We don't bargain with terrorists. Take them down."

Helix pondered arguing for a second. He had to admit he was curious, but arguing with Euryale was pointless, the man was intimidating despite their intimacy as mentor and mentee. "You wish to comment, Helix?"

"No sir," Helix shook his head. "We'll speak again when it's done."

"Good boy."

Helix hung up and looked up at the tower block. Why on earth did he seek the approval of this man? Was it because he was the closest thing that he had to a family, or was there something else, a darker, more persistent reason there somewhere? Did he actually seek this man's approval because he, in turn, approved of his mentor? Helix wriggled uncomfortably. Euryale was right. The terrorists had to be crushed, there was no question of complying with their terms. But Helix questioned his mentor's capability of compassion.

"What do we do?" Seraph asked meekly. Helix turned to see the others awaiting his orders.

**

"Maybe they're calling someone higher up…" The leader was muttering, peeking from the curtains at the window of the flat. There were four terrorists altogether and six hostages. Hardly a great coup, but significant enough to call in the Elementals. Vue ran calculations through his head. How long it would take him to blast around the room and gather their weapons before the first shot was fired… He might not be quick enough.

"They're biding their time, making us sweat. They don't care about us, the hostages or their friend here." The cynical terrorist chided, pacing the dilapidated flat. "They've probably got more of him growing in tubes somewhere anyway."

Vue looked up. Where on earth had they got this crap from? Their brains were full of half-cocked conspiracy theories and nonsense. He could see the fear in their eyes. Drugs, alcohol, gambling debts, what number of society's vices had brought them to this?

"Hear that boy?" the cynical one continued his rant, "Give me a crow bar and I'll show you what your precious Authority jas been up to. Ask these people about the disappearances. The illnesses. The undrinkable water." He waved his pistol at them. Vue watched them flinch at the sight of it, but they didn't cry out. Come to think of it, none of them were crying either. Usually, at least one person was crying.

"Hear hear!" One of the shouted. The cynical one rounded on him and shot him a hard look. Were the hostages dummies? Vue thought quickly, suddenly trying to second guess the possibilities. "What's he doing?" The leader muttered. "He's walking over here." There was a long pause while the terrorists exchanged worried glances.

"I'm coming up. I want to talk." It was Helix, and he was at the bottom of the stairs.

ASBO-Boy: The Battle of Dyfatty - Part One

"Helix! Helix! Are the rumours true?"

The crowd of paparazzi brayed and swarmed around the Elementals as they approached the blockade. Vue observed the police presence, their strength and the proximity of the old blocks of flats. They'd need to be moved, he thought, considering the crowd of onlookers.

"Of course not," Helix chuckled amiably, "We're here to raise awareness and oversee a police exercise."

Vue tried not to laugh. Helix's ability to lie with a charming smile never ceased to amaze him.

"So, you don't think this police blockade is a little excessive?"

"Why wouldn't they be here if it wasn't for a terrorist attack?"

"I assure you," Helix said, turning to the crowd with open hands, "this is purely routine. All of your questions will be answered when we return." Helix led his Elementals under the Police tape and through the gate that led into the park at the foot of the flats. Behind them the press shouted after them, but they walked on as if nothing was happening.

When they were out of sight Vue gravitated towards Core and his hand slipped into hers. For five minutes they'd have a little privacy.

"Holding hands in the park," Physic jibed. "People will talk."

"Not if they don't see." Core replied, gesturing to the trees around them. Physic was lanky and wore glasses. He was the very vision of a nerd. His talent was technically classed as the manipulation of complex chemicals. His party trick was encouraging the immune system into overdrive. He constantly bragged that he could cure anything.

Vue looked up at the farthest tower block and thought on the mission. Of course the rumours were true. They always were. Of course terrorists had taken the flats and were threatening extortion and death. Terrorism was a monthly occurrence.

"Seraph – what do you see?" Helix called upwards. In moments they heard the reassuring flapping noise of Seraph swooping into view. He was short for his age, blonde and had enormous white angel wings sticking out of his back.

"Not much." He replied, landing softly on the path. "The curtains are drawn on the first floor. The police have set up a perimeter."

Vue looked over and saw the plain clothes officers setting up behind the concrete barriers. "Have they made any demands?" Helix asked.

"Nope," Seraph replied, his wings tucked in. Vue had to laugh sometimes, the wings were twice the size of Seraph and they forced him into a kind of waddle because of his height.

"I suppose our public relations officer will have to butter them up then," Physic muttered. Helix gave him a dig in the shoulder and laughed.

Physic spent too much time wondering why he wasn't the leader, but to Vue it was obvious. You pick the most good-natured, confident and good-looking one to lead the team. It worked in comics, it worked in real life. Vue's collection was one of the largest still in existence and it was only because he was an Elemental that the Authorities had let him keep it. Apparently they were subversive, dangerous and too close mirror to real life.

The moment of relative peace ended when they reached the concrete barriers. The police were working out of the back of a white van.

"Helix," the officer in charge approached, "We're glad you guys are here. They've holed themselves up pretty well."

"Hostages?" Helix asked.

"You bet. Four familes – all from the block. They're armed with stolen machine-guns. They haven't fired them yet, but we haven't gone any closer than this." The officer led them over to the van where they'd pulled out the schematic drawings for the building.

"Vue, study the drawings and pick a good entry point." Helix directed. Vue scanned the image and spotted the stairwell. He made the calculations quickly and awaited further orders.

"Th Government is lying!" came a scream across the park, amplified by a hand-held microphone. "This is not just a block of flats! It's built on a secret government facility designed to monitor us! They're spying on us!" The voice sounded weak and scared, Vue noted. They dealt with scaremongers on a daily basis. Of course society wasn't perfect, people aren't stupid – they know when their being spied on, but when it's being done in the people's best interest, only the guilty have to worry.

"They've being spouting this rubbish all morning." The officer explained.

"Are you ready?" Helix asked.

Vue nodded, shared a brief smile with Core and closed his eyes. His ears popped and the sounds around him changed. When he opened his eyes he was standing in the stairwell, two floors above the terrorists. Moving quickly he descended and approached the door. He heard voices beyond, muffled, lowered.

A gun clicked behind him.

"Move and we kill one of the hostages."

ASBO-Boy - Disassembled: Part 2

Squeeze found Bark down by a small stream that ran its way through the trees near the walls of the University, though he very nearly missed him. When Bark moved the extent of his transformation became clear. Leaves fell from his back as he shifted to watch as Sqeeze approached, it sounded like a breeze but the air was calm, devoid of movement, stagnant and waiting.

"Say what you need to say," Bark muttered.

Squeeze coughed. "I've just read something disturbing…" He paused, waiting vainly for a sign of interest. When he didn't get one, he carried on, "Gwen left me, us, a note. It says that she expected things to go wrong – well, she didn't so much expect as she was prepared for every eventuality, which included planning for my screwing things up. Anyway, it says she's gone to Cefn Coed to hack into their computers to try and find a way of helping Flicker."

Bark nodded.

"Yeah. Well, it was one of those 'If you haven't heard from me by such and such a time then I'm probably…'," Squeeze cleared his throat again, "Well, you know."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to break into Cefn Coed and rescue her."

Bark said nothing, so Squeeze felt compelled to say something.

"You know me… why start one fire when you can start…" He didn't finish the sentence, the look from Bark quelled it in his throat.

"I'm not going with you."

Squeeze nodded. "I thought you might say that."

"Arc-Light wont go either."

"I know."

An edgy silence fell between them like a blackout curtain. Squeeze wondered back on the months inside the Sandfields facility, how Bark had looked after him and followed him when his mind had bent to the power of the authorities. As if reading his thoughts Bark spoke up, "The trees burned, Mike. They all burned along with the houses and the people. My people. Make it right. Get Gwen, help Flicker, do whatever – just make it right."

Squeeze recoiled slightly at the words, but they were what he needed. With a nod he left the small glade and trudged his way back up the hill to where Vue was waiting.

"Told you so," Vue said.

"I had to ask."

Vue nodded and looked at the towering cloud of smoke pluming out of the belly of the Sandfields. Squeeze was wringing his hands and staring up at Core. "Do you think she's up to the task?"

"Of course," Vue smiled, "My girl's ready for anything."

"You guys were together before Dyfatty?" Squeeze asked, trying to steer things away from the cloud that loomed behind him, his pillar of guilt.

"Oh yes. Life can get pretty cramped and hot in that tower. People become close."

"Do you love her?"

"Stupid question," Vue chuckled, "Of course I do. I wouldn't have spent every waking hour trying to figure out a way of getting her back if I didn't. You and him breaking out of that helicopter was the best thing that ever happened to me, up until getting her back, that is."

"Maybe there'll be a way of bringing her back properly at Cefn Coed."

"There might be a lot of things there," Vue replied coldly, then immediately cheered up. "Is there anybody you care about, let's say, more than the usual?"

"Love, you mean?"

Vue replied with a look and Squeeze coughed, "I'm too young for love."

Vue started to laugh, "That'll be a yes then." With a flash he was standing on Core's back looking down at Squeeze and laughing. Squeeze felt his colar become unbearably hot as he climbed up Core's lower back, all the way to her shoulders. When he was standing next to Vue, Squeeze found he couldn't quite make his eye. Vue smiled, "I remember when my power first emerged, I launched myself across the street and ended up in a tree. It was scary. When I met Core, it felt almost the same – like something had been turned on that I'd never known was there. Some impossible things can be like breathing or walking, they're so natural that you don't know they're happening. Teleporting. Stretching your body like an elastic band. Meeting someone and just knowing they're something more."

From this vantage they could see a lot of the city beneath them. Squeeze didn't say anything, he just stared off into the middle-distance and tried not to think about what came next. "You know what," Vue said, his mind changing gear, "It's probably about time I told you about Dyfatty."

ASBO-Boy - The Dreams

"They all dream of the sea." She said, holding his hand. Omen looked down from the wall and surveyed the bay as it swept out before them. Dotted across the surface of the ever-lapping waves lay the star shaped forms of Others, lying face upwards. Their eyes were closed.

"Are they dead?" Omen asked with a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, but when she looked at him she shook her head, bewildered.

"They are dreaming." She replied, simply. Without a second glance she stepped off the wall and guided him down to the water, floating effortlessly in the air. Beneath them a boy not much older than Omen bobbed on the water. "There are things you must see." Softly, she leaned down and touched the boy on the forehead.

The world turned to white and shifted around them until they were standing in a park. Brynmill Park. There was no one around apart from a couple sitting under a tree a short distance away. It was the boy, lying on a blanket while a girl sat next to him. "There are people you will need to help before the end. You must know them, in order to do this."

A strange feeling crept through Omen's skin, it was warm and happy. It reminded him of Spout. "Do I know her?" He asked, feeling hot and uncomfortable. Her face was warm and soft, but something about it scared him.

"She is the Elemental known as Siren." The girl said. "He is called Squeeze." She looked at Omen squarely and continued, "You will need to find him. He is one of the catalysts." Omen nodded as if he understood what she was talking about. With a gesture the world faded away again and they were standing on the water looking down at the floating Others. With purpose she led him over to another sleeping form, a girl this time, smaller and probably younger than he was. In an instant they were standing on a hillside overlooking Swansea. The sun was beating down on them and the air was warm. Long grass came up to their waists as they watched the girl leading a Pony down the hillside towards a crooked tree. "Where are we?"

"We are with Malady."

"That's not what I mean – what is this place? I feel the same as I did in the last place." Omen replied, feeling uneasy but finding himself unable to stop smiling.

"This is the Idyll." She explained. "Or, at least that's what I call it. Everyone has a place like this locked away in their heads. It's the place where the most perfect fantasies are allowed to exist, pure and unhindered by reality or possibility. Here, anything can happen."

Omen couldn't help smiling, the feeling the place exuded was infectious. He felt like a tresspasser.

"What if you see something you don't want to?" He asked her, averting his eyes.

She looked away from a moment, "That's always a possibility. But here, invariably there is goodness, however small. I believe that this place must exist even in the most evil people." It sounded uncomfortably as if she was trying to convince herself.

Omen looked away to the girl and the pony. They'd reached the tree. Sitting under the branches against a low stone wall was Siren again. Omen looked at his companion, but she was lost to him. He was forced to watch as Siren accepted the reigns of the pony and stroked his muzzle. Behind him he felt the wind change and shadows passed over the tall grass. He turned and saw figures walking down the hillside, bowed and swaying, the ill and the damned. Malady turned to them and smiled with welcoming arms.

The world shimmered around them and Omen felt his feet touch the cold water of the sea. The girl pulled his hand and he found himself being dragged towards the Marina. Above them the moon's light cast everything in a silvery glow. Space and time blurred into one, distance meant nothing here. They were soon approaching the quayside – in the distance he saw the men dragging Spout's flailing body from the water. His feet treaded carefully between the drowned simulacra in the water. The girl smiled at him benignly as her dopplegangers stared off into the abyss.

"This is me." She said pointing at the girl in the shadows. A woman had her arms wrapped around the girl's neck, they were hiding from the beasts on the far side. "They lied to us." She finished.

"Omen! Wake up!" Came a voice from beyond, breaking into his mind like a knife.

The girl's head shifted. She looked faraway, then concerned. "Something has changed in the waking world. It has begun. Find Squeeze, find Malady. You will know what to do." Omen looked down at the girl.

"This is you…" he mused, "This is actually you. this is your dream. Am I right?"

"In a way. I walk in dreams."

"What's your name?" He demanded quickly.

"Flicker."

"Will I see you again?" He demanded urgently.

"Not unless I am changed. I live only in dreams now, my waking self is lost to me. You may find my body. Say hello for me." She nodded sadly, fading into darkness.

When Omen opened his eyes he saw Spout and Swarm leaning in over him. "Wake up buddy. You need to see this." He felt himself dragged out of bed and into the light. There was smoke, the sound of crying and thousands of people filling the site. In the distance, he saw the Sandfields burning.

ASBO-Boy - Disassembled: Part 1

When Squeeze opened his eyes all he could hear was the ringing in his head. He was lying on a bed of grass looking up at the evening sky. Around him was a cricle of trees that just obscured the dimming sun. He was trapped in a strange moment where he knew that titanic events lay just beyond the edge of rememberance and, when he ultimately remembered everything, he'd probably wish he was still happily ignorant.

Then the tress moved, and blissfully ignorant or not he knew that wasn't supposed to happen.

"You're right," came a voice, "He is awake." A head came into view, it was smiling down at him in a way he could only describe as sympathetic. Squeeze sat up and shook his head. Then it began to come back. The pile-up, the screaming and the fire. It was all his fault.

Covering his eyes with his hands he wilted back onto the grass and moaned. "It's all my fault."

"Well," the voice returned nonchalantly, "Depends on which bits really." Squeeze recognised the voice now, it was Vue. The grass must be Singleton Park, he mused, hoping briefly that he was dead and Vue was a manifestation of St Peter.

Something growled, or moved, or shifted. Whatever it was, it was loud and didn't sound natural. In shock Squeeze opened his eyes and saw the reason for the moving trees. Core was sitting on a hill, staring down at him like a colossus of rock and moss. "Don't worry about Core. She's not going to hurt you. But I think Arc-Light will."

Squeeze began shaking his head. No, no, no, no, no! This isn't how it was meant to go, he wailed inwardly. Millions of pithy proverbs came treacherously out of the dark to shoot down all the bluster he'd wrapped himself in over the past few weeks. Playing with fire; curious cats; cans of worms. They all teased him mercilessly with his mother's grating whine. He sat up just in time to see Arc-Light appear in front of him.

As he stood up he saw her face twisted with rage, then she smacked him on the side of the head and he fell reeling to the ground.

"You selfish coward!" She screamed, clearly fighting the urge to kick him in the stomach or else fill him with electricity. Vaguely he put his hands up to protest, but with reason, she didn't give him the chance.

"People died because of you. People have lost their homes. And all of our precious work has come to nothing thanks to you." Her anger seemed to consume her and she backed away from him, reviled by what she saw. "Stay away from me." She muttered, her voice sounding spent, her venom turning to grief. He watched numbly as she stalked back down the hill. He stood up to go after her.

"I really wouldn't do that." Vue said frankly.

"Oh yeah?" Squeeze shouted petulantly, "And what would you do?"

"Firstly, I'd drop the childish self-defence. Secondly, I'd have a little humility and shut up. Thirdly, I'd accept the responisbility of my own actions and figure out a way of doing something about it." Vue replied, "And, just in case you're wondering, a couple of years ago I was in exactly your position and didn't do any of what I've just said, so feel free to ignore it." He turned around and walked away towards Core leaving Squeeze feeling broken and alone. No one understood. No one got it. No one realised that he'd had good intentions at heart.

Listen to yourself, he told himself, you sound pathetic.

"Wait!" Squeeze shouted after Vue. There was something in his voice that sounded different. It wasn't scared, it wasn't angry, it wasn't ashamed.

"Yes?"

"What would you do, if you were me?"

Vue looked at the ground. Behind him, Core played with the splintered remains of a tree. "Well… to be honest, you have three choices. Run away, stay exactly where you are, or run forwards. If I were you, knowing what I know then I would keep on running at them. You've made your first move and it was a colossal mistake. You may as well make your second move while they're on the back foot."

"But what about the others…" Squeeze said weakly.

"Don't worry about them. They'll be okay. You on the other hand have to face some issues. Do you, or do you not have the conviction to follow this path through to the end?"

Squeeze looked down at his hands. It was in this park that he'd been caught for spray painting the Uplands with his counter propaganda. He'd thought he was so clever, so sophisticated, so pro-active. He hadn't been doing anything really, he hadn't made an impact. He'd just annoyed the authorities and then he got caught. Simple.

Did he have the conviction? The word buzzed inside him like a vibrating knife, winding its way through his guts, judging him, dissecting him, tearing him apart. All he wanted to do was run away, hide in the shadows, go home even. He thought about his parents, how they'd forgive him, how he'd go to sleep and it would all go away. Then, he thought, he would dream… of the sea. His body chilled and he opened his eyes.

"Yes." He replied, simply.

"Good," Vue replied and chucked a letter over to him, "You may want to look at this then, Gwen left it with me." Squeeze tore open the letter and read over the opening line.

Hello Squeeze, if you're reading this, then you've probably done something stupid…

ASBO-Boy - The Numbers: Part 1

Thursday December 1st 2016

Gwen listened to her footsteps bounce back at her like claps of thunder in the widening cavern. She was deep beneath the Cefn Coed complex and, with any luck, it would be her last. Around her the space swole like the insides of an enormous stone stomach; vast machines filled the floorspace, dominating the room. Her path took her across to a workstation; around her Dr Euryale's personal assistants bustled about their own business.

She logged into the computer and began her work. She'd have to move quickly if she was to succeed and her fingers matched her heartbeat in pace as they danced across the keyboard. Before her, waves of information shot up – some regarding the breeding programme; others concerning the Cascade process; names flashed past – Helix, Mime, even Seraph's – but she couldn't stop, even for him. Eventually the computer arrived at one name: Flicker. She started the download and waited impatiently for the bar to sweep across the screen and complete the process.

When she was done she stood up and adjusted her dress. The room was relatively quiet, the withdrawn assistants were singularly focused on their own work and didn't notice as she exited as quickly as possible. Out of the frying pan, she thought as she contemplated the ascent back to the surface. If someone noticed her access now… the thought was barely worth completing. There was a contingency plan though, even she, at this point, was expendable.

She checked her watch. Her ASBOs would be starting off soon. Squeeze would carry out her orders, partially as she'd instructed and partially as she'd suspected he would. She hated taking advantage of him, but it was necessary, she reassured herself. The others would follow his lead. They'd be okay.

"Doctor."

Her heart ran cold. Gwen turned and saw Euryale standing behind her. He was examining some charts and hadn't looked up.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here today."

"Overtime, Sir," she replied.

"That's what I like to hear." He looked up, smiling – it was an ugly expression and one he didn't look entirely comfortable with. "In that case, there's something I'd like your opinion on."

"I really must be going –"

"I insist." There was something in his tone that denied any attempt at an excuse. She was stuck. Downcast, she followed him up a flight of steel stairs to another part of the complex. He was guiding her towards The Numbers. They past several doors on either side of the corridor, he led her past each of these to the next level and into the observation chamber.

"We've been reading some strange patterns recently. The Numbers are doing something and we don't know what it is." He said frankly looking up at her, straight in the eyes. Gwen nodded, as if she knew what he was talking about. She'd been so distracted recently that her work life had passed her by.

"It all started on November fifth."

"The Dyfatty Incident?"

"The very same." He nodded, turning to a wall of glass. The observation room consisted of a round chamber which overlooked the cells below. From her angle she could see nothing, but Euryale was no doubt looking in on The Numbers below. "The details concerning the events at the facility are… opaque, to say the least. The terrorists who have evaded us concern me greatly. But not as greatly as the peak in brainwave activity among The Numbers."

Gwen nodded slowly, trying desperately to control her expression. Her thoughts were on Flicker and her coma.

"The radiation's effects is already clear. All of the Others who went in came out stronger. The creature known as Core; her transformation is shocking enough." Euryale seemed to be rambling, he was gesturing with his arms, trying to eke out some niggling little thought like a splinter. "I was going over the tapes of the event. One of the Lamps has a photographic memory, you know. It saw." He turned to face her. He was smiling again, shaking his finger at her as if she'd done something wrong. Her blood felt like ice. "Did you know that they all dream of the sea?"

Gwen shook her head, her face blank. "Of course you don't," he continued, "You've been very distracted recently, young lady. Maybe you haven't noticed." He gestured with a hand and a holo image filled one half of the wall. It was a blurred, enlarged image of Squeeze holding Flicker in his arms. "I saw you then and I see you now, Gwen. The girl is the final link to the terrorists and ultimately to you." He spat, all of his calm and cohesion unravelling with one image.

He flicked his arm again and another image appeared. At first she couldn't make it out, the darkness in the picture seemed to draw away all the light, but details emerged. She saw the shimmering surface of the water, the slick stone of the quay and in the centre, her own younger self, gripped in concentration, dragging something out of the water. Her heart leaped into her throat and stayed there. With another gesture the image zoomed out to reveal the details of the image. Men stood in the foreground tipping cloth bound bodies into the Marina.

"I saw you then and I see you now." The image zoomed in again and the damning evidence shot into focus. She was dragging a body out of the water, a body she would later revive and would later adopt. "You kept one of the Flickers, didn't you? Like a toy; to play with; to use against me. Well. Lucky me, eh? I kept one too. She's Number 517."

ASBO-Boy - Stop the Press!

Evening Post
Thursday December 1st 2016

The Elementals Return!

The ASBO terror sweeping the Sandfields culminates in a tragic fire. Thousands injured, hundreds believed dead.

The city was stunned yesterday as one of its poorest Wards went up in smoke. The fire, believed to have been started by a rogue group of terrorist ASBOs, spread quickly spread through the narrow streets and tightly packed terraced houses, forcing residents to the Sandfields’ most narrow point.

Fire services and The Authorities reacted quickly, moving in to combat the fire and help evacuate the survivors. However, due to recent population fluctuations they were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of people and a pile-up was inevitable. Thousands were crushed as they tried desperately to scale the illegally built ‘shanty’ houses.

Almost at the last moment, the Elementals made their arrival and led the rescue operation, combining all of their abilities to stop the fire and get everyone out. An official spokesperson for the Elementals revealed that the organisation has been restructured. “We wanted to make it clear that they are of the people and for the people,” the Spokesperson revealed at a press conference later, “This is why they have had their uniforms redesigned and why they now have badges. To all intents and purposes they are part of the Police.”

Their three week absence was noted by many critics in the Council and this led to anxiety that they were being disassembled. “We never had any intention of disassembling the Elementals; we merely felt that after the incident at Dyfatty their effectiveness could be strengthened.” When asked about the events at Dyfatty on November 5th, the Spokesperson declined to comment.

The clean-up operation begins.

Work to repair the damage done to the Sandfields is underway, but the residents will not be able to fully return to their normal lives for several months. The least affected houses will be converted into temporary housing for as many people as can feasibly return. The rest will be housed in emergency accommodation along the sea front.

The Hunt for the ASBOs

The search for the four youths responsible for yesterday’s catastrophe began in force this morning. Beacon, on behalf of The Elementals, speaking at a press conference at Elemental Tower, made this statement: “Terrorism of any form will not be tolerated. In this instance the poor have suffered a devastating loss and we will not rest until we have brought to justice those responsible.”

The police are issuing warrants for their arrest and wanted posters are going up all over the city.

Millionaire Believed Dead

David Self, an entrepreneur, local hero and owner of the Vetch field and the timber factory that was the target of yesterday’s terrorist attack, is believed to have been lost in the disaster. Forensic experts, who arrived on the scene early this morning after the fire subsided, have begun work scouring the ruins of the factory for evidence. Self was seen working that day in his office at the heart of the building. Eye-witnesses reported a confrontation between him and one of the ASBO terrorists.

Self was an open and generous supporter of the Elementals. His twin son and daughter, Swelter and Elixir (15), both members of the current line-up, are said to be devastated.

A Question of Privacy

The issuing of this Newspaper’s first photograph in fifteen years has caused a media storm up and down the country. The City Council permitted the move in the belief that its shock value would emphasize the positive aspects of yesterday’s disaster as opposed to the negative. “It is important, that the public are confident in our abilities to defend this city. By showing the Elementals in action we believe we are doing the right thing.”

The question of privacy is one that has raged for decades. In many circles this photographic image has been deplored as political pornography and propaganda. Other, more liberal parties believe that the right to take photographic images should be extended to everyone.

Fashion Furore!

Our resident matron of the fashion world gives her views on the stunning new look for the Elementals:

Beacon: “Always the handsome leader, he looks very smart and grown up in his new uniform. The cut of the jacket and the more mature colours make him look older and lend weight to his authority. Oh, and that haircut makes him look ten times more dishy!”

Elixir: “A petite, slip of a girl has blossomed into a young woman with her new look. The fitted jacket and leggings are straight from the catwalks in Milan and Paris, and in six months they’ll all be copying her look.”

Swelter: “Sensibly they’ve kept his uniform similar to Beacon’s and Elixir’s, tying in with the more streamlined military look for the team. His new haircut makes him look every bit the bad boy.”

Siren: “The exception to the rule, it seems. They’ve kept her in a much more feminine costume, all in a gorgeous, angelic white. The cut of the cloak and the skirt over leggings and boots will have her on posters in every young boy’s bedroom. Divine!”

ASBO-Boy - Hero-ism Part 2

With a tumultuous heave Bark lifted the telegraph pole up onto his shoulders and plunged it into the hole in the pavement; then, just for good measure he channelled his strength through the wood until it sprung roots.

"Hippy." Arc-Light muttered. They were standing in broad daylight on Argyle Street repairing telegraph poles and the electricity supply. There was no one around. "So much for over-crowding." Arc-Light hovered in the air, concentrating on reconnecting all the wires, around her they waved like snakes in the wind. The street might have been empty but they knew they were being watched. Malady was behind them, going from door to door, window to window, drawing out their illnesses and swallowing them like sweets.

"How are you doing Mally?" Bark asked, moving broken pieces of pavement off the road and onto one of the many piles of spare rubble he'd built.

"Pony." Malady replied.

Bark nodded, scattering seeds in the cracks. Cars hadn't driven on these streets since before the Walls went up and all that remained of them were the rusty hulks in old gardens, since reclaimed by weeds and blackberries. Bark was keen to encourage life to return to the streets and turn the Sandfields into a Wood; in his wake, grass and flowers were springing up in the dead earth.

"You know, they use this road as a playground. I used to play here with my brother."

"Probably the safest road in Swansea." Arc-Light replied, descending. It was a bright November afternoon, a crystal clear sky and a sharp breeze from over the sea wall. They walked on to the next pole and Bark began to lift. Malady peered in through the boards covering a sash window. The room was filled with eyes.

Suddenly, she gasped and reeled backwards, tripping over the remains of a fire. The other two lifted her up and propped her up against a wall. Her skin had turned blue again and she was struggling to deal with something her power really didn't like.

"AIDS again?" Arc-Light asked, her voice a whisper. Malady nodded.

"Pony." She replied, her eyes bunched closed and her body quivering with the concerted effort, "Pony, pony, pony, pony, pony, pony, pony." Arc-Light rocked her back and forth as her body digested the infection and broke it down. When the convulsions stopped Arc-Light breathed again and cursed the day they'd got a twelve year old girl to cure Swansea on the strength of getting her a pony.

"Seren."

"What?" Arc-Light returned.

"Her name is Seren."

Arc-Light laughed. Malady had just cured AIDS for the second time today and probably for the fiftieth time since they'd started and still, all she could think of was the pony.

**

"You've got a nerve of steel, kid," David Self muttered, his eyes invisible behind a pair of red, shaded glasses, "I'm impressed. If you were doing anything other than trying to blackmail me I'd probably be offering you a job."

"Gutted." Squeeze replied, standing half in darkness on the other side of the grim office above the factory. Outside the window, the refurbished Vetch field glimmered in the cold winter light. Practising on its emerald surface were the Swans and watching them from all around were the members of committees, business-men, Self's friends and acquaintances. On the other side of the wall were the slums and not even the roar of the crowd could block out the smell on match day. Squeeze was pretty certain all slums smelled like that but he liked to think it was the smell of injustice.

"So," Self continued, leafing through the photos on his desk, "You've got one of me meeting this gentleman here, my aide, no less; you've got my aide, then, in several locations speaking privately to key members of the union. No prizes for guessing what about, eh? If this got out, I'd have a riot on my hands. Why on earth would you want to disrupt the infra-structure; something I've worked very hard to maintain for the past twenty years? The Spice, after all, must flow."

David Self, the oft titled Self-Made Millionaire, one of the richest men in Swansea, and, as it happened, one of the most corrupt. Then again, they were all corrupt.

"Because this isn't infrastructure, this is exploitation. This isn't a victory for the people, this is the reason you hold so much power at the council. These people are your tools." Squeeze had considerably less control of his temper than Self did and it began to unravel every time he opened his mouth.

"Ah yes," Self's anger seemed to dissipate at Squeeze's vitriolic outburst. "You're one of those pampered little boys who likes to think he's aware of what's going on; likes to think that he isn't pampered or lucky or well brought up; you see suffering around you and you feel guilty, so, of course, you don't blame the people who's fault it actually is – you blame your parents, you blame the people who've looked after you. You blame everyone but the guilty."

Squeeze had heard this rant before. It was one of his father's favourites.

"Had it ever occurred to you that the system we have today was brought about by a landslide victory; one which was fuelled by the votes of the poor, suffering people you claim to love so much? Had it ever occurred to you that perhaps your parents and their generation, the ones who could see what would happen, people like myself, voted against our current system?"

Squeeze hadn't heard that. It normally ended with a haunted 'Count your blessings', which he'd always assumed was as empty as the argument that preceded it.

"Boy. I love Swansea. I loved what it was before the Walls and I love it now, even though it took me a while to see how I could repay the injustice that had been dealt me and my family." Self said, standing up and walking to a case of medals. "Civic Duty, Civic Justice – awarded for National Pride and Influence." He continued, knocking the photos over. "Are you a nationalist, boy?"

Squeeze nodded, without thinking. Self laughed.

"When I was young, calling yourself a nationalist was tantamount to declaring you were bigoted. Now it simply means 'I care about my country'. And why shouldn't we, boy? Why shouldn't we? After all, we both care about our country. You seem to think that blackmailing me, because I'm 'obviously' corrupt, will solve all your problems. It wont. I'm not the guilty one. You are. The complacent generation who are being brought up to believe that Civic Duty is a bad thing because you've read some boot-legged copy of an old politics textbook and you think you know it all. You don't. If you just did what you were told, then we wouldn't be having this conversation.

"You know what annoys me more than anything else? You think I'm not trying to get more people into work; you think I'm exploiting my work force. In an ideal world the people of the Sandfields would all work in my factories because there is a place for everyone. It's not my fault they're lazy and ill and a waste of humanity. Definitions are changing boy, look at yourself for example, you are a prime example of what humanity is capable of. Physically, you're an evolved form and in spirit, you have the potential to achieve greatness. It makes me sick that people like you aren't fulfilling that potential."

Suddenly Self tore off his glasses and Squeeze's vision filled with bright light; it was too late to jump out of the way so he took the blast full in the chest and was propelled backwards into a shelf of glass. Dazed by the pain he sat there feeling the skin-suit searing into the flesh on his chest. All Others were kids, Squeeze thought, how on earth -

"I wonder," Self muttered, his eyes glowing, "If you know about how they breed chickens. It's an interesting, if sick little process where, in order to breed the best chicken, they encourage them to couple with members of their own family, thus producing a pure, 'better' chicken. Now, fortunately, I haven't had to couple with any of mine, but thanks to a little known process called the Euryale Cascade, this little ability I've picked up, well… let's call it a present from my son. I could've had water beams coming out of my eyes too, but let's face it. Fire is just cooler."

This time Squeeze managed to dodge the blast by propelling himself upwards. He was across the room and standing by the door in a single bound. Self returned to his table and picked up the photos, in a flash they were gone. "Next time you try to blackmail somebody, make copies."

Squeeze smiled, "It's a good thing I gave all your workers some before I came to see you. They've probably dealt with their moles by now." Self's face dropped and before he could open fire, so to speak, Squeeze threw his arms across the room and gripped Self by the collar, tearing him from where he was standing, through the door and down the steps, into the hands of an angry mob.

Squeeze found an obliging window as his exit but not before he listened to the screaming. With a feeling of grim satisfaction he stamped an ASBO flyer to the wall and left quietly, before the fireworks started.

**

Bark, Arc-Light and Malady were eating lunch. They hadn't spoken in half an hour and they were keeping their eyes exclusively on each other. Up and down the street the people were starting to emerge. They were talking in whispers, watching them in awe.

"Where's Squeeze?" Malady asked, voicing the question that had been irritating the other two for weeks. Bark shrugged and Arc-Light looked miffed. "Oh."

Malady looked between two of Bark's branches and saw someone stumbling over the uneven ground. Behind the man, his family were standing together pleading to him to come back.

The man stopped a short distance from their circle and knelt in the dust. He was facing Malady. She watched him move, his body was drained of its strength, his cheeks and eyes were drawn and sunken, his hair lank and greasy. "Thank you." He muttered.

Malady stood up and approached him. He looked ancient to her but he couldn't have been older than thirty. He was the man who had AIDS, one of the many she'd cured. She looked back at his family and knew that she'd taken the HIV from them too, they were standing in the dust, holding hands. "You've saved my family." She nodded, uncertain of what to say. In her mind she saw Seren in a field and felt her heart swell with joy but it was nothing, compared to how she felt that this man and his family were free. They were like lost souls, found after years of wandering. Uncertainty was gone, fear and ultimately their blight banished.

"You're welcome…" She said, taking his hand and lifting him to his feet. With his arm draped across her shoulder she walked him back to meet his family.

"Where's she going?" Bark asked.

Arc-Light watched the girl's gait change. She was walking slowly, assuredly. The skipping, bouncing, excitable little girl she'd met had become something else.

Then they heard the explosion.

Bark and Arc-Light were standing in an instant; Arc-Light launched into the air and saw a cloud of smoke and flame towering into the sky over the Vetch. The explosion set off a chain reaction in other buildings and like a scene from and old movie they went up one after another in quick succession. From here she could see Bark's little forest, the amount of wood on the streets and the tightly packed terraces. It wouldn't take long for the fire to spread.

The Wall around the Sandfields was circling them like a noose, she spun around to see where they could go. The farthest point from the fire was the Cwtch, a narrow shanty town built by the homeless. It was an old Welsh word that had since lost its meaning. From here she could see how the Walls narrowed together and formed a point at the farthest end. It was a bottle-neck and the fire would drive them into it. She descended and broke the news to to the crowd that had gathered around Bark.

"What can you do?" Someone shouted.

They shrugged silently, uncertain and scared. There was nothing they could do – neither of them had any control over fire.

"Bark! Arc-Light!" They heard a voice shouting in the crowd. It was Squeeze, lumbering over heads on legs like stilts. His face was white and it didn't take either of them long to figure out that this was his fault.

"What have you done?" Arc-Light demanded. Squeeze looked at her, scared and stupefied. He shrunk down to the ground and began stammering.

"I went back and tried – I did!" He began, nonsensically, but assuming they understood. "I didn't want this! This isn't what I –"

Arc-Light gripped him under the arm and gave him a look that could curdle milk. "Pull yourself together." He nodded. "These people need to be led to safety and we need you to help. Got it?"

He nodded again and wiped his jaw. "Right. Come on!" He shouted, turning to the masses, extending his legs so he craned over their heads. "We have to get out. Follow us and we'll lead you to safety."

This was his mess. He had to deal with it and bear the burden of the consequences; his pride had got him this far and now it would get him and everyone else out.

"Follow me!" He bellowed and began walking above the crowd.

ASBO-Boy - The Drowned

Around him the oily water shifted and swayed with the tidal currents. The sea was rising again. These days, Swansea bay didn’t come in and go out, it rose up the sea wall and diminished again. Like the waters of the Nile, its progress was marked up against the side like the growth of a child against a doorframe. Each month it grew higher and higher.

Omen, suspended in water and staring up into the sky, watched the stars as they swam in and out of the clouds. This wasn’t his dream and he knew it. He didn’t need to pinch himself or pick up a book to know where he was, his dreams had always been a staple part of his identity – but now he was slipping into other people’s and he didn’t know why.

“I’m glad you came.” Said a voice. He looked up and saw a girl in a dark skin-suit. She was standing in silhouette, the light pollution from the city behind her glowing like a halo. She was standing on the surface of the water. He floundered and splashed to get nearer to her and she laughed. In the same way that he knew he was dreaming, he knew that he wasn’t dreaming her, she was real.

“Who are you?” He spluttered.

“I am…,” She began, “You wouldn’t know me.”

“Are you the voice? The one who speaks to me? Are you Pantheon?!”

She didn’t answer for a time, she just stood and looked down at him as he wasted energy treading water. Eventually, earnestly, she replied. “No. Follow me.”

She began to sink under the surface and as she went she took his hand. He held his breath for as long as he could and he heard her laugh, the sound echoing in the gloomy waters. Finally his lungs exploded and he inhaled a lungful of Swansea bay. At first it hurt, then he began to savour the taste of the sea, the power it seemed to give him.

“Good,” she said, her hand releasing his, “We’ve passed through. You’ll start thinking like him now.”

“Who?” he garbled, but all that came out was bubbles. She smiled and pointed. He followed her finger, his eyes adjusting to the light. Up ahead he could see a form in the water, swimming in barrel rolls, up and down, around and around for sheer joy. It reminded him of –

“Spout.” She said, watching him like a ghost.

Omen reeled back and tried desperately to swim upwards but he was caught in a downwards current. The girl grabbed his wrist again and they followed after Spout as he swam. Omen didn’t want to be seen, he didn’t want to be recognised. This was an invasion of privacy – to see someone else’s dreams! It was bad enough that this girl was in his, but for him to be in someone else’s, a friend’s – it was repulsive.

The girl’s face hardened as they swam onwards, their pace increased as she led them on, faster and faster. The environment changed, they passed a wall in the water, the roots of the dark stones rising up out of the sand. Spout swam down to the sand to inspect something – an anchor from one of the static ships – they were in the marina now.

There was a splash from above, muted yet distinct. Spout cast it a cursory glance then ignored it. The girl seemed to fade, her hand gribbed Omen’s like a cold clamp. Omen watched as the shape fell silently to the bottom of the marina and sat there. It was long and wrapped in plaster strips, weighted at one end. Spout swam over to investigate, running his hands along the bone white surface. Soon, there were more splashes and identical forms all hit the sand one after the other. Curious, baffled, scared – Spout began to investigate further, with his sharp nails he began to tear at the plaster and peel it apart.

Omen could feel the girl shaking, he was compelled to watch but the sense of horror and expectation grew with each passing moment. Ten, twenty, thirty; he lost count as the sand bed filled with cocoons. Desperately Spout’s fingers bit into the plaster and tore away at the shell until it burst apart in a cloud of watery dust and debris. Omen grimly squinted into the cloud, his eyes morbidly desperate for details, for closure.

“They lied to us.” The girl said and she seemed to speak with a chorus of voices, all the same but magnified by ten, twenty, thirty…

Spout reeled back and tore open another cocoon. Omen caught a glimpse of his face, frantic and fixed in an expression Omen had never seen. Soon the water was clouded with white smoke and everything disappeared. The girl held Omen’s hand and they began to rise, up and up until they were out of the water and standing on the quay-side. Figures dressed in dark clothes were scouring the water with long poles, they were speaking in raised whispers. Bubbles were rising from the water – something was happening beneath the surface that wasn’t meant to and they wanted it to stop. Omen looked up at the girl and for the first time he was able to see all of her face, each of her mousy features set in an unreadable mask of stone. He turned back to the water and watched as black shapes bobbed to the surface; the men dragged their nets desperately through the water as more and more black shapes appeared. One of them shouted – he’d snagged something. In an instant they were all struggling to pull whatever it was out of the water.

Like a tug of war, the men on the quay-side pulled and pulled until the surface erupted in flurry of splashes. They’d caught Spout and he was struggling with every ounce of strength he possessed. They dragged him up the side of the marina and over the cold stone and bundled him, kicking and screaming into the back of a van. Within moments, the vans were gone and the only evidence that remained were the black forms in the water.

“They lied to us,” the girl said again, her voice hollow and drenched in sorrow. Omen mustered all the strength he could to turn his head one last time. He had to know, he needed to know…

The oily skin of the marina’s filthy water lapped against the wall and Omen held his breath as he poured over every last detail. Forms became distinct. He saw limbs, he saw hair and ultimately he saw faces. But not different faces, the same face. Every body was identical and all of them looked like her.

“They lied to us.”

He was awake. The sound of water exploded somewhere behind him and he heard frantic footfalls on the floor of the caravan. The door slammed and Omen opened his eyes. The smells were familiar and all that was different was the layer of sweat on his skin. Omen tore away the quilts and sat up. The terrible truth burned in his chest like a molten stone, sitting on top of his stomach, smouldering away and eating him up. He stood up and paced for a moment, walking backwards and forwards aimlessly, his mind racing, unsure of how he could go on knowing what he knew. He looked over at Spout’s tank and the watery mess on the floor. He’d gone.

Omen slammed the door open and peered into the darkness. There was no one. Watery footprints led off into the moonlight but were soon dry and indistinct. Lost. Omen knew that he had to find him and fast or no-one would ever see him again. He felt like he’d committed a terrible crime. What he’d seen was beyond personal, it was an affront to everything he understood to mean right and good. He’d gone, unwillingly, but he’d gone into the place where everyone was truly alone. Something had changed, so much had been flipped on its head that he had to run – just run until he found Spout.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for his power to kick in. Omen ran out of the Circus field and onto the main road that ran up against the sea wall and led, eventually, to the Mumbles. Spout was lying at its base, all of his strength gone. Omen saw the chipped stone, how he’d try to scale the wall and escape to the sea. Spout shook in the tall grass, his blue scales glimmering in the moonlight. Omen could see now how much younger he’d been when he was captured, the boy they’d pulled out of the marina wasn’t this gangly wretch.

“You don’t want to go back there.” Omen muttered, his voice shaking.

Spout shook his head. It was true, the sea wasn’t the answer.

“It was all real, wasn’t it?”

Spout nodded. Omen was once accused of having seen something he shouldn’t have, something he hadn’t understood, but this – he wished more than anything he hadn’t seen this. He kneeled down and put his hand on Spout’s back. Through his hand he felt the shaking; unrelenting, unstoppable…

“I didn’t want to see – I didn’t mean to – ”

Spout spun around and for an instant Omen thought he was going to hit him, but he just wrapped his arms around Omen’s neck and wept.

ASBO-Boy - Hero-ism: Part 1

Swansea was changing. The Elementals were gone; the police presence was diminished; the rich started to complain more than ever and the poor remained silent. Occasionally the ground shook and everyone was reminded of the thing that had come out of the ground and was now ‘living’, supposedly, in Singleton Park. It was an uncomfortable reminder to the comfortable that things were changing, things which were beyond their capacity to stop. The authorities were in hiding. They weren’t meant to be, after all, they were and always had been The Solution.

Weeks passed by and Squeeze barely noticed. Some nights he’d come in smelling of bins, other nights he’d be covered in paint again. If he closed his eyes and pretended the last year hadn’t happened he could almost see himself as he was before. He wasn’t the same person though and that was becoming clear.

“Today,” he began, standing in front of his friends in the basement holding a piece of paper left by Gwen, “We’re going to the Sandfields.”

Without the Elementals around the public had become jumpy, so initially they’d taken advantage of the gap with a spate of good deeds up and down the city. Cleaning up had been the order of the day and this included apprehending criminals the police couldn’t catch and tidying up the city. When he’d been told that he’d be painting over his old graffiti the others had clearly expected him to lose his temper. Collectively they’d held their breath waiting for his reaction, but in truth, he felt nothing, in fact, he welcomed the opportunity to do something good for the city. It was penitence. Armed with a can of paint, a brush and a wad of flyers he’d scoured every inch of the Uplands and beyond.

It hadn’t taken long for their good work to be noticed. Their well-meaning message fell on deaf ears and each was torn down and replaced with a wanted poster. All criminals who were bagged by the ASBOs were claimed by the Police without a mention of how they’d been caught. But the people knew and somehow the word got around. It didn’t take a genius to notice that the council wasn’t painting over the walls and the Civic Repair groups were crippled by their own corruption and how on earth had the police suddenly become 250% more efficient. Word got around.

“Gwen has left us some stats,” Squeeze continued, “Since Townhill and Mayhill were demolished, over 25% of the populations were reabsorbed by the Sandfields. In the seventeen years since the Walls were built the population has more than doubled, but it goes without saying that no new houses have been built to accommodate the new people.”

Bark was nodding, “We share our house with another family.”

“Obviously, we can’t build houses, it just gives us an idea of the problem we’re up against. The Council likes to think of it as a success story. The Vetch stayed in the Sandfields after all, says they, there are still jobs, they claim. But football and a few factories aren’t really enough. Half of the streetlights don’t work, buildings are unsafe and what was once a relatively nice place to live has become a slum.

“So, we go in. Arc-Light, Bark – you two are on repairs – Telegraph poles; electric wiring, etcetera – Gwen wants them back up and running. The police presence there is non-existent so we can walk around in broad daylight in the suits, we can show our faces, so to speak. Malady – Gwen has a specific op in mind for you, but it kinda needs you to be really happy.”

Malady looked up. She hadn’t been the same since the bunker, despite the fact that her ability had gradually expanded to react to a whole new spectrum of emotions. It was the same with all of them, their powers had swollen beyond their original abilities. Bark had started planting the seeds from his back in parks and within weeks they grew to full height. Arc-Light had begun to see what she described as energy patterns; she understood how electricity worked, how it moved, how it behaved and Squeeze could now stretch his body to more than double its original length.

Malady understood. Happiness and pain were still her most potent emotions and everyone knew it. Squeeze didn’t feel comfortable with making her heal people; it felt too much like they were using her to change their image, and even though she was helping people it didn’t make him feel any better about asking her in the first place. But, if they managed to change the system then she’d be able to go back and have a normal life.

“Which is why we’ve got you this…” Squeeze handed her a wad of papers. Malady looked down the page and for a moment her expression didn’t change, then it shifted gear and the magnitude of what she’d received dawned on her fully. Laughing, crying, she skipped around the room hugging everyone before darting off upstairs, no doubt to show her parents.

The others smiled and Squeeze continued grimly, “With any luck she’ll be able to start curing people tomorrow. Everything from nits to cancer.”

“What will you be doing?” Arc-Light asked, her tone was off-hand, but the question was loaded.

“The same thing I’ve been doing for the past four weeks. Cleaning up.”

That night Squeeze lay back in bed and thought about what he was doing. Gwen had asked him how badly he wanted things to change. He’d told her that he was prepared to do anything. Was he, she asked, prepared to break the law and risk a lengthy prison sentence in order to do this? Was he prepared to, potentially, take the fall for everyone else? Was he prepared to keep this secret for the time being in order to start a revolution? He’d said yes, and with that she’d handed him a digital camera.

Possession of a camera was illegal. More punishable than drugs, arms or pornography. Beneath the pillow Squeeze held its cold, metallic surface and pondered how he was going to get the next picture.

ASBO-Boy - 715

INTERVIEW NO: = = 774526100 = = = MONDAY MAY 2ND 2016 = =
SUBJECT: Nia Jones, Positive Other, PROBO Awarded.

GWEN: Are you comfortable? Do you want a drink?
NIA: I’m fine, thanks.
GWEN: In that case, we’ll crack on. I’ll just ask a series of introductory questions first. Can you tell me a little about your family?
NIA: Umm, well, we live in the Uplands. I think my Father came from Llanelli before the Walls went up and my Mother came from Crofty. They both work in Singleton Hospital as Managers.
GWEN: Excellent. As you know, potential candidates for the Elementals are screened from a young age. Your academic profile and your civic reputation are spotless. I would, however, like to know more about your powers…

“Is this who you are?”

Nia blinked in the light. She felt dizzy and disoriented. There was no way of telling whether she was standing up or sitting down.

“Is this who you are?”

Nia felt her body flooded with energy. Her power was working overdrive and it ebbed from her skin in euphoric waves, as it did she felt the presence in her mind become stronger. The disembodied voice gasped with delight and suddenly –

“Have you ever thought about leaving Swansea?”

Nia blinked again and looked around. She was in Brynmill Park sitting underneath The Tree. Lying next to her in the grass, on top of that tartan picnic blanket, was Mike. He’d asked her this question before.

“Nia? Are you alright?” He sat up, concerned. She shook her head and grabbed a cucumber sandwich. It was bland and nothingy, but then again all cucumber sandwiches tasted like that. She smiled. This is a memory.

“Mike?” She asked, “You’re an idiot, you know that right?”

Mike shrugged, “Yeah. You keep telling me.” His body weight shifted slightly and she felt one of his broody moments coming on. The gesture was so intuitive that it brought back a flood of warm nostalgia. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her. She couldn’t remember ever being this forceful, but sometimes you have to get your kicks where you can. Without a drop of her original fear, she leaned in to kiss him –

“Wow.”

She was back in the white space again. Suspended in nothing. The disembodied voice was floating there beyond the light. There was something familiar about it that she couldn’t put her finger on –

“Show me what you saw. In the Forbidden Place.”

Something exploded nearby. Falling rock landed all around them and Nia flinched. They emerged in a room with recognisable walls and a large steel door. Mike was ahead – weren’t they just…? – he was carrying somebody, the forms seemed to blend together.

Around them were cans; vast containers filled with god-knows-what –

“No.”

The room was empty. At their feet was a run-off for a drainage system, in the distance she could hear water –

“No.”

The floor was smooth stone. The only sounds came from the falling rock behind them. Mike was urging them onwards now, he turned to look at her and she saw the figure in his arms. She was an ASBO, small, mousy; Nia recognised this girl, it was as if she’d met her in a dream –

She was back in the white space. This time it was different.

All around her, she could hear crying. It was a sorrow so pure that it made her feel cold and small.

“They lied.” The phantom voice whispered, each syllable laced with grief and anger. The words echoed in her head like thunder.

“When the Walls fall you will remember.” The voice ground into her mind with a violent, white pain; Nia felt her sanity starting to tear. “You will remember by the word Pantheon. You will remember me and all that you have seen. Truth will be my gift to you. I will break them, I will grind this world into dust.”

NIA: I want to help people. My power lets me do that. It feels liberating watching people grow stronger.
GWEN: And you want to use it to help people?
NIA: Yes. I’ve always wanted to stop crime. It’s irrational. With a system that provides for everybody, why do people need to break the law?
GWEN: So, you believe the system works?
NIA: Yes, more than anything. The fact that we’re having this conversation – the fact that I’m going to be able to help people, thanks in part to you guys. It’s all proof.