Young Writers Society

AN: I admit. I had to work for this one. Not too proud with how it turned out, but I dislike this version over the last two drafts of this chapter the least. Author notes won't happen often, so... read. Enjoy. Hasta la vista, or something. 

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I woke up mid-fall and landed in a heap alongside the box that contained my newer (spare) uniform, and blaring alarms that threatened to burst my eardrums. As I shook my head clear of any grogginess, trumpets started to play over the intercom, and I immediately knew the culprit.

“Tintin!” I groaned out in my sleepy demeanor. It felt far too early for me to be awake, and I told the silent SI as much. They responded by shoving the time in my face.

It was one in the afternoon. I remembered that it was a Wednesday, and scrambled to open my phone that was hidden in one of my current non-ruined pockets. I groaned again when I saw the five missed calls and twenty texts that flooded my phone.

Jess and Carla. I resisted the urge to curse and instead just groaned aloud again. I checked the first text, which came from Carla.

‘Woo! no school today! time to have some fun!’ I silently thanked whomever came up with group chats and read the rest.

Jess: ‘Damn. Wanted to get confirmation about an assignment.’

Carla: ‘get yo damn confir over email!’

Jess: ‘Forgive me if I wanted a professional work environment.’

Carla: ‘whatever. heya Gwennie, you up????’

It continued like that for a good few texts, with Carla asking me in increasing bastardizations of my name if I were awake, ignoring them, or simply forgot to charge my phone. Which I did forget to do, though it was easily rectified by my power. They continued on their separate texting convos, and the latest one from Jess spoke out in particular..

Jess: ‘Hey. Sorry about what happened yesterday. In the car? I could tell you were a bit quiet about the whole school invasion and cringed a lot when the radio came on. Just wanted to know if you were alright?’

I massaged my temples while I thought. It wasn’t the first time I contemplated telling my friends the truth. Who I was, how intertwined my life was with Conduit’s. I somehow didn’t doubt it would be the last. It hurt to think about it.

The lights flickered on and off above me in a monotonous pattern, and I blinked away the heaviness in my eyelids to keep myself from falling back to sleep on the hard floor. “Thanks, Tintin. But next, don’t try to give me tinnitus, okay?” I stood up, and looked at the resulting message. ‘NOT SORRY. YOU WERE DROOLING ON YOUR KEYBOARD.’

“Heh.” I couldn’t help it. I giggled.

Eventually, after being reassured by Tintin that no one was on this floor, (no one else had access besides registered heroes, but I could never be too sure) I changed out of my ruined suit and shirt and put on the extra.

Like before, it fit like a glove against my body, tight and secure. I was confident enough to take a bullet and get right back up, and my powers flowed freely throughout its inner workings.

Grabbing the granola bar from a roomba-robot with arms, and accepting the high-powered tase it shocked into me, I thanked Tintin as I left the office.

The elevator down was unassuming, and I steadied myself as it opened in the middle of the plaza.

Due to it being just past twelve, people all around were gathered to take advantage of the volunteer homeless feeding, take pictures of beloved heroes as they left through the main exit/entrance, or just explored the gift shop and food court. The base of the tower was large, expansive, and as Greg hoped, happy.

My mood soured slightly when I remembered where he, Mina, and Terry were at the moment, but I steeled myself. Greg, Mina, and Terry were fine. They are okay. They’re not going to die.

I should’ve realized paparazzi and others might’ve been waiting for me. The first thing I got when I stepped out of the elevator was a bright flash that caused my goggles to darken internally.

“Hey, it’s Conduit!” 

“Conduit’s here!”

“Conduit, Conduit! Over here!”

The name “Conduit” got flung around to and fro until I could hardly register it. I tried my best to keep my head down when I remembered that I wasn’t really Gwen right now.

Lightning poured from me like water from a fountain, and everyone holding a camera immediately dropped it as they popped and sparked from overcharging. Dark blue tendrils reached and wrapped around light fixtures while I walked the remaining distance outside. With a thought, lightning curled back to my body, settling alongside the dark blue glow of my suit. Everyone stared, obviously, and some brave soul from behind the people who had their cameras and phones destroyed came forward as I stared silently back at the crowd.

“Hi, Lisa Hebert, Eye For Insight. Is there a reason, Conduit, that happens to explain why you deliberately destroyed some of my colleagues property?” She was shorter than me, with blonde hair tied back in a pony tail and a warped, devil-may-care smile alongside a recording smartphone.

Tintin’s rampant texts appear in my goggles vision, but I ignored it, alongside every piece of PR training as I spoke my mind. “Tinman, Aegis, and Ammo are currently trapped in the Third Boston Games.” Her smile died pretty quickly after that, and despite the sudden shouts, cries, and loud murmuring of the crowd behind her, I continued.

“Because of the situation we find ourselves in, I’ve become the only active member of the International Hero League in Shepard City. I’ve no time for interviews or press conferences with anyone until I can assure everyone that I will not tolerate any villain who hopes to stake a claim in this city.” My anger was apparent as dark lightning trailed my body again, and the blog writer took a step back as my power writhed. “Take note, everyone watching. As long as that bubble shield over Boston stands, I will not falter in my home. With gathered help from vigilantes in this city, and reinforcements from the IHL, we will keep the peace. This city still stands after the Triple A, and it will keep standing after this. I am Conduit, Hero of the Second Boston Games. And to the villains who dare to attack in these trying times…” I took the time to seal my lightning back under my skin, and my hands tightened into fists as I looked into the bloggers camera.

“Try it. I dare you.”

I twisted my body around just as everyone began to swarm me again. The blogger was no doubt excited and terrified of what she has on hand now, and I…

As I climbed the nearest electric pole and stood on its end, zaway from the crowds, my body trembled for breath.

I was never good at talking to crowds. I was always with someone else, like Tinman, who could take most of the attention with his friendly charisma, or Aegis and her authoritative tone that could force anyone into submission.

God. I wanted to kick myself. I was nearly four years in this job, and my crowd control skills amounted to balls of lightning and the occasional thunderstrike.

It was times like these that I was glad that I, that Conduit, was known country-wide for what’d she done in the Second Boston Games. I was glad that these people knew they were talking to an experienced hero and would ask the right questions. I remember when they liked to swarm me, asking hurtful and intrusive questions to pull a reaction out of an orphaned, superpowered girl and then cheering on payday after getting her to cry on live television.

I’m not bitter. I don’t get bitter.`

I was pulled out of my mini-panic by Tintin’s texts. ‘WELL. THAT COULD HAVE GONE BETTER.'

I chuckled, and even that died off quick. "You're right. I'm sorry, I'm just..." Worked up? Frustrated?

Scared? 

'IT'LL BE FINE. IT’S CLEAR TO EVERYONE WATCHING THE NEWS THAT YOU CARE. DO NOT WORRY, CONDUIT. YOU’VE GOT THIS.’ Despite my feelings, I smiled. I knew they couldn't see it, so I said my thanks.

‘IT’S NO PROBLEM, GWEN. YOU’RE MY FRIEND. NOW, HERE ARE DIRECTIONS TO WHAT I’VE TRIANGULATED AS BLIZZARD’S POINT OF ORIGIN BASED ON HER COMMON ROUTES.’ A blue indicator appeared in my goggles, and I hopped off the tip of the pole and began my grind.

I was going to have to make good on what I said. I was only one person, one hero. Blizzard was one of three others that operated sporadically in Shepard City. The only reason that I'm going after her is because of what Technomon dared to accomplish. Knowing where she lives probably isn't going to win me any points, but I didn't care about that.

I need a talk with her on the safety regulations of her "equipment" anyway.

Believe it or not, I don’t get bitter. Very few things can get me to hold a grudge. But in less than two days, I’ve been shot, rendered unable to save my friends, and am now forced to get along with super-powered loners. And my lightning had a way of reacting to my feelings. As I bunny hopped over a utility pole, it lashed out, twirling and branching, feeling out for the path of least resistance. And anybody who knew me, as both Gwen or Conduit, would be able to tell how I was feeling.

I was pissed.