Microstory 2655: Shadow of the Throne

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They’re here. They’re in Loegria, specifically just outside the walls of Camelot’s lower town. It was a fine walk all the way out here, which is part of the immersive experience. There were no trains in the middle ages, so the castle is a full forty-two kilometers from the entrance. For a normal person in those days, that might have taken a couple of days, or more, including rest. Many come to this dome with intentionally low-grade substrates to really feel the antiquity of it all. Team Ravensgate doesn’t care about that experience. They just need to get the job done. It takes them four hours of sustained powerwalking. The clothing was the most difficult part. In order to be let through the gates, they decided to travel as nobles, and people like that dressed for attention, not comfort or practicality. Reagan has it the worst. He’s portraying a knight.

“I speak the language, so let me do the talking,” Mandica encourages. “This dome is not a hundred percent accurate. Women and people of color are not treated as second-class citizens. The NPCs are programmed to ignore it.” They draw nearer. “Good morrow, kind sir!” she calls up to one of the guards. “We are travelers to Glastonbury, and require one night of rest. Is there room at the inn for three ladies and their knight?”

The guard stares daggers before reaching behind his back and taking out a parchment. He unrolls it, and leans over to the side to show the other guard. It appears they are comparing something on it to the team. He clears his throat. “You have been expected, Lady Raven of Dakota, The Hollow Red Woman, and the Shadow of Doubt.”

“Please enter,” the other guard adds as the gates are opening for them. “Make your way to the tiltyard for your challenge.” He chortles. “I do not like your odds.”

“We did not sign up to joust,” Mandica informs them.

“You are on the list, you are fighting in the grand mêlée,” he replies with a shrug.

“Morgana knows we’re here,” Reagan guesses as they’re walking through.

The lower town is exactly how you would think. The first thing they see is the market, where locals, neighboring farmers, and travelers are selling their wares. The road leads up the mountain, towards the castle. They don’t know precisely where the tiltyard is, but it’s the biggest tourist attraction in the land, so it will be obvious enough. Mandica did not look too much into how it works when you legitimately sign up to visit this dome. Do you start as a serf, and try to work your way up, or is it like Ravensgate, where you get to write your full character sheet? Malika made herself rich in Underbelly, and that was fine since not everyone finds that to be the best gaming experience. They may have rules against that here, however. Perhaps all other nobles are NPCs. Anyone they come across could be a visitor, and if they are, will be a lot less likely to break character than people in Underbelly. They’re not just playing cops and robbers, but living an ancestral life 24-7. Being truly immersed is the entire purpose.

They continue up the mountain. The townspeople scowl until they think they’ve been caught, then turn away to avoid punishment. They knew they wouldn’t have a lot of fans, dressed like this. It was necessary to get through that gate without issue. Though, they didn’t expect to be let in quite that easily, or be expected. But it’s fine. If Morgana wants to fight, they can fight. That’s why they came here prepared.

They make it to the tiltyard, which is full of people. A runner apparently beat them here so he could warn the Marshal of their arrival. The stands are completely full. The audience begins to cheer uproariously when the four of them enter the grounds. Morgana didn’t only send word to her guardsmen. She prepared the whole town. She wants to make a show of it. She probably wants to humiliate them.

The Knight Marshal stands on his platform, and begins to bellow his announcement. He tells false tales of where the four of them come from, making up annoyingly elaborate backstories, which the governing AI must have developed for them since they didn’t take the time to write their own. They’re expected to stand there and look confident or scared. They don’t have time. “Excuse me?” Jaidia interrupts.

The Knight Marshal glares at her before turning back to the crowd so all can hear. “You will have your chance to speak when I am finished!”

“Right, but is Morgana here?” Jaidia continues.

“Or Morgan le Fay?” Mandica adds, not sure which name they use for her here.

“Lady Morgana is in Avalon, where she—hey! Hey!” He’s getting mad because the four of them are simply leaving. “Hey, I have this whole introduction planned! I’ve been working on this all day! It’s not easy to speak in this weird Chaucerian shit!”

“Save your complaint for your review!” Malika argues back.

A wiry little man skitters up to them as they’re leaving. “Seek ye the road to Avalon? I know the way. Lady Morgana, she lays traps for those who would do her harm. If you are not pure of heart, or sharp as steel, you may wander for days in a circle that looks straight. I can shine a light upon the true path. I am a humble man. All I ask—”

Mandica strikes him in the chest with her open palm, sending him crashing into the brush in the ditch. Her friends are neither bothered, nor confused. “That’s enough, shapeshifter! We’re taking you to Castledome, where you will face judgment!”

The impostor smirks as he’s standing back up. His skin mutates into nanites, and begin to crawl all over his body, changing shape, changing color, and changing her size. A dark mist swarms her for effect. The statuesque Morgana stands before them. She breathes with an unsettlingly bright smile, as if this form is more comfortable, though if she is made entirely of nanobots, it doesn’t feel like anything, and any preference for form would be merely psychological. She’s not even breathing at all. “Do you really want to have this anachronistic fight here?” she asks with a cackle. “Steward wants to bring me in for breaking the rules. You would break them in service to your fool’s quest?”

“Sure.” Reagan takes out his decoherence gun, and shoots Morgana in the chest without hesitation. He has been working on it in secret for decades. Once it’s perfected, he will be able to use it on the man who oppressed him, and is still oppressing his people back home. It will kill every single back-up of anyone streaming their consciousness outside of their body. For now, it is only capable of destroying this one copy, but Azad is standing guard outside of Vanore’s substrate storage chamber. After she returns to her regular body, he won’t let her reinsert herself into the simulation.

With no time to react, Morgana falls to pieces. It’s powerful enough to disrupt the brain’s electrical signals, which means it’s also capable of breaking your average, everyday electromagnetic bonds. If she were more solid, it would not have been so dramatic. More people witnessed it than they realized. They begin to crowd around. “You...you killed her,” a child says. “You killed the witch. Will you save the queen now?”

“The queen?” Malika asks. “Who is the queen? Why does she need saving?”

“Why, ‘tis Guinevere, of course. She withers in the high tower.” The child points. “The King will give you anything if you kill the Bane of Loegria, and set his heart free.”

Microstory 2649: Fake, Staged, and Phony

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Mandica is looking at herself in the mirror. The costume fits—that’s not even a question—Elysia’s tailor knew what they were doing. She’s not sure if it’s her. It feels like something is missing. Maybe it’s just that she feels like a fraud in it.

“Turn around,” Reagan suggests. “Look over your shoulder.”

Mandica turns. “Oh. You can see the stone.” That might be her problem with it.

“Is that bad?” he asks.

“I think so. I don’t think I want to advertise it. I can’t explain it, and wouldn’t be comfortable trying even if I did understand it.”

“Sorry,” Elysia apologizes. “It’s partially backless for style. I obviously didn’t have a magical stone lodged in my back.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I like the outfit. I like backless. I just don’t think it’s right for this situation, assuming I go through with my first field test today.”

Reagan chuckles. “If you’re a raven, maybe you should have wings. Those would cover up the stone.” He looks over at Elysia. “I always thought you should have wings.” He looks at Jaidia. “You too, since you’re both birds.”

“They would have only gotten in the way,” Jaidia explains. “It’s not like they would have allowed us to fly. They would not have been powerful enough.”

“Ha, yeah,” Mandica agrees. Then she realizes that this is not entirely true. She has seen a human fly with wings before. They weren’t even all that big. Why aren’t there flying superheroes in this world already? It has to be possible. Mythodome is bound to the same laws of physics. They don’t have any sort of advantage. In fact, if anything, they’re at a disadvantage, because most of the technology there is archaic.

“What are you thinking about?” Reagan asks, noticing her glassy eyes.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing,” Mandica replies. Daedalus does apparently owe her a favor. But no, that’s crazy. She can’t wear functional wings. And besides, she can’t leave Underbelly anymore, so there’s not even any way to reach out to him. She has come to accept her new boundaries. Ravensgate is her home now. It had to be somewhere, and she’s grown quite fond of her friends. She has been missing Malika, however, who has opted not to return to this simulation. She’s evidently relaxing on some island in Aquilonian Deep. Mandica doesn’t know how relaxing it could be, though. Polar Tropica is the nice vacation ocean. The north pole ocean, on the other hand, is cold and rough.

Elysia returns holding something black. Is it...a bib? It looks like a bib. “So. Cleavage is common in comic book stories. I didn’t design my costume by accident. I like feeling sexy. But I have also needed to cover up more in certain situations, namely when I participate in speaking engagements at grade schools.” She shakes the bib. “This is an accessory that I have used for that. It goes under the straps, and clips onto the collar.”

“You think I should cover up my boobs all the time?” Mandica questions.

Elysia laughs. “No. It should work in reverse.” She comes up behind Mandica, and slips the bib—she’s never going to stop calling it that in her headcanon—over her head, clipping it to the back. “Yeah. You can’t see the stone anymore; not at all. How did you get it to stop glowing?” It’s been months since the original Ravensgate Rescuer was killed. She has been training Mandica to take up the mantle ever since, and being a real good sport about losing her powers. She hasn’t complained or acted bitter once. She says that passing the baton to a young protégé is a staple of superhero stories.

“It stopped glowing on its own,” Mandica answers. “I don’t know how, but I believe I know why. I could feel it happen. I think it was fully done with its job, and was ready to go dormant, like a car sitting idle until you turn the engine off completely.”

“What happens if I touch it again?” Reagan asks, harkening back to the orgasm doing this gave her, which she has not told anyone else about.

“Nothing. Nothing will happen,” Mandica tells him. “Don’t do it.” She spends another minute looking over her shoulder into the mirror, and moving around to make sure the bib doesn’t slip off on its own. She takes a deep breath, and looks out the window. “I’m ready, but are you sure I shouldn’t start out after dark?”

“No, we want people to see your debut,” Elysia encourages. “They should see that outfit, and recognize you as the new Ravensgate Rescuer. You can move to the shadows later, but I would rather find a daytime replacement for Blue Umbra first.”

“I thought that Cardinal Sin was out there now.” With Blue Umbra gone, Wave Function has been going out on the streets without her. He’s not been alone, though. Cardinal Sin performed a heel-face turn and became a good guy, which is absolutely not unheard of in the superhero genre either. The public is generally on board with the change, but some hypothesize that it’s a ruse. They think she’s preparing something evil again. They don’t know what happened to her. She had to modify her own suit to cover up the massive scars on her face with a larger mask. She’s not ashamed of them, but they can’t be seen both when she’s Mildred, and while she’s masquerading as a vigilante. She had to pick an identity to cover them up for, with the obvious choice being the one where she’s expected to wear some kind of concealment anyway.

“I like the night too,” Jaidia says. “I don’t want to stop playing a hero, but I’ve never loved the sun. On Proxima Doma, I lived underground.”

Mandica nods in understanding. “Okay. I guess I’ll go out and look for trouble.”

“Trouble is already waiting for you,” Elysia claims. She walks over to the door and knocks on it, which is a weird thing to do when you’re already inside the apartment.

Anyway, it opens, and a man walks in. He goes straight to Mandica, and holds out his hand. “Hello. My name is Grover Pecan, but in the streets, you will see me as the supervillain known as Velvet Thunder. I’ll be aiding your debut today.”

“Wait, we’re...we’re gonna plan a fight?” Mandica questions.

“This is how it’s usually done for debuts,” Elysia explains. “You can fight the dummies in the training sector of the plaza. You can bend iron rods at The Depot. You can train in an abandoned warehouse. But nothing is like being out in the field, in a real fight. Think of it as the next—but not last—step in your training. Velvet Thunder will go easy on you, but for the sake of the civilians, he’ll make it look good. You fight as hard as you can. You do what you think you’re supposed to do. It’s staged, so if something goes wrong, you can learn from your mistake without worrying about being killed off on your first day. That used to happen constantly, so they started doing it this way.”

“Okay,” Mandica decides. “It’s nice to meet you, Grover, a.k.a. Velvet Thunder.”

He smiles at her. “I think you look great as the new Rescuer. I never got the chance to say this before, but have you thought about adding wings?”

After making a plan, Grover leaves to change into his dark cloud costume. They meet downtown and pretend to fight it out like gods amongst ants. Within ten minutes, an elevated train falls on Mandica, and she dies instantly. Maybe she does need wings.

Microstory 2644: Origin Stories

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The optic void scanners don’t exist within the simulation. They aren’t necessary as you supposedly can’t get into the dome without an ID, so there should be no concern. Mandica is safe from being caught as long as she stays here, but she does have to stay. There’s not much hope for anything changing in the future, unless she gets the sense that the administrative leaders won’t punish her for being unregistered. Truthfully, she doesn’t even know if they would be upset about it now or what the consequences might be. If she asks, then they’ll know, and there’s no going back from that. It must be some kind of problem, or Trilby and Yunil Tereth would not have worked so hard to help her avoid detection. She’s going to have to make a life here, as the most vulnerable person in the city. That’s frightening, and she has two options when it comes to that. She can stick with the heroes and player villains who can protect her from danger, or she can specifically avoid them so she doesn’t get wrapped up in their violent games. She doesn’t know which she is going to choose yet. Ravensgate refers to the city proper, but there are suburban neighborhoods beyond the city limits, still under the dome, and even a few rural towns on the furthest edges. They would be the place to go, but if Morgana has it out for her, nowhere is safe if she is alone, so she is leaning towards staying.

She’s been living in Blue Umbra and Wave Function’s lair for the last few weeks. Elysia and Jaidia didn’t have much room in their apartment, and Mandica’s heart skips a beat every time she sees Jaidia’s face. She’s been very sweet and understanding, and Mandica is comfortable believing that she had nothing to do with the attack. Still, this is what’s best for everyone. Wave Function, whose real name is Reagan Dorsey, has been particularly attentive. Blue Umbra has been going out on patrol alone a lot lately so he can stay with Mandica. Like half of the players here, he has a hero complex, so he feels obligated to protect the one person who genuinely needs it. He talks about time travel a lot. The reason Underbelly has the social credit to exist is because real life superheroes wouldn’t be any more powerful than the majority of the population. Their specific ability sets may not be common, but they’re obviously possible, which makes most of the world relatively safe. That’s why Mandica left Earth, because many wanted to protect her, and she didn’t feel she needed it until she entered this simulation. Reagan wants to go back in time to be a real superhero for a world that would value and appreciate it.

“I can walk, I can get my own ramen,” she argues.

“I just know you really like this stuff,” Reagan says.

“Yeah, I had never had it before. I mean, I’ve had noodles, but not like this.”

“There’s something very comforting about the mass produced packaged stuff. Of course, it’s not actually mass produced, but they use the exact same recipe as people did way back in the day. Here ya go.” He hands her the bowl.

“Thanks,” Mandica says to him. Before eating, she watches as he sits back down with a contented expression on his face. When she was a nomad, she learned to be forthright and efficient. She didn’t have time to develop relationships slowly. If she sparked with someone, they had to get on with it, or by the time they built any real trust, she would have to move on. “Do you have romantic feelings for me?”

He’s taken aback by this. “I...probably, but I’ve been trying not to pressure you into exploring anything,” he says nervously. “Why? Do you have feelings?”

“I don’t usually get attached to people,” Mandica begins to explain. “There’s not enough time for it. I never met another nomad who I wanted to connect with, and either way, it’s hard. You would think that any two nomads who click could travel together, but we all wanted to choose where we went, and we didn’t like having to get it approved by someone else. My parents were kind of outliers in this regard. I’m still not looking for a partner, but if we’re just talking about sex, I’m available, and currently have the time.”

“Hold on, there, Buckaroo Billy. That may be how Wave Function operates when he’s around the ladybots, but that’s not the real me. If I’m dealing with a sentient person, I need time to get to know them first.”

Mandica shrugs. “It sounds like we have incompatible social practices. I just thought I would ask in case you were only being nice—”

“Hold on, don’t finish that sentence,” Reagan interrupts. “I resent the suggestion that I can only be nice to people when I want something. I lived in a regular community before I came here, and my relationships—both platonic and romantic—were real and sincere. I don’t manipulate people.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. That’s my poor social skills. I don’t get along with people, which is why I tend to gravitate towards superficial and brief interactions.”

He nods. “It’s okay. It’s just, the reason my character acts the way he does is very specifically because that’s not how I am at all. I’m only playing here. My other four personas had different personalities. I change it every time I come back in.”

Mandica nods too, then waits a beat. “Where did you live, before Castlebourne?”

Reagan’s face falls a little. He’s not offended again, but he’s not looking at her. “A little planet called Ex-926. We manufactured weapons. That’s why I don’t have much in the way of special powers. I know more about machines than the human body.”

“Ex-926,” she echoes. “I’ve never heard of that. Was that colony founded after I went relativistic in 2424? What star does it orbit?”

He sighs. “No. It’s been around for a while. We didn’t have a name for our sun.” He stays silent for a moment before finally looking over at her. “You’ve been honest with me about your origins, so I’ll return the favor. Please don’t tell anyone else, though. Not even Malika knows where I’m from. I talk about time travel so much, because for me, it’s not a theory. It’s very real, and more common than you think. A very evil man used it to go back thousands of years in the past. He brought human samples with him, and used them to found an empire 16,000 light years from here, which he has ruled this entire time. A small crew of heroes showed up several decades ago, and started rescuing refugees. I was one of them. Hrockas was kind enough to take us in. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m doing this. It’s not for fun. I’m training myself. It doesn’t bother me when I have to switch characters, because it gives me the chance to accumulate new skills. One day, I’m gonna go back to the Goldilocks Corridor. I’m gonna confront The Oaksent, kill every single back-up body he has, and free the rest of my people.”

Mandica stares at Reagan. Most of the players have come up with pretty elaborate backstories, and origins of their powers. But time travel? Oppressive empires thousands of light years beyond the range of space colonization. That is a little much, and he has always been better at turning off his superhero character when he comes home. Could he possibly be not lying? “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not real, is it?”

He stares back, then laughs...unconvincingly. “No, of course not. I’m joking.”

Microstory 2503: Sibling of the Savior

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My brother, the hero. Yeah, it’s petty, but I can’t help but be annoyed by this. Obviously I love my brother, and obviously he’s doing good work, and obviously I shouldn’t be jealous. It’s hard, ya know, to live in the guy’s shadow. I’m older than him, and I’ve always been good at what I do. It’s not that I’m immediately great at everything I try. Well, it is, but not how you think. I’m good at everything I try, because I only try things that I know I’m gonna be good at. That’s my real skill, knowing myself so well. I can picture it in my mind, and if I imagine how it’s going to turn out, and if it’s no good, I simply won’t go down that road. I didn’t love growing up being more successful than my brother. I wanted him to succeed. I just didn’t know what it would look like once he finally did. People—total strangers—stop me on the street now. They all ask the same questions, about how I must be so proud, and also whether I have any magical powers too. No. No, I don’t. It’s not hereditary. He received them as gifts from other people. I’m not downplaying how important he’s become, but come on, I had nothing to do with it. Whoever these people were, they didn’t come to me. Why not? Well, we don’t have the whole story, but they didn’t seek Landis out either. He happened to be in the right place at the right time. It easily could have been anyone else who lived or worked in that area. I’m complaining a lot, I get it, it’s just annoying because I feel like I’ve addressed this in interviews, yet instead of actually doing their own research—which would take all of five minutes—they ask me again and again. And the jokes, oh the jokes. I’ve heard them all, and everyone thinks they’re so clever, like they’re the first to come up with them. Give me a break. I had a chance to live at the hotel with Landis. He wants me to. Our parents have their own suite. I just don’t want to be involved in all that. I’m sure they could use someone with my technical skills, but I’m happy where I’m working. They need me there. In fact, we still don’t know what this fabled panacea is going to do to the global economy yet. People like me need to stay where they are to keep the lights on once we conquer death, and people stop spending their money. Do you have any idea how much we spend on health? It drives the whole world, because the death rate has been at a steady 100% throughout all of human history. If the day comes that that changes, no one at that hotel is gonna be able to save you, or will even want to try. You’re gonna need people like me out here. Who will be your hero then? No, I shouldn’t end this on such a negative note. The truth is, that we have a decent relationship. I was always in his corner, and he in mine. We loved playing together as children, back when there was no pressure on either of us. It’s only when we grew up that things really started to get hard. I started feeling the need to be the best of the best, and he started getting discouraged when one little thing didn’t work out. I don’t regret anything, though, because we’re both happy now.

Microstory 2419: Underbelly

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Not to be confused with Underburg. Believe me, you don’t want to mix them up. Nothing could be further from the idyllic, beautiful, pleasant hellscape of suburban America. I don’t understand why anyone would want to live there. I grew up in a town like that, back before the arcologies. It might look nice in old movies and TV shows, but I was miserable. Ravensgate is a real city. It’s full of violence, crime, and the champions that serve as the only protection against these terrible forces. Choose your own adventure. Are you a hero, or a villain? I know this sounds like an ad, and it is. This is the entire reason I came to this planet. My friend casted first, and wrote back with tales of his exploits. He knew that I would like the Underbelly dome. I read all the comic books, and saw all the adaptations. I know what makes for a good superhero story, and I’ve always wanted to be a part of that. It’s funny, back in the day, all these superpowers were fictional. They seemed impossible. The strength of ten men, the speed of a train; normal humans could only dream of such fantastical abilities. And then, as technology progressed, we actually started being able to make them a reality. Nanotechnology alone gives us shapeshifting, invisibility, onboard weaponry, and more. Some things are still off limits, and if you want to have those gifts, you’re gonna need to log in to a virtual world. Flight is impossible. Well, it’s not impossible, but the Superman or Homelander kind is totally off limits. It breaks the laws of physics. A lot of comics have magic, and you can’t do that stuff either. You can’t just turn someone into a frog, or something. Street level heroing is what they call it. You fight bad guys, and help the innocent. Most of them are androids, but they’re as lifelike as any, so it’s easy to forget that, and feel genuine anger towards the former, and empathy for the latter. But I should probably go back to the beginning, because you’re not assigned the powers you end up with. You choose them yourself. But you don’t get to just select from a menu, and upload into your new substrate. No, you gotta design it yourself. You choose the physical attributes of the body. Are you visibly muscular, or are you secretly superhumanly strong? What hair color, eye color, nose shape? You choose it all, and you have to work through the design program to make it look how you want. They don’t give you any ideas about what kind of powers to include either. That’s all you too. You’re only limited to the technology available in the 26th century. You also design your own backstory, which might be decades in the past, or more recent. Maybe you’re a kid who’s just discovered his powers after reaching puberty, or you fell in a vat of acid during a university science experiment. Or you don’t have powers at all, and your character had to invent everything themselves. It’s up to you, but the more complex and complicated the scenario, the longer it’s going to take before you can get out there. I could write a book on this, but you really just have to come try it. You don’t even have to be a hero or villain. You can just be a regular person, trying to survive in the metropolis. Again, this is all you. Right now, it’s just Northwest Ravensgate and Southeast Ravensgate, separated by a river, but they’ve left the nearby domes unused in case this gets to be so popular that it has to expand into new cities. There’s a reason the dome and city aren’t named the same thing. We could really build something here. It may not be real, per se, but if you open your mind, it can be just as exciting as anything else in base reality. This only gets better with more visitors. We can’t do it without ya.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: August 21, 2398

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Ever since Arcadia bailed on Team Matic, Alyssa has been working as the receptionist at Angela and Kivi’s company. It’s been pretty easy. As a startup, they don’t have a lot of calls and foot traffic. She’s getting paid for the work, which seems quite weird seeing as her and her family’s room and board are also being provided by these people. They have given them so much, and now it’s time to ask them for one more thing. She needs to have a conversation with the man trapped in her sister’s body, but she has to ask permission. The security guards will let her watch him through a one-way mirror, but there is to be no direct contact without authorization, and only a member of the core group can make such a decision. She’s also going to need the day off.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Kivi asks. “You remember, Trina isn’t in there, right?”

“I know,” Alyssa says. “She’s in the past with your other friends. I just...I wanna know who he is.”

“I can’t help you with that, but the others could.”

“I’ve heard enough second hand. I want to speak with him.”

“I understand. It’s all right by me for you to take off, but I have to stay here to fill in, so someone else will have to accompany you. Mateo is up in the air, Leona is halfway across the country, and Marie is...preoccupied. I think Ramses is your only choice.”

“I’ll talk with him. Thank you.”

“Okay.”

Alyssa climbs the steps to the lab, and badges herself in. Ramses is there, like he always is. He has his own unit upstairs, but there’s a cot next to his desk, and he’s clearly been sleeping here. She feels bad. He’s so obsessed with figuring out how the Insulator of Life and Livewire work that he can’t make any time for himself. Perhaps driving her to the black site is as close to a break as he’ll be willing to take, especially if she’s the one asking. He would probably kill for her if she asked. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

“What?” He was engrossed in his work. “Oh, yes, of course. Anything.”

“I need you to take me to the black site. I would like to meet Erlendr Preston.”

Ramses frowns. “Oh. I’m not sure that I should do that.”

It would be morally right for her to plead her case, and convince him through reason, and emotional understanding. She doesn’t have time for that, so she pulls out her trump card. “I’m sure that you should.”

He frowns for a few more seconds, but then his expression changes. “Wait, that’s perfect. Yes, that could work. He hates all of us, but if you talk to him, you may be able to get him to do what we need.”

“What do we need?” Alyssa asks.

“More data.”

“Okay. What kind of data?”

“Let me explain.” Ramses goes over what they would be asking Erlendr to do for them, and together they strategize how to get him to go along with it. He shouldn’t have any real problem with it in general, as long as they leave out one particular detail. They just have to hope that it’s not something he already knows about.

The guard lets them in, and escorts them to the observation room. The mentally unstable man in Alt!Mateo’s body is fidgeting with one of his flashlights. He’s fixated on the damn things, so the government agreed to supply him with dozens of all different kinds. He just keeps switching them on and off, and rearranging them around his cell. Alyssa thinks that they should get him professional help, but that’s not really her call. It’s also not what she’s about today. She’s here for Erlendr.

“You don’t need to rush this,” Ramses advises her.

“I’m ready. You can open the door.”

The guard opens it, but Ramses steps through first. Erlendr smirks, and doesn’t put the novel he’s reading down. He’s obsessed with books, instead of flashlights. He realizes that they’re in an entirely new reality to him, full of culture that he doesn’t know anything about. He’s got a lot of catching up to do. He changes when Alyssa follows. He sets the book down gently, and regards her with an empathetic face; the kind that Trina hasn’t gotten old enough to need to use yet. He seems to be gathering who Alyssa is, or at least that she’s not just some random interrogator. He waits patiently.

“We’ve not formally met. My name is Alyssa McIver, and you’re in my sister, Trina’s body.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Erlendr replies.

“I’m sorry to hear that you’re not a very good person.”

“In real life, villains don’t think of themselves as villains. We’re the heroes of our own stories, and in my story, everyone agrees with me.”

“You’re story is not factual,” Alyssa argues.

“No one’s is,” he counters.

“I didn’t come here for philosophy class,” Alyssa begins. “I’ve decided that I’m no longer okay with you being in the body of my baby sister.”

“I was never okay with it,” Erlendr explains. “I want you to understand—in case Leona and her friends have not made it clear—I did not choose to end up in here. The Insulator of Life is difficult to control.”

“I get that,” Alyssa says, “which is why I don’t blame you. I can’t even blame you for all the horrible things you did in your reality, because I wasn’t there to witness them. I can only go on what others tell me. The truth is that I’ve not known them much longer than you. Fate put us together, much like you and my sister. I can change my circumstances by leaving them, but I can’t do it without her, which is why I need you to change your circumstances first.”

“Would if I could,” Erlendr claims.

“You can,” Ramses declares. He takes the Insulator out of his bag.

“I told you that it can’t be controlled, not even by me. What makes you think you could do any better?”

“You wield magicks. I use science. That’s the problem with you choosing ones, you can live so easily without technology, you don’t know how things work.”

“I know a lot more than you might think, young one,” Erlendr condescends.

Ramses sets the Insulator down, and takes out the Livewire. “I want to transfer your consciousness to another body, but with such low technology, these are the only tools I have at my disposal, plus only one alternative substrate. You’ll look like Leona, which may not be ideal, but for my part, it’s better than where you are now.”

“I’ll do it,” Erlendr agrees with no argument.

“Now, if it works, you may think you’ll be able to exploit your new position, but—”

“I said I’ll do it,” Erlendr repeats. “You’re right, anything is better than this. And Miss McIver’s right, I’ve done a lot of bad things, but I don’t hurt kids. So get on with it.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: May 22, 2398

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Word spread throughout the resort that a military officer had arrived, placing Mateo in an awkward position. Now when he walks into a room, people applaud his valor, unaware that it was stolen. They’re not sure how the resort found out that he had military credentials, because he certainly didn’t advertise it when they requested a room, but it doesn’t matter now. The imaginary cat is out of the bag, and of course, being imaginary, it’s much more difficult to put it back in. The honeymooners are determined to stay out of the spotlight, which means signing up for activities on the other side of the island. They just hope the fake news hasn’t somehow circulated beyond the grounds.

“Why is this such a big deal? I mean, I know it can be a big deal, but they don’t know anything about me. They don’t know what I supposedly did.”

“It’s your rank,” Leona explains, still looking at the computer. “Dominus is a fairly high title. You’re theoretically responsible for about two thousand people.”

“Jesus. Why did that forger do that? I just thought we might need to steal some weapons from a military base. I don’t need to have this huge, complicated backstory.”

Leona spins her chair around. “You know why she did that. She probably thought she was doing you a favor, making you look like a big hero.”

“Am I a hero?” Mateo questions.

“Looks like it. Your specific exploits are as classified as you would expect, but you have a few pretty major medals.”

“Two thousand people,” he echoes. “If even one of them comes forward...”

Leona turns back at the screen. “It doesn’t say which regiment you ran. But yeah, people here might expect you to tell them. I’m surprised, but glad, that no one has yet.” She shakes her head, trying to figure out how they’re going to get out of this. “Look, people like you’re pretending to be are often expected to look and act a certain way. That can cause us problems, but it can also work out in our favor. You can be the strong, silent type. Say few words. Don’t react too strongly to stimuli.”

“I shouldn’t pretend to be triggered by PTSD?”

“Absolutely not, Mateo, that would make it worse. You’re already far over the line. Just don’t give people any opportunity to ask too many questions. Now here’s the hard part; it’s really hot, but I can’t seem to find any evidence one way or another for what kind of tattoos you’re expected to bear. You’re going to have to cover up, just in case a savvy person walks by and wonders why you don’t have your district emblem on your shoulder, or whatever it may be.”

“Maybe we should just go.”

“That would make things worse too,” Leona warns. “Then people will wonder why you only stayed one night, and maybe they mention it on social media...”

“They could say something on social media now!”

“You’re right, which is why I’m calling Ramses, and asking him to make a visit to that forger. She put you in this mess, and she’s going to get you out of it, by whatever means necessary. If that means forging more documentation, or scrubbing the internet of your presence, then so be it. We’re going to have fun on this vacation, fraud or not.”

“Okay. In that case, which do you want to do first; snorkeling, or ziplining?”

“Neither. I’ve always wanted to go horseback riding.”

Microstory 1842: A Human Being Dies

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I used to wish I were a hero. When I was a very young girl, my grandfather took me to the town square. When I say he took me, I mean he stopped by the butcher shop, and let me run off on my own to throw a coin in the fountain. That was pretty normal back then, letting a child go somewhere alone. They knew about bad guys with bad ideas, but it just hadn’t happened often enough to warrant constant monitoring. Have you seen the kids with actual leashes? I mean, there’s being protective, and then there’s whatever that is. I guess I don’t really know their situation. Those kids could have developmental issues that make it impossible to teach them to stay close. Anyway, there I was at the fountain. I remember feeling like there were a lot of people going about their business, or enjoying the park, but when I think back to that day, I think I was completely alone. I must have been, right? Otherwise, someone would have helped me. I threw the coin in the water, closed my eyes, and wished to be a superhero. Thinking that not only would it work, but that it would work immediately, I turned around and began to run. I didn’t even get the chance to jump up and try to fly. I tripped on something pretty quickly, and slammed my face against the cement. I could feel the blood all over me, and the most excruciating pain I ever experienced—before then, and until today. I lay there like that for a moment before flipping over, and getting to my back, which provided just a little bit of relief. I looked up and watched the birds flying overhead, completely oblivious to the fact that a human was in mortal danger down here, and not even trying to teach me how to do what they do. I don’t know how long I was there before my grandfather ran over and scooped me up. “Don’t tell your mother,” he said to me. “We’ll get you cleaned up, and you’ll be okay.” I was indeed okay. But I was changed. I no longer hoped to be any kind of hero. Fact: heroes don’t fall on their faces. Even if they do, they always get up on their own.

That was decades ago, and now I kind of look at it as my origin story. That’s just another delusion, though, and I know that. I’m no hero, I’m just a regular person who saw people in trouble, and felt compelled to help. People do that, and that’s a lesson I learned over the years, though I wasn’t exactly conscious of it; I’m just realizing it in my final moments. Heroes don’t really exist, and they don’t need to. If you see a man get hit by a car while you’re walking to work, you stop and call for emergency services. Our species is ruthless, but we’re also compassionate and cooperative. We would not have survived this long without the instinct to help others. I didn’t think very hard when I saw the bricks fly out of the building they once formed like water from the tap. I didn’t know what it was, and still don’t; perhaps a missile of some kind. The war is supposed to be over, but some just can’t let go. It doesn’t matter why it started falling apart, just that there were innocent lives at stake, and I happened to be walking by. I ran in, and ran up the stairs. I started going through every room, clearing everyone out, and searching for anyone incapable of escaping on their own. I wasn’t the only one, I can tell you that. I saw a few others from the street who had the same idea, and I bet there were more. Fathers escorted sons through windows. Neighbors lifted debris off of neighbors. Everyone who could help was helping. Because that is what we do. When one of us hurts, we’re all worse off for it. No, I don’t die here under this rubble as a hero. I die as a human being capable of empathy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Microstory 1698: Benedict’s Purpose

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Benedict Stewart was an odd duck, and though no one would argue he was the best person in the world, he wasn’t evil. He was a high school science teacher, who was forced to leave for engaging in an inappropriate sexual relationship. She was not one of his students, but she was pretty young, and his behavior reflected poorly on the school. She was a college student, who was there as a pre-service teacher, so she could gather enough supervised experience to become a certified instructor once her own schooling was complete. As her supervisor, he was considered to be in a position of power, even though he assured the district that he did not take it into account when evaluating her performance. The student teacher stuck up for him, and declared it to be a fully consensual relationship, which probably prevented the situation from becoming a news story, and also kept him from being fired. He would have been free to apply for work elsewhere, and while no job was guaranteed, he likely would have eventually found some place fitting. Instead, he chose to work at the soda bottling plant on the edge of town. It wasn’t as rewarding, and it was below his education and experience, but it was a decent living. His girlfriend, meanwhile, stayed with him for years, eventually becoming his wife. A week after the wedding, she was the victim of a drunk driver, and ended up in a coma. Benedict was distraught, and could no longer function. He became careless in his duties, and his boss had to let him go. The money wasn’t that much of a problem, as the drunk driver was the son of a wealthy businessman, who agreed to a hefty settlement in exchange for keeping this quiet. But Benedict was still alone, and he was still sad.

His boss was a good guy, who understood how traumatic this whole experience was. He hired him in the first place, fully aware of his past transgressions. He couldn’t let him keep his job for the time being, but he intended to kind of leave it open until Benedict got the help he needed. He recommended a support group, so he could work through his grief, and find some way to move on. Benedict got a lot of help from them, but he didn’t realize until later that this support group had a bizarre secret. It turned out to be the source of recruitment for a budding superhero organization, and they wanted him on the team. Him? Really? Why? Well, he wasn’t just any ol’ chemistry teacher. He was known for creating little gadgets to illustrate scientific concepts for the kids. He helped bridge the gap between all the sciences, including physics and biology, and even other subjects, to facilitate a more well-rounded education. So the leaders of the superhero group suggested he come up with some non-lethal weapons, and use them to protect the city. It would give him purpose, and help relieve the depression, and some of the suicidal thoughts he was suffering. So that was what he did. He wore a magnetic suit that could steal guns from an aggressor, a taser, striking gloves, a sonic eardrum burster, chemical explosives, a heat ray, blinding laser lights, and a slingshot. The idea was for each weapon to demonstrate one of the ten types of energy, excluding nuclear and gravitational, because he didn’t actually have any powers, and he didn’t have genius-level intellect. As time went on, and Benedict pursued missions for his team, he shed some of the excess from his persona, and focused on the more important features. He also learned that maybe the people who recruited him had been lying about being heroes all along. And now Benedict...would have to choose a side.

Microstory 1669: Of Kindness and Cruelty

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For every Hypostate in Adverse, there was an opposing force called an Apostate. These postates—to use an unauthorized collective term—could be anyone. It was never really clear whether someone was born this way, or became so over time. Some were humans, others were demons, and a few were original Maramon. There were twenty-three of each, plus the primaries, and they represented the virtues and sins that could be found in anyone and everyone. There are two of these special people that I want to talk to you about today. The virtuous one was named Kindness. Of course, that wasn’t his original name, but once he learned what he was, and what role he played in the fight against evil, he started going by it. It was kind of expected of him, and since he was so kind, he didn’t try to stop it. Kindness was a gentle human being, who genuinely cared about people, both on a personal level, and in a general global sense. You wouldn’t know it just by looking at him, though, and maybe not even after an interaction with him. He was tall, muscular, tan; all the generic traits of a dude-bro. He liked to work out, but he did it for all the right reasons, and he didn’t look down on those who didn’t do it at all. He was tan mostly because it was his natural skin color, but also because he spent a lot of time outside, and sunscreen can only do so much. He didn’t treat people unkindly, and he never felt awkward, but he wasn’t the most outgoing individual, and people wouldn’t have ever called him fun. Remember that kindness was his virtue, not friendliness. Friendliness is someone else. Those are two distinct characteristics, and while there’s often a lot of overlap, it’s not technically necessary, especially not for a hypostate, whose every trait is exaggerated, and whose mind is usually hyperfocused towards a goal.

Kindness grew up with a boy who would come to be known as Cruelty. Cruelty was exactly as you think he would be. He was a man, still—not a demon—but he shared the demons’ compulsion for wickedness. He was clever, always making sure the chaos he caused couldn’t be directly linked to him. People didn’t know that he was essentially a manifestation of evil, but they didn’t think he was a swell guy either. They generally didn’t want to be around him. However smart or careful an apostate is, they have a hard time completely masking their sick and twisted ways. His true nature was no more apparent than when the two of them were together. Everyone believed them to be friends, and most couldn’t understand why, since they were so clearly incompatible. This was a misunderstanding that neither of them refuted. Kindness was too kind to get angry at people about it, and Cruelty enjoyed how much it bothered Kindness. They just kept running into each other throughout their lives, no matter how much Kindness tried to get away. It wasn’t a constant pairing, but the relief was never very long. They were roommates in college, co-workers at their respective second jobs, and ended up moving to the same street several years later. Cruelty claimed it was an honest coincidence, but I think we all know how unlikely that is. Kindness and Cruelty weren’t the only two postates to have known each other before The Rapture, but they were the only opposing forces to know each other, and they were the only ones to know each other so well. They obviously didn’t get along, though. Cruelty would get tired of Kindness’ incessant need to make sure everyone around him was safe and cared for. It was sometimes even enough to keep him from torturing his frenemy. They never fought each other when they were alive, but they were directly at odds once both of them died. It was up to a small group of heroes to find all the hypostates, and defeat all the apostates. They were scattered throughout the three realms, including heaven where Kindness was found, and hell, where Cruelty was unsurprisingly sent to.

Microstory 1478: Bicentennial

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The first known human to set foot on Durus was a little girl named Savitri. In 1980, she fell into some kind portal, and ended up here alone. She had to figure things out, and fend for herself for ten years before anyone else appeared. Even though the Deathfall wouldn’t happen until 2016, many believed that 1980 should be considered the dawn of man on Durus. They wanted to honor and respect Savitri, for all she had been through. Sure, technically the Bicentennial should mark the beginning of a city, or some other form of civilization, but this was their own planet, and they felt entitled to make up whatever rules they wanted. They could celebrate the start of the new Springfield later, if they even really wanted to do that at all, since life was pretty crappy back then. In the 2175 elections, people voted for the Savitri Act, and preparations were able to begin for a massive worldwide celebration, and it would indeed be massive. Their population had always been in flux, as most populations are, but in general, their numbers increased predictably. It was estimated that there would be 500,000 people living on Durus by the time 2180 ended. The celebration would mark this occasion, as well as the Bicentennial, hopefully appeasing those few who disagreed that it had been 200 years since the beginning. The party was huge, spread out across the surface, in Aljabara, and the other towns. They had rides, dinners, time power games, music, and other entertainment. They also had quiet, reflective events, mourning those they had lost, and remembering the heroes of yesterday. There was something for everyone, and everything for a precious few. A paramount with time traveling abilities offered his services to a select group of people. Many entered, but only ten people won tickets in the lottery. If you wanted to enjoy every single event that the week-long Bicentennial celebrations had available, even the ones that conflicted with each other on the schedule, you had to be one of these eleven people. The paramount took the group back in time as many times as it was necessary in order for them to participate or watch everything. For the most part, time travel was illegal on Durus. It was dangerous, and possibly paradoxical, and the government agreed that no one should change history, even the bad things that happened. But for this one time, one paramount was given the freedom to use his powers. He had to stay within the loop, however, and take all necessary precautions against messing something up with the timeline. It was a success, however, as was the Bicentennial in general, and it had people already starting to think about what they might want to do for the Tricentennial.

Microstory 1465: Deathspring Forward

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Millions, or perhaps billions, of years ago, when an ancient Durus was ejected from its star system, it started flying through interstellar space. Though it initially moved in a fairly straight line, it was consistently being impacted by gravitational perturbations from other systems. This made its journey relatively unpredictable, even if people back then could track its progress throughout the galaxy. In more recent times, the rogue world’s course was adjusted so much that started heading directly towards Sol. Some even claimed that it would one day crash into Earth, but there was no proof of that, because no one possessed the necessary data, or equipment, to study their hypotheses. One of the reasons Earth was so suitable for evolved life was the presence of the gas giants; most notably, Jupiter. It served as the inner planets’ sweeper. Any wayward celestial body that threatened to damage the less massive worlds had more of a chance of being pulled in by Jupiter before they could get there. Of course, it didn’t have every single time—in fact, Earth wouldn’t have a moon if it did—but it happened enough to protect it long enough to promote extended periods of peace. Durus threatened all of that, because no one was sure when exactly it would arrive in the system, or whether the other planets would have enough of an affect on it to keep Earth safe. It was for these reasons that the Aljabaran Republican government denied that there was any danger, even though that didn’t make any sense. While there was a strong chance that Earth would be safe, there was an even stronger chance that there was nothing to keep Durus safe. It was probably going to collide with something, be it Earth, or anything else, and even a small impact from a comet could destroy civilization. Something had to be done about this, which was where Hokusai Gimura came in. She used time technology to steer Durus through the solar system, and avoid impacts from everything in its path, including Earth. Unfortunately, in some ways, it was too little too late, because even though everyone survived, two terrestrial planets brushing up against each other had consequences.

They called it the Deathspring, modeled upon the event that brought the first major population of humans here. But it was not just a seasonal play on words. The Deathfall did happen in autumn, and the Deathspring did happen in spring, but it was more than that. Survivors of the Deathfall reported vertigo, and a feeling of falling into the portal, while the Deathspring survivors were actually flung up into the air, and onto the corresponding world. Earth and Durus exchanged people, objects, buildings, and even some lingering monsters. People with time powers or patterns seemed especially susceptible to this exchange, though no one was safe, and who it happened to proved to ultimately be rather random. Aside from this, there was a lot of other devastation. The event caused quakes on all planets involved—which was all of them, since it happened during a particular celestial event called Syzygy, where all planets were aligned—fires, and other disruptions. Still, despite some backlash from the Republicans, who were trying desperately to hold onto what power they had left, people recognized that Hokusai Gimura just saved billions of lives, including theirs. Now, any normal civilization would have worshiped her as a hero, but done nothing to change whatever system they had in place, or perhaps only done little. But Aljabara had a fixation on gender. Everything they experienced was tinted in either misogyny, or some kind inexplicable example of why women could indeed be trusted. They didn’t do much without considering the ramifications of gender. So when Hokusai, a woman, showed up, and saved two planets with her bare hands, they felt the need to change everything about their way of life. They quickly dismantled the Republic, and prepared to replace it with something else. They didn’t know exactly what that would be, but they knew it needed to be democratic, and inclusive. But first, they formed the provisional government, in order to preserve continuity, and move forward.

Microstory 1373: Scope Creep

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Reporter: Are we live? Okay, thanks. [...] Mall Security Guard, you’re here because the clock recently started counting down on your fifteen minutes of fame because of a daring rescue you executed after encountering a victim you caught shoplifting under duress. Is this an accurate summary?

Mall Security Guard: That’s right. I would say I got about five minutes left on my fame clock.

Reporter: Why would you say that?

Mall Security Guard: Well, I would say a minute, but the investigation is ongoing, so it won’t be over until that’s over.

Reporter: The investigation into the criminals you helped apprehend, or the investigation into your involvement?

Mall Security Guard: The latter. Obviously, I am a security guard...or rather, I was. I don’t have the authority to arrest people, investigate crimes, or pursue suspects. The real police are currently investigating me, and if they choose to press charges, I’ll have to go to court, and I could be facing jail time.

Reporter: Jail time, really?

Mall Security Guard: My lawyer says that’s unlikely, because no one got hurt after I became involved; not even the suspects. I did technically break the law, though, and the judge may want to make an example out of me. That’s a long ways off, though. There are still a lot of steps before we get to sentencing, if it even comes to it.

Reporter: What have you been doing in the meantime? Are you still working at the mall?

Mall Security Guard: I am indeed working at the mall, but I’m not working for the mall. I’ve been put on unpaid suspension, but janitorial services at Hillside Mall is run by a contractor. I’m holding a position with them, and still eating lunch with my old crew. Theoretically, the mall could ban me from the premises until the investigation is over, but they haven’t done that. They’re not proud of what I did, but they’re not actively working against me either.

Reporter: Has your life become harder after the incident? You got a new job, but I imagine it pays less, and it’s not what you really want to do.

Mall Security Guard: Eh, it’s okay. It doesn’t pay much less, and I can’t complain. I know a lot of people are out of work right now, so I still count myself lucky. I recognize the awkward position the executive leadership is in.

Reporter: Have there been any other negative effects because of what happened?

Mall Security Guard: Not really. I mean, the kidnappers are none too happy with me, but they don’t hold much sway on society right now. The community has been really supportive, though, so that’s not great.

Reporter: How is that not a good thing?

Mall Security Guard: Well, vigilantism is illegal. It helps that I was in a public safety position, but it hurts my case that people have been so supportive. The local government doesn’t want a bunch of costumed superheroes running around, gathering fans, and putting themselves, and others, in danger. They don’t want to encourage this behavior, so they would rather the story just kind of go away.

Reporter: I see. So what’s next for you, assuming you don’t end up going to jail? Will you go back to being a security guard?

Mall Security Guard: Oh, no doubt. If Hillside doesn’t rehire me, I’ll find someone who will, even if that means I have to move. It’s in my blood to protect people. I just have to be careful about how exactly I go about doing that. I’ve learned my lesson in that regard.

Reporter: Well, thanks for talking to us. I appreciate your time.

Mall Security Guard: No, thank you.

Microstory 1256: Elliot Channing

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Most people can probably accept that, while they’re the hero in their own story, others may not look so favorably upon their actions. Elliot Channing hated this possibility, and was on a constant quest to somehow become the hero in everyone’s story. He knew this was an absurd goal, and he wasn’t delusional, but he figured the closest he could get to achieving it would be to get himself into politics. Elliot could always see the difference between a good politician, and a bad one. He would often overreact to other people’s claims that all politicians were dirty, and could not be trusted. It was his own damn fault for getting into those arguments, as he would goad people into them by volunteering his opinion unprompted. His was an altered perspective, however, as he believed these were debates that would bolster his experience. His efforts did not prove pointless, as he was routinely elected into higher and higher office, until he really made his mark as a Missouri state senator, where he served his eight full years. By then, he had had a lot of experience in lower offices, including having been part of the House of Representatives for eight years, and he was showing no signs of stopping. Many believed he was going to be Missouri’s next Governor, but life took him in a different direction. He suddenly pulled out of the race, and permanently joined the City Frenzy committee. He never vocalized his reasons for this, but the truth was he was instructed to do this by an individual who claimed to be able to see the future. The Frenzy was a different kind of race; a literal foot race, but it was important to the Kansas City economy. And if it was important to his constituents, then it was important to him. After all this time, making sure both Kansas and Missouri were  financially and socially prosperous seemed like the most important thing to accomplish. Though he had been a lifelong civil servant, most of the electorate did not pay much attention to him until he switched tactics. The average voter only notices whether a candidate has a little D next to their name, or an R. He didn’t feel like he wanted to be part of that anymore, and also that he wasn’t doing much good. It was under his leadership that the event committee grew, and eventually took on more than the annual race. Soon, they were drawing in crowds from all over the country—and even out of the country—for all sorts of concerts, fairs, sports exhibitions, and more. It’s uncertain whether anyone would have called Channing a hero, but he was inarguably a celebrity, and he decided that this was what he truly wanted all along.