Continents sat like parts of a giant jigsaw puzzle that fit just so, as if they were always meant to sit on the great sphere that always seemed incomplete without them. Islands dotted the spaces in between as if they were pieces that had broken away and fallen into .where?
And the sphere itself was perfect. How was it made so? It was as if Creation had smoothed the edges of a rough diamond into a perfect circle and decided to adorn it with the jewels of land on a perfectly flat surface.
But none of it compared to the great hands that held it aloft. The broad back that bore the weight of its creation and all that went along with it. Strength showed in every sinew, every muscle. Strength and responsibility meshed together in one simple pose.
I remember how it looked the first time I saw it.
What did it look like?
A shining blue, reminding me of the great nebulae of Abraeus Minor. As if it was calling out, this is your home now.
And you knew they were here?
Always I know. We are never far from each other.
Two pairs of eyes, but yet one, looked across the distance at the great statue of the mighty Atlas, fallen hero of Paragon City. Everything was seemingly alive to both, symbolic and true at the same time. Blurs of color occasionally streaked the air, or along the ground flares of bright light would start from the ground and soar into the sky, sometimes with fanfare and sound, other times with the faint smell of burnt ozone carrying across the breeze. Flickers of light, teleporters no doubt, appeared here and there, some stopping at the top of the globe to pause, only to appear once more at the nearby City Hall where the flag fluttered and reminded everyone of just what Atlas had been protecting when he fell.
Does it always look so peaceful even though youve been here such a short time? the youthful voice asked.
"Always," a voice that sounded like water running over melting ice responded. It was soothing, but smooth. Old yet somehow young. I cannot remember a planet that had such life and vibrancy to it.
Was that before or after you chose me? the younger voice asked.
The person speaking the question stood, letting the gentle breeze catch the fin-split cape that he wore. He was no more than twenty, but carried himself with a demeanor that spoke far beyond his years. A young man of apparently African descent, his short brown hair, though straighter than would be usual, brushed his face. He stood up on the ledge of a building that oriented on one face towards the park that was such a beacon for capes, as so many in the city seemed to refer to them. He winced; the tight-fitting bodysuit he wore was still new to him and pinched him in places he didnt think he had. It was described to him as stealth, the style, ribbed on the abdomen and legs, padding out the gloves. Yet again he felt the flick of metal on his ear; this being the dress uniform of his designated Super Group demanded that he wear metal pauldrons whose edges brushed his unprotected face more often that he cared to count. At least the one constant, his wraparound sunglasses, stayed intact. Sure, it was a visual thing, but when he manifested .well, it had a look and he liked that.
Both, the older voice responded, using his.
Most people would find that uncomfortable, even maddening. A voice thats your own, using your tone, but added with something more than just wasn't you But he didnt mind; it felt completely natural.
Youve been to Earth before? he asked, even as the answer came to life in his mind. Images of stars and planets he didnt recognize appeared as memories to him; the Earth appeared, though it was cleaner somehow, maybe hundreds or thousands of years ago.
Yes, but you were younger then, his other voice responded, as if it were something you discussed over a cup of tea. The other voice called itself Eureka Phoenix in his mind, but his (at least it sounded like a him) real name, so he was assured, only sounded like that and that it didnt really matter so long as he was comfortable saying it.
That was the problem in being bonded to one of the Kheldian race; you could speak to any two of them and theyd give you two different stories about where they came from and they could both be accurate. Not even they seemed to know how old they were, having long ago transcended human form. The most anyone seemed to know that collectively they were called Peacebringers, enemies of their former subjugators the Nictus, and they were either policing them, or their own, or both. And for reasons really only known to them, the Kheldians would bond themselves to living hosts and the process was normally mutual. Even some Nicti had reformed, calling themselves Warshades. Eureka was starstuff, immaterial and yet solid, sentient yet ethereal, ancient and youthful all at the same time.
It annoyed the hell out of him.
You keep saying that, he said with a faintly exasperated tone.
This is true, but you are only human.
Both chuckled at that, seeing the humor and irony. Both had come a long way; Eureka came from the stars, heeding a call of one of his own to give sustenance to a living and willing host. Rugiel was his name; or at least what he chose to be called in his form, such as it was. Tom (or Tommy as his friends called him) had come by a much longer route. Hed been a host too, in a completely different body.
Not for that long, Tommy said, a laugh in his voice. Itd felt like a lifetime ago, and it had been. He still had his parents, born and raised in Faultine in the Mullins family household. He still had his studies at the Steel Canyon undergraduate university; he still had everything he remembered. But when Eureka joined him, he gained so much more. Memories of another life, as another being entirely. And to save his life, the other being made him somehow. And yet another brought his essence, his self, to this body.
Youre thinking about it again, arent you Tom?
Yeah, Tom responded. There are times .
Dont think about it too much, Eureka responded. The more you do, the more questions youll have. And the more time you spend asking them, the less answers youll see.
Is that meant to be cryptic or something?
Yes, but I am very clever.
Excuse me, young hero. Am I interrupting?
The voice sounded like it had been carved out of granite.
No, I was just speaking to oh.
The voice matched the person, the personality. Did legends even have a personality?
The cape was probably the thing most people associated with the man; the long flowing red that defined most of his iconic costume. It showed up in his simple boots and gloves, the strip of color running head to toe along his bodysuit, flanked by borders of blue and only broken by the black belt around his waist. White stars were emblazoned on those borders up to his hips, and one large one was stamped on his broad chest. And finally, the was the iconic faceplate, like some ancient warriors. There was only one person this could be.
Statesman, the hero of Paragon City for the last eighty years.
Oh no sir, Tom responded. Hed heard so much about this living legend, both good and bad. The good ranged from respect to outright admiration for the countless times hed saved the city, his actions during the Rikti invasion. The bad ranged from his almost absolute rule over his legendary team, the Freedom Phalanx, to his being a tyrant. But he here he was, and his blue piercing eyes as he floated before him, arms crossed over that famous star, and he was speaking to him. Eureka was merely curious.
Greetings, hero of Paragon. I am honored to meet you, he said even as Tom felt his vocal chords being hijacked.
Hero of Paragon? Hes not some newcomer, you know
Statesman smiled, but it was out of politeness, not some sense of familiarity or even respect. Tom felt a chill run his spines length even as the man inclined his head towards him.
And its an honor to meet another Peacebringer into m our city, he responded in that same hard-yet-soft voice. I was wondering if you were busy right now. Im investigating a recent flare of attacks by some Hellions in Galaxy City.
Tom felt himself frowning behind his sunglasses. Hellions were small-time gangers. Why would Statesman be interested in them?
Of course, sir, he found himself replying. Hed been cleared for action against them weeks ago now, and Galaxy City was considered safe for well, everyone. Can I , he began to ask, but the blur of red, white and blue was already heading to the train, the only safe way to get around in the city aside from the massive gates to each of the safe zones, as they were called.
They must feel like caged animals, Eureka wondered even as they shifted form; the weightless squid-like form flew quickly enough to keep up, or so they thought. By the time they glided past the occasional surprised person, the departing form of Statesman, being given a wide berth by the carriage of people was already appearing distant.
Just great, Tom murmured.
Galaxy City was the model of what the larger Paragon was meant to be; clean, well maintained, a safe place for the ordinary citizens of the city to live. But it never entirely stayed in the mold; people were still mugged on the street, despite the presence of the Phalanxs own headquarters and one of its members being permanently stationed there. Despite the patrols of Longbow. The first thing Tom heard as the doors opened was his communicator rumbling with Statesmans voice.
Nebula District, his voice said in clipped tones before the signal went dead.
Sonuva can we ? he began to ask even as they shifted form again; Tom hadnt gotten around to asking why there was even a huge, armored form known only as Dwarf, but it felt the same. The major advantage was the ability to teleport. The thought occurred to him as the train platform disappeared and the warehouses of the district came into focus that appearing in the midst of your enemies was a useful trait to have.
Focus,Eureka reminded him. Were here. And hes already begun.
Tom felt his eyes widen, even as they hit the ground running. Part of him thought it was useless to even to do so, even as the body of a Hellion flew directly across his path, shattering a crate to his left. And the one behind that. And then the chain link fence. Already there was a large cluster of bodies, either unconscious or barely so spread around the whirling blur of color that was the citys premiere hero. Flashes of his trademarked lightning flashed occasionally as the blur took solid form.
Inside! NOW! Statesman roared. It was enough to make both Eureka and Tom pause, the voice that some people said could break bones directed at them with a fury neither had associated with this man, literally the paragon of Paragon City.
What are we even doing here ? Tom asked, the red and blue blur moving ahead of them as the entered through the shattered doorway. What was left of this warehouse was being torn apart in a frenzy.
Im not sure, Tom. But hes angry. So angry. Perhaps
They were cut off by warehousing container smashing through a wall just in front of them, Eurekas natural instinct to become intangible saving them as it collapsed like thin card against the far wall to their left.
This is crazy .Statesman! Whats going ON? Tom found himself demanding as they floated through the tear in the wall, the imposing caped figure just before them with shoulders hunched and head lowered. It seemed to them both that his face turned slightly at the sound.
You can detect unique energy signatures. What I was looking for isnt here, came the abrupt answer, followed instantly by the rush of wind as Statesman exploded from the ground and through the roof of the warehouse.
"No way. No way," Tom growled. Were going after him.
My thoughts exactly.
A form made of something almost like light, is what they called it. Noone quite knew how Kheldians could be made of particles of light, but it was enough that Tom felt like he was part of the air as they rushed upwards, heading past and in front of the blur that was Statesman. It wasnt until he felt his skin again that he realized how cold it was up here.
" Statesman! You had no reason to abuse us like that!", he felt Eureka say with an authority that spoke so much on his shared self. He saw the glow coming from his body and the blur solidify to Statesmans form.
I dont have to explain myself to you .
"Yes you do," Eureka countered, cutting him off. "You are Statesman; you are held to a standard to which the rest of us aspire yes, even we Kheldians, for you are someone who has led their people to a resistance of the Rikti, where so many races could not. So many planets. You are an inspiration. You are who you are."
The steel-colored eyes behind the burnished faceplate narrowed a moment, the gauntleted arms folding across the broad chest. Tom felt his heart hammering in his chest. He couldnt hear Eureka anymore.
Its my fault.
Tom hadnt said that. He had to blink, compose himself.
Statesman had said that. It didnt sound possible, real, coming from his mouth.
Ive been in this city for so long, the deep voice coming from his mouth continued, though it sounded old. Older than hed realized. And it was tired. And theyre still here, those punks. The gangs. No matter how many heroes, no matter how many police theyre still here, all over. The eyes lowered, the voice became softer.
They stole something. Part of a cure, they said. For the Lost. After all this time I didnt think it was possible. They were moving now, barely touching the roof of an overpass into Skyway City, the unofficial home of the Lost. And just as theyd begun, they stopped. The voice became a whisper. The Lost were there, wandering the streets in an aimless rhythmic pattern. Whatever was there seemed forgotten. Their name was truer than anyone wanted to admit.
Im sorry. Im so sorry, Statesman whispered.
Tom felt his heart sink in his chest. He sounded like an old man.
You said I stopped the Rikti. I didnt stop this. I didnt stop the Hellions. Or the Skulls. I couldnt save them, he trailed off finally.
The silence hung between them a long moment.
Youre not alone, Tom said, finding his own voice. I mean we can save them. Maybe not all of them .but as many as we can. Back in the war, people gave their lives for everyone here, even the Skulls, the Hellions.
So many, Statesman echoed. Friends . There was more to that word, he didnt say it.
We do it for them.
For what they wanted. What they fought for.
Yeah. For them.
Tom didnt have anymore to say. How many friends, how many family and friends had Statesman lost since the 1930s? Longer? Had anyone even asked him? Did anyone think to? Here he was, the avatar of Zeus, a god amongst gods. Alone.
Thank you, he heard Statesmans voice distantly. He hadnt heard him flying away, but the anger had gone, replaced by something he thought was a mixture of hope and loss. What a thing to have. By the time he turned to look, Statesman was just a red speck in the sky, already too far away to reply to. Did you ever feel like that? he found himself asking Eureka.
Sometimes, he felt the voice reply. But we do not have a world of our own anymore. We have our hosts, our lives. He he has both yet neither. I grieve for him.
Both yet neither. A world changed beyond what he knew, and a life as .what? A paragon? As Statesman? Is that what being who he was meant? To be so close to people but so far away?
We should get going, Tom heard himself say softly.
Yes, we should.
Tell me again how Earth looked the first time you saw it ..
The earth never looked so peaceful.
Continents sat like parts of a giant jigsaw puzzle that fit just so, as if they were always meant to sit on the great sphere that always seemed incomplete without them. Islands dotted the spaces in between as if they were pieces that had broken away and fallen into .where?
And the sphere itself was perfect. How was it made so? It was as if Creation had smoothed the edges of a rough diamond into a perfect circle and decided to adorn it with the jewels of land on a perfectly flat surface.
But none of it compared to the great hands that held it aloft. The broad back that bore the weight of its creation and all that went along with it. Strength showed in every sinew, every muscle. Strength and responsibility meshed together in one simple pose.
I remember how it looked the first time I saw it.
What did it look like?
A shining blue, reminding me of the great nebulae of Abraeus Minor. As if it was calling out, this is your home now.
And you knew they were here?
Always I know. We are never far from each other.
Two pairs of eyes, but yet one, looked across the distance at the great statue of the mighty Atlas, fallen hero of Paragon City. Everything was seemingly alive to both, symbolic and true at the same time. Blurs of color occasionally streaked the air, or along the ground flares of bright light would start from the ground and soar into the sky, sometimes with fanfare and sound, other times with the faint smell of burnt ozone carrying across the breeze. Flickers of light, teleporters no doubt, appeared here and there, some stopping at the top of the globe to pause, only to appear once more at the nearby City Hall where the flag fluttered and reminded everyone of just what Atlas had been protecting when he fell.
Does it always look so peaceful even though youve been here such a short time? the youthful voice asked.
"Always," a voice that sounded like water running over melting ice responded. It was soothing, but smooth. Old yet somehow young. I cannot remember a planet that had such life and vibrancy to it.
Was that before or after you chose me? the younger voice asked.
The person speaking the question stood, letting the gentle breeze catch the fin-split cape that he wore. He was no more than twenty, but carried himself with a demeanor that spoke far beyond his years. A young man of apparently African descent, his short brown hair, though straighter than would be usual, brushed his face. He stood up on the ledge of a building that oriented on one face towards the park that was such a beacon for capes, as so many in the city seemed to refer to them. He winced; the tight-fitting bodysuit he wore was still new to him and pinched him in places he didnt think he had. It was described to him as stealth, the style, ribbed on the abdomen and legs, padding out the gloves. Yet again he felt the flick of metal on his ear; this being the dress uniform of his designated Super Group demanded that he wear metal pauldrons whose edges brushed his unprotected face more often that he cared to count. At least the one constant, his wraparound sunglasses, stayed intact. Sure, it was a visual thing, but when he manifested .well, it had a look and he liked that.
Both, the older voice responded, using his.
Most people would find that uncomfortable, even maddening. A voice thats your own, using your tone, but added with something more than just wasn't you But he didnt mind; it felt completely natural.
Youve been to Earth before? he asked, even as the answer came to life in his mind. Images of stars and planets he didnt recognize appeared as memories to him; the Earth appeared, though it was cleaner somehow, maybe hundreds or thousands of years ago.
Yes, but you were younger then, his other voice responded, as if it were something you discussed over a cup of tea. The other voice called itself Eureka Phoenix in his mind, but his (at least it sounded like a him) real name, so he was assured, only sounded like that and that it didnt really matter so long as he was comfortable saying it.
That was the problem in being bonded to one of the Kheldian race; you could speak to any two of them and theyd give you two different stories about where they came from and they could both be accurate. Not even they seemed to know how old they were, having long ago transcended human form. The most anyone seemed to know that collectively they were called Peacebringers, enemies of their former subjugators the Nictus, and they were either policing them, or their own, or both. And for reasons really only known to them, the Kheldians would bond themselves to living hosts and the process was normally mutual. Even some Nicti had reformed, calling themselves Warshades. Eureka was starstuff, immaterial and yet solid, sentient yet ethereal, ancient and youthful all at the same time.
It annoyed the hell out of him.
You keep saying that, he said with a faintly exasperated tone.
This is true, but you are only human.
Both chuckled at that, seeing the humor and irony. Both had come a long way; Eureka came from the stars, heeding a call of one of his own to give sustenance to a living and willing host. Rugiel was his name; or at least what he chose to be called in his form, such as it was. Tom (or Tommy as his friends called him) had come by a much longer route. Hed been a host too, in a completely different body.
Not for that long, Tommy said, a laugh in his voice. Itd felt like a lifetime ago, and it had been. He still had his parents, born and raised in Faultine in the Mullins family household. He still had his studies at the Steel Canyon undergraduate university; he still had everything he remembered. But when Eureka joined him, he gained so much more. Memories of another life, as another being entirely. And to save his life, the other being made him somehow. And yet another brought his essence, his self, to this body.
Youre thinking about it again, arent you Tom?
Yeah, Tom responded. There are times .
Dont think about it too much, Eureka responded. The more you do, the more questions youll have. And the more time you spend asking them, the less answers youll see.
Is that meant to be cryptic or something?
Yes, but I am very clever.
Excuse me, young hero. Am I interrupting?
The voice sounded like it had been carved out of granite.
No, I was just speaking to oh.
The voice matched the person, the personality. Did legends even have a personality?
The cape was probably the thing most people associated with the man; the long flowing red that defined most of his iconic costume. It showed up in his simple boots and gloves, the strip of color running head to toe along his bodysuit, flanked by borders of blue and only broken by the black belt around his waist. White stars were emblazoned on those borders up to his hips, and one large one was stamped on his broad chest. And finally, the was the iconic faceplate, like some ancient warriors. There was only one person this could be.
Statesman, the hero of Paragon City for the last eighty years.
Oh no sir, Tom responded. Hed heard so much about this living legend, both good and bad. The good ranged from respect to outright admiration for the countless times hed saved the city, his actions during the Rikti invasion. The bad ranged from his almost absolute rule over his legendary team, the Freedom Phalanx, to his being a tyrant. But he here he was, and his blue piercing eyes as he floated before him, arms crossed over that famous star, and he was speaking to him. Eureka was merely curious.
Greetings, hero of Paragon. I am honored to meet you, he said even as Tom felt his vocal chords being hijacked.
Hero of Paragon? Hes not some newcomer, you know
Statesman smiled, but it was out of politeness, not some sense of familiarity or even respect. Tom felt a chill run his spines length even as the man inclined his head towards him.
And its an honor to meet another Peacebringer into m our city, he responded in that same hard-yet-soft voice. I was wondering if you were busy right now. Im investigating a recent flare of attacks by some Hellions in Galaxy City.
Tom felt himself frowning behind his sunglasses. Hellions were small-time gangers. Why would Statesman be interested in them?
Of course, sir, he found himself replying. Hed been cleared for action against them weeks ago now, and Galaxy City was considered safe for well, everyone. Can I , he began to ask, but the blur of red, white and blue was already heading to the train, the only safe way to get around in the city aside from the massive gates to each of the safe zones, as they were called.
They must feel like caged animals, Eureka wondered even as they shifted form; the weightless squid-like form flew quickly enough to keep up, or so they thought. By the time they glided past the occasional surprised person, the departing form of Statesman, being given a wide berth by the carriage of people was already appearing distant.
Just great, Tom murmured.
Galaxy City was the model of what the larger Paragon was meant to be; clean, well maintained, a safe place for the ordinary citizens of the city to live. But it never entirely stayed in the mold; people were still mugged on the street, despite the presence of the Phalanxs own headquarters and one of its members being permanently stationed there. Despite the patrols of Longbow. The first thing Tom heard as the doors opened was his communicator rumbling with Statesmans voice.
Nebula District, his voice said in clipped tones before the signal went dead.
Sonuva can we ? he began to ask even as they shifted form again; Tom hadnt gotten around to asking why there was even a huge, armored form known only as Dwarf, but it felt the same. The major advantage was the ability to teleport. The thought occurred to him as the train platform disappeared and the warehouses of the district came into focus that appearing in the midst of your enemies was a useful trait to have.
Focus,Eureka reminded him. Were here. And hes already begun.
Tom felt his eyes widen, even as they hit the ground running. Part of him thought it was useless to even to do so, even as the body of a Hellion flew directly across his path, shattering a crate to his left. And the one behind that. And then the chain link fence. Already there was a large cluster of bodies, either unconscious or barely so spread around the whirling blur of color that was the citys premiere hero. Flashes of his trademarked lightning flashed occasionally as the blur took solid form.
Inside! NOW! Statesman roared. It was enough to make both Eureka and Tom pause, the voice that some people said could break bones directed at them with a fury neither had associated with this man, literally the paragon of Paragon City.
What are we even doing here ? Tom asked, the red and blue blur moving ahead of them as the entered through the shattered doorway. What was left of this warehouse was being torn apart in a frenzy.
Im not sure, Tom. But hes angry. So angry. Perhaps
They were cut off by warehousing container smashing through a wall just in front of them, Eurekas natural instinct to become intangible saving them as it collapsed like thin card against the far wall to their left.
This is crazy .Statesman! Whats going ON? Tom found himself demanding as they floated through the tear in the wall, the imposing caped figure just before them with shoulders hunched and head lowered. It seemed to them both that his face turned slightly at the sound.
You can detect unique energy signatures. What I was looking for isnt here, came the abrupt answer, followed instantly by the rush of wind as Statesman exploded from the ground and through the roof of the warehouse.
"No way. No way," Tom growled. Were going after him.
My thoughts exactly.
A form made of something almost like light, is what they called it. Noone quite knew how Kheldians could be made of particles of light, but it was enough that Tom felt like he was part of the air as they rushed upwards, heading past and in front of the blur that was Statesman. It wasnt until he felt his skin again that he realized how cold it was up here.
" Statesman! You had no reason to abuse us like that!", he felt Eureka say with an authority that spoke so much on his shared self. He saw the glow coming from his body and the blur solidify to Statesmans form.
I dont have to explain myself to you .
"Yes you do," Eureka countered, cutting him off. "You are Statesman; you are held to a standard to which the rest of us aspire yes, even we Kheldians, for you are someone who has led their people to a resistance of the Rikti, where so many races could not. So many planets. You are an inspiration. You are who you are."
The steel-colored eyes behind the burnished faceplate narrowed a moment, the gauntleted arms folding across the broad chest. Tom felt his heart hammering in his chest. He couldnt hear Eureka anymore.
Its my fault.
Tom hadnt said that. He had to blink, compose himself.
Statesman had said that. It didnt sound possible, real, coming from his mouth.
Ive been in this city for so long, the deep voice coming from his mouth continued, though it sounded old. Older than hed realized. And it was tired. And theyre still here, those punks. The gangs. No matter how many heroes, no matter how many police theyre still here, all over. The eyes lowered, the voice became softer.
They stole something. Part of a cure, they said. For the Lost. After all this time I didnt think it was possible. They were moving now, barely touching the roof of an overpass into Skyway City, the unofficial home of the Lost. And just as theyd begun, they stopped. The voice became a whisper. The Lost were there, wandering the streets in an aimless rhythmic pattern. Whatever was there seemed forgotten. Their name was truer than anyone wanted to admit.
Im sorry. Im so sorry, Statesman whispered.
Tom felt his heart sink in his chest. He sounded like an old man.
You said I stopped the Rikti. I didnt stop this. I didnt stop the Hellions. Or the Skulls. I couldnt save them, he trailed off finally.
The silence hung between them a long moment.
Youre not alone, Tom said, finding his own voice. I mean we can save them. Maybe not all of them .but as many as we can. Back in the war, people gave their lives for everyone here, even the Skulls, the Hellions.
So many, Statesman echoed. Friends . There was more to that word, he didnt say it.
We do it for them.
For what they wanted. What they fought for.
Yeah. For them.
Tom didnt have anymore to say. How many friends, how many family and friends had Statesman lost since the 1930s? Longer? Had anyone even asked him? Did anyone think to? Here he was, the avatar of Zeus, a god amongst gods. Alone.
Thank you, he heard Statesmans voice distantly. He hadnt heard him flying away, but the anger had gone, replaced by something he thought was a mixture of hope and loss. What a thing to have. By the time he turned to look, Statesman was just a red speck in the sky, already too far away to reply to. Did you ever feel like that? he found himself asking Eureka.
Sometimes, he felt the voice reply. But we do not have a world of our own anymore. We have our hosts, our lives. He he has both yet neither. I grieve for him.
Both yet neither. A world changed beyond what he knew, and a life as .what? A paragon? As Statesman? Is that what being who he was meant? To be so close to people but so far away?
We should get going, Tom heard himself say softly.
Yes, we should.
Tell me again how Earth looked the first time you saw it ..
Part of Sister Flame's Clickey-Clack Posse