My cold, dead leg continued to trickle slowly as I was bleeding out. Gang members were stalking down the hall towards me, faster as they heard the noise of Stumblebum's fight.

My heart was beating harder now, signaling that my blood pressure was becoming critical. Carrion was on my mind, his image so vivid that I could practically see him in the dark. He looked like chunks of pork scabbed over and drenched in sick. The noises he made still echoed in my head. The way he strung out his words through chittering clicks and moans... it was by far the scariest thing I had yet encountered.

Since I could think of nothing else but that consuming fear, I decided to use it to my advantage.

My power wasn’t strong enough to blast our way out of this. The bluff I used had to be strong, then. If I could imagine a sound, in theory I could project it just the same as I did my normal voice. It did not come automatically to me, but with what little power I had left, it was the only thing I knew to try.

Pitching myself in Carrion's guttural tongue, I spoke directly to the auditory nerve of the two armed men coming down the hall, making it sound to them as if it was coming from up ahead. "Are you here to feed me?" I asked them.

With how little I knew about the villain's actual behavior amongst his comrades, I opted to say the thing I myself would least want to have heard, and it worked like a charm.

I observed the shift in their auras, but stronger in one than the other. The taller of the two men stopped his partner and stayed collected. Pins and needles rushed over their bodies as the sensation of fear set in as far as it could.

"Wait," he said.

They were close enough that I could hear their whispers. Close enough that, were either of them to turn on a flashlight, I would be as good as dead. My ability to make others ignore me was easily penetrated by close attention, as I would have here.

The shorter man responded. "What the hell is that?"

"It's Carrion. Just... let me handle this."

With perfect timing, Stumblebum brought his fight to a close. A body could be heard smacking the ground as the rogue whipped his enemy's neck to its breaking point, and all grew quiet. For the men ahead I added some sounds to the mix; those of a deep, thrumming breath, as if from an enormous mass. I followed this with a wet crunching. "You're not needed here," I said.

Yet, this wasn't enough to send them running. The tall man composed himself and spoke. "You're not supposed to be here, Carrion. You're supposed to be collecting the hostages at the Heroes' Operational Building. That was the fucking plan."

He has some balls on him to be talking back right now, I thought. Something about this dynamic is wrong.

Still, I had to keep the dialogue going, even on the brink of passing out. "I go where I please. Liberosis' plan was not working, and I was hungry."

"You follow the fucking plan!" He repeated himself. "That was your order from the boss, unless you forgot."

"Rathole is a cretin. He may have killed Riotous and put the others in line, but not me. I am not his pet." I followed the sense of superiority I observed during my encounter with Carrion, and I tried to splice in the information we had gathered from Passthrough. Whatever it took to sell the lie.

But there was something big that I was missing. I knew that as the silence drug on. The man ahead was confused. Though his friend was only growing more anxious, he grew more emboldened. "I didn't say Rathole, I said the boss. Everyone has to play their part. If the investigators get even one fucking whiff when this is all over that something else was going on, then you’ll pay for it."

Oh, God, I thought. Passthrough hadn't been lying. He had been ignorant. Whatever deeper motive these two men and Carrion shared, he hadn't been in in the loop. There was more to this setup than we knew. Behind the scenes of Rathole's idiotic play for territory, something else was happening.

Just then, Stumblebum reached my side. He laid a hand on my arm, strengthening our connection, and spoke his thoughts to be heard aloud. He had figured out my play as he approached, and he had only to confirm my suspicions as it began to fail.

"These aren't the regular gang members," he told me. "They're decked out in tactical gear. Serious mercenary shit. That one back there nearly took me down and that isn't supposed to happen, alright? Whatever you're doing, get rid of them."

I had to get back into the flow of the conversation fast. I couldn't afford to stay distracted, even for this vital information. Though improv was never my strong suit, I was able to fight my way through the mental blank I was drawing. "Your friend is quite tasty," I said, putting the ball back in their court. It was awkward, but it worked.

"Son of a bitch!" The shorter mercenary broke out of his paralyzing fear to shout me down. "He's going to hear about this, Carrion! There's nowhere you can hide from him. You got that?!"

Neither of them dared to turn on their flashlights, even now. They were right on the edge of calling my bluff. I could see the doubt that was beginning to form inside them, but self-preservation, the urge to play it safe, that was our saving grace, and they were slowly backing up despite themselves.

The mere chance of a fight with Carrion was enough to curdle their blood.

"I think I'll take my chances," I said. "Now, begone, before I put you in my flesh reserves." That threat was the icing on the cake.

"You could have had everything you wanted Carrion, but you chose to die for nothing. That's fine, but don't come crying to us for power when the whole world comes crashing down on you. Your exit strategy is burned." And with those final words, our two enemies turned their backs and sprinted out.

Though I had no idea what just happened, I knew we had learned something important. That was one more reason to stay alive, and right now I needed it. Up to this point I had been fighting tooth and nail, but something changed inside me.

I had reached a level of exhaustion so profound that, even against all my better judgment, I began to prepare myself for the long sleep.

Stumblebum got right back to work, pushing me towards the closet to make sure that didn't happen. "Good work. We're gonna get you fixed up, buddy. You're too entertaining for me to let die. Just stay awake, alright?"

The adrenaline of that encounter had been the only thing keeping me going. Now that it was fading, I felt my time was coming.

"Yeah," was all I could manage to say. “I’ll try.”

When we came to the closet and threw its door open, my bad luck was there to play one last joke. The girl inside was dressed in an all-black uniform, of short stature, with a mousey face and wide eyes. She wasn't a nurse, that much was certain. In fact, I recognized her from my recent tenure at this hospital. She was on interfacility transport, not trained to give blood transfusions or really medical care of any significant kind. Basic life support certified, and nothing more.

Welp, I thought, guess that's it.

While Stumblebum was cursing up another storm, I comforted him. "It's okay. This has been a long week."

If this was my fate, I accepted it.

But Stumblebum wasn't ready to give up on me that easily. He pulled the girl to her feet and shook her. "You know your way around this place, right?"

"I- yeah, kind of," she stuttered.

"Then that's good enough! Help me find some damn blood."

He was in a frenzy, and she picked up on his energy fast. Unlike either of us, she had a phone which could cast us the light we needed to see ahead. From there, my wheels spun quickly as we raced for the emergency room. She believed we would find what we were looking for there.

Knowing how close we were, I decided to hold out just a bit longer. Death had become a comforting idea, but my story wasn't complete quite yet, and I felt I was owed more closure than the little I’d received so far. The steps I had taken to overcome my own insanity were small compared to the road that lay ahead, and I wanted to see who I could become if I gave it my all.

Moreover, the job I had set out to do from the very beginning, to right the wrongs of the cowardice that set me running on the day my parents died - to leave the safety of my bunker and go to face the rampager. That task was incomplete as long as those who let the monster off the chain were loose to roam free.

They all had to pay for what they did to my city. I would see to that.

So, as Stumblebum and the girl hauled me onto the emergency room table and hackneyed their way through setting up an IV, I kept my resolve. There were times, as the blood began to flow, that I thought that I might slip. Times when I went under entirely, only to be shaken awake again as my carers watched me closely.

The girl had seen enough IVs put in that she did a serviceable job. I didn't remember what my blood type was, so they went with O-negative. A safe enough bet at least. They left the tourniquet in place, and I chose not to think about what that might mean. I was simply happy to have made it to the finish line.

Though it was unclear if help was coming, the battle raged on outside without us. New Marion was not going to be given up without a fight, and occasionally that conflict would reach us inside as the hospital shook from the tremors.

An epic showdown the likes of which this city has never seen before, I thought. For once I'm glad to miss it.

After some time passed, they finally allowed me to sleep. They decided that it was better for me to rest than to keep stressing my body, as it was in fate's hands now. There was nothing more the two of them could do except to pray my body held its own.

Unlike before, this time I did not dream. I drifted through an endless black void. In that way, deep sleep and death are often compared to each other. Never before had the two been closer, indeed.

When I awoke again, however, the tide had turned.

Hearing me stir, Stumblebum came to my side. He was fast to show me that there was cell service again. Using a phone he had borrowed off a nameless corpse, he showed me the emergency alert which had gone out to everyone.

"It says the Saviors are here," he told me. "They showed up a while ago and most of the hostages have already been freed. The villains are routed, man. They're blown the hell out. News reports said Bigshot got there first and did most the work by himself."

I smiled weakly. "That's fantastic."

"I got in contact with Zephyr. She says the army is already moving in. They deployed those assholes using orbital class rockets, can you believe that? For once the government is actually doing its damn job. Almost doesn't seem possible."

"I guess... two national embarrassments in a row was enough." I tried to sit up and look at my leg then. "How l-long have I been out?"

"About two hours."

To the girl I asked, "And how long can my leg stay without circulation…? Do you know?"

She shook her head. "I don't. But try not to worry, they'll definitely come for the hospitals first."

Stumblebum made sure to tuck me in snuggly. "Try to get some more rest, ole Headcase. With all you've done the Saviors will probably want you meet you. You're a celebrity, my sweet summer child. You're gonna get your picture taken, interviews, paparazzi. Oh, chicks will be falling over themselves for a piece of that. You're gonna have to save some for the rest of us, but for now just take it easy. I've got your back, brother."

I appreciated the encouragement. More than that, the realization that I had made a friend after all these years… it was genuinely comforting.

While it was as hard to shut off my runaway thoughts as it always was, I had my exhaustion to help out. I consoled myself in the end with the fact that we had won. The city was truly safe now for the first time since all of this began. Though questions still remained, and vengeance was to be had, today we stood victorious. I had played my small part in that proudly.

My only regret was that we abandoned Sixes on the street to his two on one fight, but I held out hope that he was okay. If anyone could make it through, it was him.