He swung at me but released a dagger at the last second, sending it flying. It nicked me as it passed. Surprising.

“The powerless lived in sewers and ate shit to survive. Still, I was happy.”

He kicked at my torso. In one swift movement, Iseult slipped a gun into his free hand and fired in my direction. I couldn’t deal with point-blank gunfire, so I popped behind a concrete wall. His voice echoed above the reverberating clamour.

“My brother protected me from scavengers and gave me food when I was too weak to move. You do not know true hunger until the emptiness is more than physical. Dizzy spells assault you, your muscles atrophy. You want to move, to live, reminiscing over and over your last meal, but pain prevents you from trying. When I was hungry, raw rats made me salivate.”

He climbed over my desk to search for me, but he didn’t have night vision. The dim lab hid many secrets, most were mine. I crept around the side room, searching for objects I could surprise him with. In a chemical vent, I found two methyl mercury vials. This stuff was everywhere. I could hit him with one, but its effects were too deadly.

“Even though he experienced the same hunger, my brother would give me part of his share. I have never forgotten that favor. But we lived in the fucking Vilzone. A hero needed a new sidekick after his last died, so he kidnapped my brother and forced him to fight.”

Iseult’s voice choked up. He gave up looking for me and crouched with his back to the wall.

“He did not survive the fucking day. I will never forgive heroes who abuse their power, especially ones who hide behind virtue.”

I stepped from darkness, applauding his story.

“Wow, okay. You have me beat. Makes me wonder why you didn’t accept my dinner invitation.”

He gritted his teeth and threw a knife at me.

“Fuck off. You are the same as the others, if not worse. I imagined you might be a good person. Mark does not stop talking about you. He believes the shit out of you. But you have so much power and waste it. You could save so many.”

He hit me where it hurt. I did waste my power, if not for the reason he thought. I hesitated to break character, but this wasn’t the right mood for my show anyway.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I am worse. I am the worst. I can’t take anything seriously because if I did, I’d have to face myself. At least with comedy, I can shield myself from my faults and failures. My backstory, this whole setup, everything is played for a gag.”

I crouched beside him, against the wall. Neither of us looked at each other.

“I had a sibling, too. We weren’t close, but she was always there. Our interests were too different. While she studied law, I studied the blade. While she made friends, I studied the blade. While she mastered the pen, I studied the blade.”

Iseult nodded his head.

“Blades are worthy weapons. I admire your dedication.”

I blushed at the misplaced praise.

“No wait, that was another joke. Well, not a joke, but a metaphor? I’m garbage with swords, but I did train my body and my gift. I’d always wanted to be a hero, so I battled constantly. Eventually, I neared the peak.”

He narrowed his eyes and reached into his hidden arsenal.

“You are a fucking hero? But you are Genewall’s darkness.”

“Ah, that was a lie. Everything was for the camera. I’m a Youtuber, remember?”

I pointed to the camera recording our every action. He rubbed his face, fed up.

“Hey, I had to get footage for my channel.”

“Is everything about you fake?”

“No, not that last bit. Oh, and the bit where I asked you out.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Did my shitty life inspire you?”

“Kinda. I related to it. When I was Sofrinov Peace, I par—“

“Wait, that Sofrinov Peace, the fucking Dog Heroes’ leader?”

I took a second to process what he said. Who the heck were the Dog Heroes?

“No, TF Hero Force’s leader.”

“Where I come from, that is the same fucking thing.”

“Didn’t Mark tell you? He almost did before I stopped him.”

Iseult grumbled.

“No. He left that out. Mark only spoke about your actions during the Arcana Disaster. I heard Sofrinov Peace abdicated his position after he fucked up against Plaguark.”

“I did. Even with my gift stretched to its limits, I couldn’t save everyone. Street after street fell to undead or disease, adding more soldiers to Plaguark’s army. I tried so hard to hold him off, but even as I held his decapitated head in my hands, undeath spread unimpeded.”

Iseult gazed wide-eyed at my profile.

“Was necromancy not his gift?”

“No, that was the cover story. His gift was viral manipulation, a rare ability but not unique. Others could create a similar disease if they tried. We couldn’t let the public know.”

He shut his eyes. I nodded my head even though he wouldn’t see it. As I spoke, I trembled. I’d never told anyone about that time, at least not the gritty details. A strange excitement settled over me, partly from the relief of not needing to bottle my feelings and partly from the worry that Iseult would hate me if he knew the full ramifications of my weakness.

“The death toll accelerated as the dead covered more and more ground and I… I couldn’t do anything. I specialize in one-on-one combat, so I had to wait for AOE heroes to do their jobs. Save a few, lose dozens. The undead wave pushed from the NH industries production bloc to the SL campus.”

“Stuart Law? Your sister….“

“Yeah, she studied at SL. She should’ve escaped. The campus had emptied of people. But as smart as she was, she could be so idiotic. I found her myself.”

“Alive?”

“Undead.”