So the war is more complicated than I imagined, that I was training to fight the wrong way, and that if I wanted to win over everybody - I had to become something that everybody would understand -

In my mind I was becoming the Punisher, out for revenge and vengeance. Derek had a different vision. One I could do now - to force the issue and spread his video, spread the truth, and start a conversation. It was how they responded that would determine our next moves -

A football stadium, a crowd of people, enough cell phones and live video - and a few seeds dropped before the game. I walked up and down the stadium seating -

"Hot dogs!" I shouted, the perfect disguise to not be noticed, and have a reason to get close to the field -

I swooped in the night before and hid in the rafters, then people showed up - started sweeping, and with a broom I became invisible, swapping outfits and faces, stealing new ones, until I was happy. Now, my tray never emptied - as I passed out hot dogs and collected money, a packed stadium when it was time - the announcers voice -

"Please stand for the National Anthem."

It was beautiful, even just this small part of it - I hoped one day, they'd begin to play it entire at events -

"...and the home of the brave?" Most people don't sing it as a question - even know it was written that way, but today they'd have my answer -

As my tree - my stand - began to grow. It wasn't Elm, like the original Liberty tree, where that first stand of defiance was planned by the original Loyal Nine - there was a time in America where every town had a Tree of Liberty, that it was a point of pride and were quick to water it's roots -

Nor did I hang it with effigies. It was my job to grow the trees, to remind people what they stood for. The Tree of Liberty was the message -

Gasps - the announcer already moving the show to the coin toss, the pause in the baritone voice as the center of the field began to bubble, and sprout -

"And, folks - what a strange...it appears a tree, what a...strange tree, growing so...fast." I focused on the tree, mouth open, another person in the sea of surprise as close as I could get without drawing attention -

People backed away at first, security running over, they surrounded it but just stared - what could they do? And it was obviously not dangerous, just a tree, as it took up more and more space. Taller and taller as it filled the stadium, unfurling its branches slowly until it reached it's maturity -

I used five potions, would have used more if it was needed to extend the branches, make them full and heavy, to extend to the top of the stadium, to spread wide enough to hang over the stands, their growth not threatening, but still imposing -

This tree was black, gnarled, and smooth, it would be hard to climb - the leaves sharp and unforgiving, the fruit mostly bitter, unearthly - a new liberty tree, from the new liberty claimed.

Dungeons

Brilliant Derek - looking at people's expressions, the confusion, and whispering. It wasn't angry. Even though they'd paid good money to see a football game that I'd taken from them...Derek had been right, how they'd respond -

"Won't they just cut it down?"

"The only one in existence?"

"But it's football -"

"Do you know how much that tree is worth? Too much to just chop, and by the time they decide to, the hippies and scientists will be fighting over who gets to chain themselves to it first. It may look like a tree, but it's a thorn - one they won't be able to reach, and it doesn't matter what they do, all that matters is that they debate. Everybody will have an opinion, that you can't talk about the tree without talking about how it got there, the dungeons, and as long as we keep the conversation going, they'll connect what it stands for and talk about that too."

Brilliant, clever Derek...

I ate a hot dog, as people took selfies, called friends, or just speculated. I turned and left, winding my way through the crowd, through their frozen distractions because I had more stops and a taxi got me there quickly.

The IRS Building - yellow roses began to grow - the flower of freedom.

The building was hideous, brutal as a prison, the pillars in the front reminiscent of bars to a cell, not even necessary, added to artistically soften its purpose in ironic fashion. Nobody paid much attention to it - just accepted that it was there.

I made it beautiful, the roses climbed like vines, they didn't destroy or scratch or split they hard stone, they didn't even block the entrance, or the view from the sparse windows - they grew beautifully covering every open inch, wrapping the pillars - and they bloomed. The fragrance of them blotted out whiffs of food, the puttering of a muffler.

More pictures, gasps of surprise, but no fear - not from the people on the streets, I hoped there was a lot of fear, for the people that would see it, would know what was coming - then I was disappearing again into a crowd, taking every chance to dodge, to shift - and another ride -

To my last destination, because Derek's plan was good and well, because he was right. I didn't know everybody at fault, everybody responsible yet. This wasn't a single rotten tooth that needed to be pulled to eat again, that punching the country in the mouth, even if I knocked the tooth out would still be viewed poorly -

But I did have one name - the head of the Department of Homeland Security -

And if he was consumed with work, or the mastermind of this all - perhaps he would have been working late, or I'd miss him completely, locked away in a briefing room. Perhaps I would have had to wait a lot longer, but the lights were on, and he was there, at home.

So I stopped by, a gated community - very exclusive. But when you looked exactly like a resident, one that did enjoy jogging? And could change how you looked so quickly to appear neighborly - and I was confident enough in myself to risk it -

*Knock knock*

"Hello?" A lovely woman opened the door, she had greying blond hair and the right amount of makeup, a pleasant smile -

"Mrs. Gutmier, is Anthony available? He should bet expecting me." I passed her a bouquet, and flashed the special passport they'd given me when I was first introduced to the Department. I was crisply dressed in a dark blue suit - changed in seconds.

And she hardly even looked - she grabbed the flowers, taking a deep breath and said they were lovely, even as she rolled her eyes at her husband's apparent negligence to tell her I was stopping in giving only the most casual glances at my document, as she pulled the door open for me, already swinging back -

"Anthony..."

It was so similar to how my mother responded to an unannounced church friend, so normal - as I followed her into the entry way. It was a lovely home - bright and clean, it smelled of lilacs and fresh laundry. There was no strange obsidian statues, or any evil art, just a Norman Rockwell, maybe even an original?

Was that really what I had expected? A lair - in a way, because I'd come to think of these people as evil, and to find them so normal? Yet Derek had begun to prepare me, I realized -

Anthony matched his photo, but was less imposing in dark blue pajamas, he was standing from his couch, the newspaper dropped quickly from his hand, the news on - about a giant tree. Photos of a family displayed proudly around the room, a son graduating from Harvard, a daughter still attending Yale, medicine -

And a perplexed look on his face, not even caution -

"Anthony, I'm Cody Abbot, I'm here because you offered me a position, I wanted to discuss it with you." I said as I handed him the letter -

"A position?" His face grew even more confused as he briefly glanced down at the letter, up at me for a long second, and back down again - then chuckled, "You mean my Department. I'm sorry, this is -"

"That is your signature?" I gestured, as his wife hovered, unsure - she had two glasses of water on a tray and she was trying to find a moment in the conversation to slip in and offer me one, "Thank you, Mrs. Gutmier, I said reaching for the glass as she chuckled, leaning toward me. I looked back at the open couch - we were all standing.

Group Dynamics - I needed him to sit, to put him at ease to dispel the growing tension. Staring at the couch, looking between them both, taking a sip of the water offered, and slowly, he did sit down, as he glanced at the letter again, and back at me, and I followed right behind.

"Yes, I - it is my signature, but, I sign many - you're a returnee?" The fact he hadn't tried to shoot me, call the police, or security told me a lot. The fact that he didn't recognize my name, told me even more - even if I didn't like what it meant - that it wouldn't be so easy -

"I've come to you, Anthony, as a friend. It's obvious you don't know the details, but something terrible has happened. There are people using your authority, your name, and your position to take the returnee's freedom, to take away their rights, and I wanted to give you the opportunity to do something about it."

He stared almost blankly at me, there was no guilt, but neither did I see surprise. His posture seemed to solidify, in a manner where my father never quite relaxed, Anthony had a mask for important matters, or perhaps this had been the mask.

His face, even in pajamas, became more -

"Anthony. I was captured and tortured for over a month because I wouldn't reveal my secrets, not for any crime. I was taken to a facility by two of your Agents, I've written their information on the back of the letter so you can verify the truth of what occurred, for you can trace back what happened, and find out who is responsible so they can be arrested. Included is every name I remember, sketches of people I saw, names of soldiers. For what you find out to be made public."

Do it the right way the first time - it's something my father always told me, because it's easier. I never got the implication, why not do it the right way every time?

"You accepted a position of leadership, Anthony. I'm holding you responsible." I said it with a smile that I meant, "Consider this a trial."

Then I finished my glass and thanked the speechless Mrs. Gutmier, and him for the hospitality, standing up, neither of them rose with me so I saw myself out - I walked, I didn't hear police cars or security, but I couldn't pretend I was safe -

Cameras are everywhere. Stop lights, street lights, security systems. More and more each day, and that's just what you can see. I remembered before that when I did notice them, that they made me feel safe -

Wingsuit of the Eagle - Utility Wear

A suit fashioned from the plumage and glory of an Eagle, containing the instinct of flight -

Durability 300/300

Quality: Good

In a way, it was the simplest of things I'd crafted. The closest to its nature, the least changed. The eagle is flight. I struggled at first because I was trying to make it fit me - but why? When I could be more like the eagle - then it fit me like a glove, as I slipped into the suit and we met as one.

My arms stretched to fill the length of it even as some bones twisted 180 degrees, to reach the range of motion needed - and just like how my Cowl filled me with a strength, this suit filled me an understanding - how to fly.

It only took two seconds, before their door was even closed behind me I'd taken two long steps and flap flap -

I flew, up first, and then fast.

The cap of the suit followed my head and neck, and the tail feathers were braced at my knees, to help with my shifts of flight, but the instinct -

That was what brought it together - the eagle's glory, the only way I could move with any true speed and sophistication. It was needed to follow the breeze, how to turn and swoop and catch pockets of warmth to soar, to see them from a wistful leaf. I didn't -

My flight was frantic and quick, my wings flapped as I tilted myself down, taking all the momentum that wanted to push me up, instead forward, close to the ground, and then I dove, right into the Potomac. My suit vanishing as I went deep, down stream with the current, breathing air from my inventory. It was dirty, polluted, and disgusting, nothing like the dungeon water, the fresh streams I'd found crystal clear and tasted water -

I swam further and further, until I got the message.

Jason entering a dungeon -

"Holy shit you did it!" Derek whispered, Jason offered me a fist, and Brandon turned back, nodding at me.

"I did something. You really think this will work?"

Derek nodded quickly, pulling out his cellphone to show me -

"Where's Mike?"

"Waiting for the next Dungeon." Jason shook his head, "If he can, he's awful at finding them. I was supposed to be second, he needed more time."

We all shared quick greetings, even if they were different now - the entire conversation taking place with our backs together, our eyes scanning - snow. Just briefly glancing at each other before turning back -

Bare branches, powdery white, a tight glare over loose hills. Quiet.

"Any of you guys know how to ski?" I asked as we all relaxed, no threats -

"Ski?" Jason laughed, "You really take every chance you get to remind us what a rich, spoiled spaz you are."

They were all nodding, "What?"

Derek jumped up, and a board was on his feet before he landed again on the snow - he swiped his legs, sending a spray of cold across the three of us - I was wet, getting cold I flashed a change. If they were gonna be shits?

"I know Derek's dying to show you what he found, I made him promise to wait -"

"You have wings? Wait," Jason held up an Ankh, his voice excited, "You mean there's more?"

"Nothing big, what did you call it, Derek? A souvenier?"

"Incredible. You are incredible -"