5.03

Hunter, Jimena, Stick, and Silas were back at the treehouse after the confrontation with Turbo.

The violence had impacted each one of them. Though they had all fought and seen blood, seen pain and grief, they had never seen such visceral violence before.

“Some villains are dangerous, aren’t they?” asked Silas. “Like, I don’t just mean a threat or strong. But I mean…”

“Yep. There are many sick and twisted individuals out there. Serial killers and all sorts of others. Unfortunately they exist.” Stick looked over her group and empathised. She had come face to face with her fair share of disturbing people.

One of her first solo moments was stopping a serial killer who had murdered twenty people.

The final confrontation had been violent and lots of blood was spilled that night. Stick covered the scars under her outfit. Sometimes, they still hurt.

Stick shook the memories from her mind, burying them down deep when she felt the scars start to tingle.

“Why do it? Why do we do it?” asked Hunter.

“That’s a question you have to answer for yourself. I can’t answer that one for you.” Stick made herself a tonic water.

“Why do you do it then?” Jimena asked.

“To help. The scales between right and wrong are in a constant battle, and I want to do my bit to tip that fight in the favour of good. Sacrifice and pain are a part of it, but knowing that I’m making a difference, that I’m doing my best for that, is enough to keep me going.”

“But do you? Are you actually making a difference? The bad guys keep coming back. New ones keep rising up. How do you know you’re actually helping?” Pain weaved through Jimena’s words.

“Let me show you something.” Stick motioned for them to follow.

She led them to the elevator and took them below ground. It was somewhere none of the teens had visited before.

The elevator opened up and showed a vast room filled with screens, photos, and random memorabilia. Knick-knacks that made no sense.

“This room is my little cave of respite. This is where I do my work. Communications, detective stuff, all that.” She pointed to the main computer console. “But these are the things that matter most to me in this room.”

Stick walked over to one of the many photo collages and brought a photo over. It showed a picture of a young woman. She had a prosthetic leg and large scars knotted her face. But her face was lit up with the brightest smile Hunter and the others had ever seen. It had a warmth that made each of them smile as well.

“I’ll read the back. Thanks Stick, because of what you did, I’m still alive. I’ve almost graduated from university, and I’ll put my studies to good use in helping solve the world’s problems. Stay safe, Ashritha.”

“Then, there’s this thing over here I’ve got too.” Stick waltzed over to a shelf and grabbed a baseball. With it was a small card. “This was my first ever homerun. Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

“All of these are given to you as thanks?” asked Hunter.

“Yep. More people are grateful than you think, and some try to show their appreciation. I know some journalists and personalities on the internet will argue until their blue in the face that heroes are the cause of these villains, of these bad people. But coming in here reminds me I do make a difference to people every day. So, I’m gonna ask you. Do you want to be heroes and why do you want to be one?” Stick stared at them with a look that could shatter statues.

“I want to help people,” said Silas.

“So do I,” said Jimena.

Hunter stood there in silence for a while. He wanted to help people, that was what attracted him to the idea of being a hero. Its what his father did, and its what he wanted.

But the thoughts of revenge and seeking the truth behind the murder of his father kept wrestling with the ideals he wanted to have.

“I became a hero to get stronger and to find out how and why dad got murdered. I didn’t do it for recognition. But I want to help people.”

“I did it for the fame,” Silas admitted. “I thought it would be cool. I definitely had this picture in my head of it being some kind of celebrity life.”

“Some are like that. And if that’s why you do it, then so be it. As long as you’re honest with yourself.” Stick admired them for their honesty.

“I did it to find out what happened to my parents. They were vigilantes killed by a drug lord. I want to find out who that person is and confront them. I also want to help people. I want to help my friends achieve their goals.”

“There you go. There is help for us heroes with our mental health. If you feel you ever need help, call this number.” Stick handed each of them a business card. “I’m always here to help and so is Michael. Many other heroes are, but if you really seek help and wisdom, make sure you see them. As much as this world is fantastical and colourful and wild, very serious things happen.”

“Thanks.” They all made their way back to the elevator and back up into the treehouse.

The teens sat down and flicked on the television, wanting to relax after a heavy moment.

“I’ve said it many, many times. Heroes just make things worse. They’re the reason crime is so rampant. That’s why things in Nova Prime are run differently. Crime is almost non-existent, and my own personal employees take care of the few incidents that pop up. But they work for me, and I work for the city.” A smug man with a red suit and pointed moustache sat in a high-backed, white leather chair.

“That was the president of Nova Prime in an interview about the continuing success of Nova Prime. A city that the world can definitely learn from.” Silas flicked the t.v. off.