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Emma just drives, not even looking for the road. She needs to gain as much speed as she can. Her friends are shouting something, encouragement or fear or both, and then Bells’ hands come to rest on her shoulders, squeezing her in affirmation. The meteors are still incoming, and huge pieces of debris crash about them, all fire and flame and destruction raining down around them. The ground is quaking; every bit of flaming shard thunders as it crunches into the earth.
Emma swerves to avoid a huge piece, and everything turns to hyperfocus. There’s nothing but her beating heart and her hands on the wheel and concentration on getting them out of here. She jerks the wheel to avoid another flaming piece of debris, but she keeps going, keeps pushing forward into the night.
They’ve got to get out of the blast zone. Emma looks at her options: the bare fields ahead of her and the road and the gentle slope.
She turns sharp right toward the hill and lets gravity pull them forward, and then momentum takes the lead and they’re still going, going.
Finally, the car rolls to a stop, and Emma blinks and the world comes back to focus.
“It’s stopped,” Jess says. “The worst is over.”
There are still a few small bits raining down, floating embers falling behind them, but the sky is dark again and the stars shine, glimmering billions of miles away in their distant homes.
Emma turns around and, in the distance, where the building once stood is nothing but a crater reaching out to just a few feet behind them, pocked with huge pieces of a satellite. Shards of metal, twisted and burned beyond recognition, lie scattered across the ground, but everything seems unnaturally cool now. Kingston and the other meta-humans are gone; they must have fled to avoid the impact.
She takes a deep breath, taking in the scent of ozone, and thinks of the dream she had as a child of going to see the stars. The stars had come down to them tonight, but they lived.
Emma’s tempted to keep the car and drive right to Christine’s, but she admits Abby’s paranoia is right; it probably is bugged. It wouldn’t be worth it to escape from Kingston’s clutches only to lead him right to their hideout. They drive to the city and hide the car in one of the ramps leading to the Underbright for future debugging. From there, it’s just a matter of walking through the network of tunnels until they reach the other side of the city.
“Hey,” Emma says. She and Bells have fallen behind on the walk; their hands brush. She can sense his hesitation, the question in his eyes; it’s probably time. “I’m sorry about leaving like that.”
Bells shakes his head. “I’m sorry if I— I don’t know if it was me, if I ever said anything to make you feel like you weren’t useful—”
“No, no—” Emma sighs. “I let Deirdre get to me.”
“I could have said something.”
“You did.”
“Yeah, once, and then I got caught up in the missions. I’m sorry, Em.”
Emma sniffs. “Can I hug you?”
“Of course— I only asked earlier because I thought you didn’t— you didn’t want—” Bells sighs. “Well, I thought you wanted to break up or something.”
“I…” Emma presses into his chest; Bells rests his chin on her head; his arms pull her close. She sighs, closing her eyes, and then opens them, pulling out of the hug. “I think I’ve been stressing out about the relationship thing too. Honestly, I don’t think I can do the romantic relationship, Bells. Being boyfriend-girlfriend, it’s weird. I don’t think it’s really something I could do.”
Bells nods, looking at her sincerely. “Okay. You know that I’ll always love and support you, right?”
Emma bites her lip and smiles at him. “Me too. And I’ve been really happy being together with you too. I just— I think I jumped into labeling it something that I wasn’t comfortable with, or maybe built up all these expectations in my head.” She takes a deep breath and looks in his brown eyes, taking in the soft way he looks at her, the way he’s holding her, the way he’s always had her back. “You’re really important to me. I want to be with you and have a relationship and I think— I think what I want is a queerplatonic relationship.” Emma’s nervous, but she knows it’s what she wants, knows that whatever happens now, at least she was honest about that.
Bells nods once more, smiling. He wipes the tear threatening to fall down her cheek. “I think that would be great.”
“Really?”
He pulls her back into the hug and kisses her forehead. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“And you’re happy?”
“Em, we’ve talked about this— this relationship is what we make it. I’m happy to be with you. Romance isn’t the only kind of love.” He smiles at her, pressing his forehead to hers.
Emma can feel him breathing, can feel his heartbeat pounding in a steady rhythm in his chest. Those fears and worries she’s been carrying in her heart fade away, and she feels a fervent hope blossoming inside her, growing stronger and stronger. They’ve got this. They’ve got everything to look forward to and can develop this relationship together.
“So he had a space shuttle?” Brendan exclaims, stunned. “That’s impossible; how could he have hidden it?”
“Maybe it’s in that massive abandoned building just east of the city,” Sasha muses.
“I still can’t believe you all got caught,” Brendan mutters. “I was so worried when you didn’t come back, and then Mom and Dad—”
Jess chuckles, elbowing her brother. “You were too busy anyway helping Michael destroy all his research.”
“Did you really see brains?” Brendan asks, practically bouncing.
“Yeah,” Emma says.
“I’m glad you came and rescued us,” Bells says, “but I’m just thinking of all the possibilities if you wanted to play as a double-agent.”
Emma scoffs.
“Come on, you could have gone to space!”
It’s not a dream that’s gone entirely; Emma thinks of school and a future in the stars and looks up at the sky. “It’ll still be there,” Emma says. “When I’m ready.” For now, the fight is what’s important. Without changing the corruption in the Collective, there won’t be a future—a good one, for anyone.
They turn the corner, running into a group of teens wearing similar punk makeup and clothes. “Hey!” one says, waving at them. “Are you going to the speech?”
“Yeah,” Jess says.
“You know that League is a lie, right?”
Emma blinks. “What did you say?”
“The League! The whole system is messed up, like how we watch all these heroes and villains fight one another—”
Emma and Bells trade stunned glances. “Yeah! The League is a lie!”
The punks and their friends nod at them before continuing on their walk.
“I can’t believe it,” Emma says. “The word-of-mouth movement. It worked.”
“See, your plans are great,” Bells says, nudging her.
The square is crowded, filled with people avidly waiting for news. From the back, Emma can barely see Kingston approach the podium, but she can see his smug countenance projected above the square.
“Citizens of the Collective,” Kingston says, gripping the edges of the podium. “It is a time of great turmoil and confusion. I understand the recent events and skirmishes between meta-humans, especially this new crop of villains, associated and unassociated with the Villain’s Guild, have left many of you afraid for your safety.”
There’s a murmur growing in the crowd.
“Now, various reports about the nature of the League have been broadcast about over the Net. I urge you not to listen to these reports, as they are wildly inaccurate. Trust in the Collective. Trust in the Heroes’ League of Heroes. We are here to protect you from all the new vigilantes out there. You may think our country is going wild and out of control, but it’s more important than ever before to obey the Authorities and the Council that protects you. Many of you have upgraded your MonRobots and your home security, with good reason. This is a good first step. But the next step is electing officials who can properly protect you.”
He steps back from the podium, and the curtain rises to reveal a number of meta-humans standing shoulder to shoulder next to him. Aside from a few familiar faces, everyone looks brand new. “I stand with the League, and we are here to protect you. The so-called Resistance are nothing but rabble-rousers and dissidents who seek to destroy the unity of our great nation. You may know that the Central Regions are to vote soon on a new leader to represent them for the North American Collective. Who better to lead you than a man who has led you through the most prosperous era of peace and safety these past few years? Who has stepped up to protect you in this time of new fear and turmoil?
“Citizens, I have an announcement. Our heroes have often protected their identities behind masks and alter egos, but I see no need for this. In my support for the League and out of respect for my fellow meta-humans—”
Emma hears gasps.
Kingston holds out his hands and floats above the podium, and then lightning crackles in his left hand, and his right hand glows with red-hot power, and then he brings it down onto the podium, which explodes into splinters.
“I have no need for a hero name; I am a hero. You may have seen me a few times these past few months, masked, as I joined my fellow meta-humans in the League in your protection. I was masked then because I didn’t want to overshadow the hardworking heroes in the League. But rest assured, I am stepping forward now into the light, so all know the truth. I will use my powers to protect you from this imminent threat.”
“Kingston! Kingston! Kingston!” The shouts grow louder and louder until Kingston’s name is indistinguishable from the roars of cheers and applause.
“Why are they clapping? He’s the one who’s been causing all the ‘turmoil and confusion,’” Jess says, her mouth set in a grim, flat line.
“They don’t know any better,” Bells says.
“Maybe they do,” Emma says, looking through the crowd. There are a number of people whispering to each other, not participating in the mob of applause; a few pull up their DEDs. She can see in the projected holos the last battle with Captain Orion and Orion clearly advancing upon innocent bystanders in the street, lightning sparking from her fists. Another holo of Vindication pushing aside citizens as he stalks toward Smasher and Shockwave, Starscream ignoring citizens crying for help, hero after hero showing their true nature.
Something crackles behind her, and Emma watches, stunned, as the holodisplays advertising Starscream’s shaving cream and Sublimate’s hair gel disappear; the pixels rearrange themselves until the two displays read MISCHIEF LIVES and the LEAGUE IS A LIE.
People turn and point, and someone shouts, “The League is a lie!”
Another sign appears, this time projected by a DED, and another, and another.
Yes, the crowd was awed and stunned by Kingston’s display of power, but the chorus of Kingston’s name dies down. A few people still shout for Kingston. They don’t know the truth.
But Emma does. And so do her friends. And all the Resistance. And many of the people in this crowd. She thought they were a fledgling group, but the numbers prove that they aren’t. Everywhere, all over the Collective, people are asking the right questions and looking at the evidence before them.
Emma smiles.
“What?”
“Look, a “The League Is a Lie” shirt,” Emma muses.
“Excellent,” Jess says.
Emma squeezes Bells’ hand. He squeezes back, and Emma’s heart soars. She knows where they stand, knows where they stand together.
She looks at her friends, all here despite everything, despite everyone that’s come against them: the League and Kingston and Orion and even those in their own Resistance, the differences they’ve had, the struggle to move forward. Despite everything, they have. And it’s clear now that the fight is in the open, and there’s nothing that Kingston and the League can do to stop it now that it’s started. Every person in every region has the opportunity to question Kingston’s word now.
“Change is coming,” Emma says. “I promise.”
In the face of corruption and lies, they stand together, ready for everything to come.