Hero Journals

Mr. Marcus did come back the next day, just as he said he would. We talked a lot about what I wanted to do, and where I wanted to go. I wasn’t too worried about it, as long as I had a place to sleep and food to eat. After we had talked for a while, he said he knew a place I would be welcome, and that someone with my unique abilities would be able to help lots of people. This sounded fine, and he made arrangements.
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I went shopping over the weekend. Several of us went, and just wandered around a couple of stores picking up this and that. Nothing momentous and nothing exciting, just some little things for around the house.
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I did not understand what was happening after I stopped two men from escaping from the police station’s cells. Everyone was afraid of me, and the policemen asked a lot of unhappy sounding questions. They moved me in to a different cell, one with all concrete walls and only the one door. It didn’t even have a window. I sat on the bunk there and waited. They did have a doctor come in and look at my shoulder where I was shot. I couldn’t tell if he was more afraid of me or interested in what happened. He left as soon as he was done, leaving me in a bandage, my arm in a sling, and under some pain killers, which made me groggy. I didn’t like that at all.
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I cannot believe how bad things in the world have gotten!

I read the paper every day, and I like to think I have an idea of what is going on in the world. There are some pretty tense and unpleasant things out there right now, and we’re doing our best to cope with them. Those aren’t what surprised me so much, and made me so very unhappy, though.
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I woke up from dozing to the sounds of a struggle, and a cry of, “Let go!” An officer, who had been walking through the cells every hour or two was standing outside the far cell, and pulling back against something. I stood up, and tried to see. I could see the one of the men in the cell and reached out and grabbed him, and was pulling him closer to the bars. I frowned, watching quietly.
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Okay. I’m a hero. An official, card-carrying hero. It’s my job to put myself in danger to try and keep the various forces of evil – and Paragon City has plenty! – at bay.

That doesn’t bother me. I knew what I was getting in to, and it’s what I want to do.

Sometimes, though, I have to wonder what planet our contacts are on.
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Things were good for several days. I found a place to hide and sleep that was dry and warm enough, and I found food to eat. I didn’t even have to chase it. It was being put in a big metal box behind a restaurant, and nobody seemed to want it.

It wasn’t long before that went bad. I ate something that made me feel bad, and went to go sleep it off.

I woke up in a cage again. For a few minutes, after the usual wooziness from being tranquilized, I was afraid I was back where I’d come from. This didn’t last long, though, because I looked and sniffed around and everything was different. Around me, I could see other cages, these with humans in them. I presumed I was someplace really terrible, and I was very worried. How bad a place is it where they’ll put their own people in cages?
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Yesterday, our team helped Positron.

Yes, that Positron, the member of the Freedom Phalanx, who was so instrumental against the invasion of the Rikti. It was quite an honor, really, and I’m very proud to have been able to help out such an august hero.

It was also an incredibly long day, and a huge amount of work. We did at least a dozen missions, struggling with the Clockwork, the Circle of Thorns, and Dr. Vahzilok’s unpleasant zombies. They had been struggling with each other, and we tried to break them up.
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Tonight, I an nervous. Tomorrow, a group of us who have been working together are going to go off and try to help Positron with whatever he needs us to do. Many others have done this, but I worry that we will not be able to stand up to the great hero’s demands, and that we will let him and the city down.

I haven’t been this nervous about what I do as a hero since my first days in town. Those were so very difficult, not knowing who to talk to or what to do, or how to do it. I still sometimes am surprised that I made the choice to leave my old life behind and come here to Paragon City to be a hero.
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Free! Free at last! No more being stuck with needles or forced to find and hurt others who were, like me, trapped and unwilling. What a wonderful day!

What a long day, too. The usual day of being asked to do incomprehensible things, and having to fight or hide, or simply think the right way to make the implants work, followed by the regular return to my cage, and some food and a bit of sleep.

Then the alarms went off – big, scary, loud alarms, with flashing lights and wailing sirens. None of us knew what was happening around us, until we smelled the smoke. Then we knew these were the fire alarms and that we should be scared.
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