The Phenomena of Fireflies and Star... - Chapter 19: Chapter 19

October 9, 2023
Andrade Residence
8:06 AM
Max noticed this peculiar air that tethered him to Ames. It was pleasant, even friendly, but it definitely hadn't been as palpable and persistent then as it was now. It was much more comprehensible to him now.
They had overslept quite a bit, and Max could now hear Ames moving about downstairs, his own cushion now kept away.
"That was quite a night," Max mumbled, cracking his neck. He still couldn't believe Ames's smarts in dealing with the nightmare. Pure genius. Also, a very close call. Max didn't know why these nightmares had been popping up recently. He wondered if they were normal subconscious phenomena for people like him. He'd had quite an extensive history this whole time, and there were more materials to draw nightmares from. Also, he didn't know if preventing them was possible.
'Come to think of it,' it dawned on Max. 'I haven't meditated before bed for quite some time now.'
Enforcers had always valued meditation as a means of putting their inner workings in order in preparation for more relaxed states. Max had kicked that out of his schedule, and he hadn't even realized it until now.
'Ames really did give me something there, though,' he thought. 'I'll see what I can do with these nightmares. They've been conveniently popping up.'
'Ames...'
He had never embraced Ames in slumber before. Last night's turn of events had definitely made a turn for something he hadn't expected.
He couldn't deny it. He actually missed it.
He really did.
Not that he was expecting it to become a constant from here on out.
He wanted to quiet down what he was feeling, but he really missed how Ames felt. How Ames had made him feel. How Ames made him feel.
Noticing how hastily Ames was walking about in the kitchen, Max hurried down the stairs.
"Hey, I got that," Max said, reaching the bottom of the stairs. Ames looked back at him with a shy smile. Max could detect some uncertainty from it, but for the most part, the smile was simply shy. "Just leave it there. It's cool."
"Um, hey, uh," Ames stumbled with his words for a while, a reusable coffee cup in hand, an empty bowl of cereal in the other. "We... I kind of overslept, huh?"
Ames basically dropped the plastic cereal bowl into the sink.
"Yep," Max replied. He went directly for the sink, allowing Ames to move behind him. "I'm good here. You just prepare what you need to prepare, alright?"
"Oh, okay...," Ames mumbled, an insecure chuckle faintly trailing his already quiet response. It was all good, though. Max's empathic read was consistent. He glanced up to find Ames hurrying back up into the bedroom.
'Cute,' Max thought. 'This is his first day back to school after that long break.'
Looking down at the sink, it appeared that Ames had only had cereal for breakfast. That was unusual. Then again, the guy was already preparing for work a little behind schedule.
'He's gonna' be hungry.'
Right after brushing his teeth and perfuming up, Ames checked himself out in the mirror. He looked sharp enough. He hadn't gotten unlucky with a taunt of a coffee or cereal stain. Thank goodness. Looking good in his comeback was something he was looking forward to. He wore a black double-breasted suit jacket over a white V-neck shirt and matched his upper garments with black trousers. He had lost his pepper spray back when Malign had thrown him out of the school, but he already had a replacement. He pulled out the new pepper spray from its drawer and attached it to his belt.
'I feel good,' he said to himself, lightly touching up the style of his curtain hair. He actually did feel good, and he was glad that his appearance was just as indicative of that. 'I haven't taken antidepressants for quite some time now, but I don't think I'm going to need them anymore.'
'Max didn't seem to mind me falling asleep over him,' he recalled, feeling his cheeks blushing up a bit at the sudden thought. He slapped them lightly, annoyed by his own silliness. 'I think, hmm...'
'I know I fell back asleep first. I was too sleepy.'
'He really kept hugging me...'
'He could've just put me aside...'
Ames wasn't going to lie to himself. The last time he'd been that physically intimate was with Harvey. Of course, Ames knew very well the difference. With Harvey, back in the day, they used to express their love for each other through physical touch. Sex included.
Ames had hugged Max last night out of strong relief. Max, after all, was a very good friend of his. Ames had never seen a nightmare that painful to watch before. It had looked almost as if Max had been possessed. Ames had watched way too many horror movies, and he knew what that looked like. He'd had to take a shot with the little knowledge that he had gathered about Max's powers, and it had turned out to be effective.
Still, Ames couldn't help but admit that Max's gesture had been undeniably sweet.
'That really was sweet,' he thought to himself as he stared on at his own reflection. 'And so respectful.'
Ames gulped, not sure what to make of what he was feeling.
'What if I try to be more honest?' he considered, taking a deep breath. 'You miss the hug, don't you, Ames?'
He remembered how solid Max's body had felt. He could tell that Max had a strength level beyond what any normal man could possess, but he could also feel that welcoming warmth and that slight softness that came from Max's kind character. It was a very familiar, yet also very distinct, feeling.
And it felt good.
And Ames knew he hadn't done what he'd done with malice in his heart.
It had come out of him, almost without his full consciousness, but he had also lingered in the comfort that had followed.
'Yeah,' he answered his own question. 'I miss it.'
Max waited near the bottom of the stairs, watching Ames as he carefully made his way down.
"Hey, Ames...," Max called out.
"Uh huh?" Ames responded.
"I'm going to drop by the school later, alright?" Max continued, suddenly slightly uncertain with the idea he had in mind after seeing Ames's surprised reaction. "If that's okay with you, or..."
"You do know you could get recognized, right?"
"I got that part covered. Trust me."
"Well," Ames also seemed to hesitate for a while, but his expression eventually lightened up. "My class ends at 6:30. I'll wait for you in the parking lot. You do know my plate number, right?"
"Yep."
"Okie-dokie, then."
They continued to stare at each other for a while, as if waiting for either of them to say something.
Max eventually remembered what he had prepared.
"By the way," he said, going to a plate on the kitchen counter and retrieving two packed double sandwiches he had prepared hastily. He then walked over toward Ames and presented his treats.
Ames looked very surprised, followed by a friendly chuckle of disbelief. Max could read, however, that Ames found the gesture sweet.
"Come on," Max urged. "That's chocolate, hazelnut, peanut butter, and blueberry jam. Times two."
"Oh, wow!" Ames remarked, taking the sandwiches and holding them up for Max to see. "You didn't have to do this. I already ate."
"You had a two-week leave," Max reminded him. "You might wanna' ease your way back into work."
"This is, um..."
"This is what?"
"This is really sweet, Max," Ames said, holding the sandwiches close to his stomach.
"You're not into sweets?"
"No, silly. That's not what I meant."
"Oh, yeah?"
"This is really sweet," Ames said, looking him right in the eyes. "Of you to do."
"Sweeter than you falling asleep on me?" Max didn't know why he'd had the sudden surge of boldness to joke about that, but he had already put it out there. He bit his tongue discreetly.
"You're gonna' be using that on me for as long as I live, huh?" Ames demanded, squinting at him in forced disappointment.
"Yes, sir, I am," Max pushed on. He had already joked about it. He might as well just push it.
"Don't push it, cowboy," Ames snarled, rolling his eyes as he turned around to head out. For a split-second there, just before Ames could do an about face, Max caught a glimpse of the guy's cheeks turning red.
Max kept his mouth sealed, muffling his giggles as he followed Ames out of the house to man the gates.
"You can access The Mastermind, if you want," Ames reminded him. "'Cause I just might quiz you later myself."
"Oh, am I being punished, Teacher Ambrose?" Max teased, liberating his grin as he moved toward the gate.
"What do you think?" Ames replied sharply.
Max allowed the humor of the moment to carry him away as he opened the gates, stepping aside for Ames to drive out.
He then gave Ames a taunting look that he knew would do the trick.
"I think I want to be punished, Teacher Ambrose," he cracked, pursing his lips as he watched Ames's mouth fall slack in disbelief.
"You're unbelievable...," Ames complained, rolling his eyes before disappearing into his car.
School of Education – Conference Room
Gonzales University of Arts and Sciences
9:38 AM
Dr. Anita Masuda stood beside Ames with her arms crossed before her chest, her eyes honed in on the video presentation that Ames had played to demonstrate the behavior of The Mastermind.
"It's not exactly a technological breakthrough," Ames pointed out. "But I did program it to behave like an ever-adjusting curriculum depending on the user's skill level, intelligence type, learning style, IQ level, and periodic examination scores."
Ames had made sure not to record Max's usage to avoid outing him. Ames had used his own adventure in The Mastermind instead, showing his progression in difficulty level, as well as how the program had connected with the internet to locate and attach links of the most credible studies and e-books in his field.
The presentation also showed how he had logged in as another person, a false identity, taking an engineering course. All for a demonstration of how the program had automatically generated a curriculum complete with study links. He had logged in as a visual learner with a visual-spatial intelligence type, and so the materials that had been chosen by the AI had been meticulously evaluated for compatibility with the specific user's learning style and intelligence type.
"Did you make all of the exam questions?" Dr. Masuda inquired.
"Automatically generated by The Mastermind's artificial intelligence," Ames explained. "Synapse."
"Synapse?" Dr. Masuda looked at him in shock. "That's too advanced. You learned how to use it?"
"Yes, Doctor," Ames replied proudly. He'd spent years making programming a serious hobby to equip himself with the knowledge necessary for his mission, but learning to harness the Synapse's behavior, capabilities, and power had also been, in itself, quite a battle. "Got hold of a Synapse unit and turned it into the skeleton I needed. I built the rest."
"You must be really something to build what is basically a portable college with user-based course alignment and curriculum-establishing capabilities out of an AI that's too advanced for civilian use."
"I wanted to make a change, Doc. I did what I thought was best."
"You might want to start thinking about how you're going to profit from this, Ames."
"Profit's not what I'm after, Doc. I want development. I want to unlock the full potential of anyone that will allow me to."
"That's good, largely," Dr. Masuda said, turning to face him. There seemed to be a look of worry on his supervisor's face.
"Largely...," Ames repeated curiously.
"Don't get me wrong, son. This is impressive," Dr. Masuda said, pointing her hand toward the projection of the presentation. "Very impressive, actually. But do you realize how dangerous this can be?"
"I only want to help," Ames reasoned. "I don't care about profits."
"Your competitors will," Dr. Masuda said, holding up a counting finger. "You are a doctoral candidate still. However, this thing you've developed will not be treated as just another PhD thing. There will eventually be competitors, whether you like it or not. Whether you're competing or not. And you will have many. They will try to either win you over or beat you in your own game. That's number one."
Ames had been hoping for a more enthusiastic response from his supervisor, but here he was, being told that he had created something that, perhaps, could be something else.
Dr. Masuda raised another finger.
"Number two is going to be tricky, but you cannot dismiss this possibility: what if they try to emulate what you've done to develop something else? Something that you never wished to inspire?"
"You're starting to scare me, Doctor. Why do I feel like I'm not getting enough support here?"
"Ames. You know how I see you. I think you are a brilliant intellectual. I think The Mastermind is a great leap forward. I also think that this could endanger you. You put this out there, they're not just going to come for The Mastermind. They'll come for you, too. They'll also have numbers in mind."
"I can defend myself...," Ames said to her firmly, not breaking eye contact. He'd never had to be in a battle of wills with his supervisor like this before. Dr. Masuda had always been a great help. She'd been his inspiration since the earliest days of his journey in the School of Education. Ames had always looked up to her intelligence, to her spirit, and to her ability to bring out the best in her students and her colleagues. She had dedicated a huge part of her life for a mission that Ames had also since adapted. She had always believed in him. He needed her to believe in him now. "I can defend my brainchild. Just like you did yours."
Dr. Masuda's serious gaze into his eyes felt like a long and critical journal read. The good supervisor eventually took a deep breath before looking away in thought.
"I care about you, kid," Dr. Masuda said, using her motherly voice, which she always used whenever she detected that Ames wasn't feeling so well. "I care about you more than any research and any dissertation you can dish out of that crazy brain of yours. I have faith. But I also have to make sure that I'm not throwing you to the lions' den. My time was different."
"Well, how do I get it protected?" Ames inquired. That had been a bit of a downer start. He really wanted The Mastermind to be put out there. So many people could be helped in getting the education they wanted or, better yet, needed. "Just imagine how many people this can help, Doc. A lot. So many kids nowadays have access to technology and the internet. Now, they can have a school made for them. That adjusts for them."
It took a while before Dr. Masuda could say something. A sudden eureka moment came upon her face, much to Ames's curiosity.
"TomorrowCon," Dr. Masuda mumbled, blinking into realization. "That's right. TomorrowCon is your best bet."
"TomorrowCon?" Ames asked, intrigued.
"It's a convention sponsored by the school and Wang Industries...," Dr. Masuda started.
'Wang Industries?' Ames thought. 'Eliza hasn't told me about this.'
"It's about over a month's time from now," Dr. Masuda went on. "We will have honorary guests: high-ranking officers from the Department of Science and Technology, the Department of Education, and very important political figures. I believe in The Mastermind, but when I look at it, I see it in ways which can backfire on you as much as it compensates for what you've done. You want to protect your brainchild? Demonstrate at TomorrowCon. Blow the guests away. Get government protection. I can't believe I'm saying this, considering you know how I feel about governments in general, but that's the only bet you've got left that you can, at least, trust better than a corporation."
Ames didn't know what to make of it. He moved over to the table nearby and rested his buttocks against it, supporting his weight with his hands on the surface.
"That's even more daunting," Ames commented, his eyes lingering on the presentation before him. "The government protection thing that you mentioned..."
"Everything is daunting when you let it go," Dr. Masuda replied, walking over to the projector's switch and turning it off. Her heels made clicking noises. It was rather fitting for her character. She then turned to face him again. "I'm just suggesting out of concern, Ames. It's just that I dread the possibility of seeing your creation become something else. Especially since you've mastered Synapse."
"Demonstrating at TomorrowCon for demonstration's sake, I can get behind," Ames decided, sighing. He could definitely do that. He was, after all, trying to promote something the public could use for educational access. Asking for government protection, however, felt like a stretch to him. At least, it felt early and sounded demanding. He would have to think about that very carefully.
Ames had a vision. A very specific vision for the future of The Mastermind. He wanted to make sure that if the program ever flew, it flew to his instruction. He didn't want the program to be used in any different way. If other forces would indeed threaten the program's integrity, he would run away with The Mastermind for as long as he could.
"I know it's wrong for me to override you," Dr. Masuda clarified, clasping her hands before herself. "Believe me, if things had been different in this country, I would've been more confident about the people you're going to be exposing this thing to."
"I'm stubborn, but I do know when to be considerate, Doc," Ames said. "I'll demonstrate The Mastermind. After that, I will see what happens."
Dr. Masuda nodded understandingly after a while.
"You remind me so much of myself, boy," the supervisor remarked after a while, a smile curving up her lips. It was always quite an image whenever Dr. Masuda smiled, especially with her preference for maroon and other dark-colored lipsticks. Not to mention, her regal gaze and sophisticated demeanor. Considering her reputation, her assessment was more than a compliment to Ames. "The grit is there. The knowledge is there. The potential is there. The stubbornness, too. Hmph."
"I need you to believe in me on this one, Doc," Ames said. "You say that I remind you of you. I want to prove to you that you can believe in me. In my own integrity. In my vision."
"Okay," Dr. Masuda said before looking down at her pocket watch. "You have a class coming up. And a demonstration in the near future, too."
Ames nodded in response, pushing off of the table.
"I will trust your approach, Ames," Dr. Masuda continued. "Okay then. Let's take this on step by step. I think your decision is good. You just have to remember that you are about to promote a drastic change. Some people don't like change, no matter a better promise. Sometimes, people get comfortable with the things they may or may not know to oppress them. Are you ready for that?"
"I have to be," Ames said.
"Tsk," Dr. Masuda reacted. It was mildly intimidating. "Stop trying to convince me, and convince me."
'Well then,' Ames thought. 'I got this. I've been working so hard for this.'
He looked his supervisor right in the eyes.
"I am," he spoke.
"Hmm," Dr. Masuda said, her head tilting in thought. "You're off to a good start."
With that said, Dr. Masuda made her way to the door.
"I'm going to be needing a large respondent count, Doc," Ames said as he followed her out of the conference room with his eyes.
"I suggest you double-time, Ames," Dr. Masuda replied, turning to him from beside a half-open doorway. "But I already know you will."
"I will," Ames said. "I won't disappoint you."
"Remember who you're doing this for, Ames," Dr. Masuda said correctively. "Do not disappoint them."
English Lit 1 Class
11:20 AM
Ames spent the rest of the morning teaching his first class for the day. As usual, the students had been such a welcome sight. They'd been participating quite well, and Ames couldn't have been happier that he was back in an environment wherein he felt he was the most productive. His two-week break had been such a breath of fresh air, and reporting to duty after that had been simultaneously pressuring and exciting.
He missed his students.
He'd just given them new books to read and critique as their homework. There had been no complaints so far.
After finishing his discussion of the first topic, he called for a short break.
"You are looking very good, Prof," Amanda commented, scanning him. She looked serious about it. "Could be some good news or recent research milestone? New skincare routine?"
"You look happy," Geraldine added, gesturing with her hand. "And it shows. I don't know how to explain it, but it's different, and it shows."
"Maybe I'm just glad to be back?" Ames suggested, matching their enthusiasm. "I haven't been in teacher mode in, like, two weeks."
"You look really happy, though," Amanda insisted. The rest of the class seemed to agree. "Like, really happy."
"A very "blooming" kind of happy," Kai said from the back. "A "somebody's making me happy" kind of happy."
"Kai, I love that you're finally reciting," Ames called out jokingly, prompting a teasing burst of laughter from the other students. "Just not during breaks, please. Where is that during actual class time, friend? But no. Are you kidding me? Blooming, really?"
"Oh, there it is!" Dante exclaimed, pointing at Ames's face excitedly.
"What?" Ames protested, feeling his face in curiosity. "You guys are acting sus'."
"It's the shine, Prof," Brighton joined in. Ames had been wondering when the kid would say something. He normally was quick to take his shot. "You have this different look in your eyes, and we know you hate contacts."
"Okay, now you're all creeping me out," Ames said, throwing up his hands in surrender. "I don't notice what you all are noticing."
"Denial is a dangerous thing...," Amanda mumbled teasingly, pretending to check her nails.
"I heard that, queen," Ames said to her. "I can't really deny anything I know nothing of."
"We're just really liking the vibes, Prof," Nigel explained. "It's nice. You look happy. But because of someone."
"Oh, yeah sure," Ames said quickly, hoping to put the awkward topic to rest. He'd never been so bothered by compliments before. "Me. Myself. I'm happy because of someone, and that someone is me."
"We mean someone else."
"That would be me from another universe in the multiverse. Technically, that is someone else. Put it to rest."
Before the gossip could go on any further, the alarm he had set to signal the end of the break rang up. He turned it off quickly, subsequently signaling the class to quiet down and put their focus back to the lesson.
"So...," he said. "I will be needing everybody's help for my research. It's going to be fun, I promise."
"How can we help?" Geraldine inquired.
"I'm going to be gathering data for an educational program that I created," Ames explained, his eyes scanning the class from left to right. "You can call it your personalized college experience. Just a test run of three stages of mock exams to demonstrate how the program works. What do you say?"
Nods of affirmation started popping up from his students.
"Good," Ames said, giving the surface of his desk a satisfied pat. "I can't wait for you to meet The Mastermind."
University Parking Lot
6:47 PM
Ames wondered if Max had been able to locate his car. It wasn't impossible, and Max had all the time in the world to do so. He also had the ability to wander about undetected. Plus, a red Ayame City sedan wouldn't be so hard to find.
Ames made his way to his car, noticing a male figure stepping out from behind it.
The figure waved at him. It was Max, looking pretty dapper in his stylishly casual style.
"You hungry?" Max called out. "You look like you've had a long day. I hope you ate the sandwiches I made you, 'cause they were hard to make."
He really looked quite dashing in his clothes.
"You look like you've come to pick me up," Ames commented as he approached his car. "Like you're the one who's gonna' be driving me."
"Fully Immersive Holographic Driving Simulations," Max shared, raising his arms and making steering motions. "All car types. Motorcycles, too. I can drive, actually, if only you'd let me."
Ames stopped just in front of the driver's seat door, staring at Max as he went on with his driving motions.
'He looks so cute,' Ames thought. Max had never looked sillier, and he just wasn't stopping.
"You know you look stupid doing that, right?" Ames asked, blinking at Max's antics.
"I know I look good...," Max replied, pretending to be a celebrity walking into an awards night. It was even worse than the last parody, but it also looked fitting. He actually used to be a celebrity. He looked like a celebrity. That made things worse. In a way. It had to be the gray blazer, white t-shirt, the non-prescription glasses, and the faded blue jeans. Max looked undeniably handsome, which Ames decided should be worse. For some reason.
"What's the itinerary, boss?" Ames asked, leaning on the roof of the car and feigning impatience.
"We're going for takeout," Max replied with exaggerated emphasis, mirroring Ames's pose on the car. "And then I'd like you to meet my friends."
'Meet his friends?' Ames thought, not quite sure about what he had just heard.
"What do you mean?" Ames asked. He wasn't sure that was a good idea. Apart from the fact that he had given Max a special pass for a very specific reason, and that he had not yet introspected on how his general views on superhumans had changed, Max was still keeping up the pretense that he had died.
"I mean," Max replied, being consciously overly dramatic with his speech. "We're going to the Hall of Heroes."
The Noble Ground
Hall of Heroes
Falco Central Park
7:30 PM
The Hall of Heroes looked majestic, as always. The landscaping of the Noble Ground, alone, was already a tourist attraction. The tall alabaster statues that resembled all the publicly documented superhuman Enforcers so far lined up the cement walkway that led to the actual building. Each statue depicted the represented hero in the middle of an action that had since become associated with them, and the statues were illuminated by colored lights that matched their suits' respective color schemes.
Max walked forward, face mask and eyeglasses on, Ames keeping up beside him. The path's sides were lined with ground lights, adding better illumination to the statues that segmented them.
There were other people around, most of whom were busy getting their photographs around the statues of the heroes they admired.
"It's like walking in a royal garden," Ames commented. Max observed as Ames gazed upon the statues they walked past.
Max could see Battle Cry's statue depicting her in combat, posed aggressively as she unleashed her powerful voice in a focused funnel of concussive force. He could see Sun Dancer conveyed to be in flight, arms outstretched, serpentine flames around him. There was also Channel's statue, showing him in his erect and snappy posture with his arm outstretched, hand aimed forward as if channeling stored energy.
They continued their walk forward, coming across statues of late Enforcers. Max had worked with all of them before, and he had developed quite a bond with them prior to their deaths. Two of them, in particular. His gaze lingered on the sculpture depicting both the late Dragon and Midnight Sambac. Out of all the friendships he'd had in his career as an Enforcer, Dragon and Midnight Sambac had been his closest.
The late Dragon, a shapeshifter, could transform, both in part and in full, into a red draconic reptilian. Her ability to emit radiation had been both an asset and a risk for Division. Meanwhile, Midnight Sambac, a teleporter and atom manipulator who had also been called The Black Sampaguita at some point, had been wrongfully branded as a black witch multiple times because of the vast scope and high level of her powers. She had never had a peaceful career, but she had always been kind, especially to Max.
Every harsh truth that Max had learned about being an Enforcer, he'd gotten from them. They used to be his mentors, and during their time as parental figures to him, they'd been so patient in helping him hone and master his powers.
"You seem preoccupied by them," Ames remarked, tapping his arm.
"My mentors back in the day," Max replied, focusing on the path stretching out before him again. "They were like mothers to me."
"Were?"
"They're deceased."
"Oh. I'm sorry, Max."
"It's fine. In our world, death is always a possibility."
"Hey," Ames protested, gripping Max's forearm rather tightly. "You're not in that world anymore."
"I stand corrected, boss," Max replied, catching sight of something he'd always found a little too extravagant as he spoke. "Ah, crap."
Up ahead was a large marble fountain with gold exoskeletal detailing, baskets of funeral flowers in various sizes following the circumference of the fountain wall. It served as the heart of the roundabout. The statue that stood at the center of the intricately designed fountain was his own. Of his past Alpha self, specifically. Channel had already taken the title, and Max figured that it was about time his friend got the promotion. Soon enough, it would be Channel's statue on that fountain as the new Alpha.
He heard Ames snort, obviously already noticing the Alpha statue.
"That's you, isn't it?" Ames inquired quietly, pointing up at the statue as they got closer to it.
"Don't rub it in," Max replied. "I hated that thing with a passion."
"Giving me Zeus vibes there," Ames pressed on, making circular gestures as he continued to describe the statue, which depicted the Alpha flying upward, cape seemingly whipped to the side by the wind, lit dramatically by golden lights at the base of the statue and on certain body parts of the main sculpture itself. "I see the Mount Olympus theme. It's very self-indulgent but well-done."
"Stop it...," Max said, sneaking a pinch on Ames's arm. "I hate it."
"I know my opinions on superhumans in general," Ames said more seriously just as they reached the fountain. "But I also know my opinions about that guy up there."
Max allowed Ames to turn him so they were face-to-face.
"That guy up there's a really good guy," Ames said, pointing at the statue as he spoke. "He's already a very good guy now, and he's not even wearing a cape yet. Or anymore. Hopefully, not anymore."
"Hopefully...," Max repeated. He understood where Ames was coming from, and the guy had good reason. He was just glad that Ames believed in him. Max didn't know if Ames's opinions on the others would ever change. For now, he only had himself to be concerned about when it came to Ames's opinion, and he was doing well so far.
One very good way for him to make sure that their relationship remained the same was for him to be honest about what he knew. He still hadn't told Ames about what he'd recently discovered, so he'd figured that he would take the guy to the place where things could be better understood.
"There's something that you need to know, Ames."
"Okay."
"Let's take this conversation inside."
Main Building
Hall of Heroes
7:42 PM
They roamed the interior of the main building, admiring the sculptures that depicted the heroes in action throughout the decades. Every chamber had been assigned a decade of superhuman operations, showing how covert the whole thing used to be. The 1940s chamber was definitely nostalgic, but there were a few key things stated in the informative signage that were false.
There were a lot of people in each chamber, and Max tried his best to stay low-key as he walked with a guiding arm around Ames's shoulder.
"You said you wanted to tell me something," Ames reminded him.
"Mhmm," Max said, taking Ames to a black-and-white photo gallery named the Genesis Board.
Max pointed to a photo of the laboratory.
"I was in there," he said in a hushed voice. "Many of us Ravens who survived. For exposure to the Creaton. And more."
"And more?"
"We weren't just exposed. We were also administered with it."
Ames squinted at Max, a subdued look of disgust in his expression.
"Administered? They liquefied it?"
"The Creaton had the ability to affect quantum particles, atoms, cells, et cetera," Max explained. "Including its own. They'd already discovered that they could liquefy it when they ran the procedures on us."
"It must've hurt so much...," Ames commented. "I'm picturing it better now."
"The radiation exposure made it feel like I was being bent and stretched out," Max recalled, remembering what had occurred in his dream. It was only the tip of the iceberg. The whole procedure was much more painful. "It felt like I was undergoing a really complex surgery everywhere inside of me without the anesthesia. Rough repair."
"Why did they do that?"
"First exposure, like I mentioned before, repaired and changed how our bodies and minds worked to prepare them," Max said, pointing to the photo of the Creaton. "The administration added the powers, and they were unique to every subject. Hence, my light powers. Electromagnetic radiation. Flight. And the empathy I developed in the first exposure? It developed further after the administration. Gave me pathokinesis. Allowed me to control other people's emotions. Of course, you had to qualify. Before you had to worry about qualifying, you had to survive the pain of the exposure."
Ames gave the Genesis Board another scan, a frown forming on his face as his eyes traveled.
"Not all of you made it, huh?"
"No."
"That's horrible."
"Some didn't survive the pain. Some survived but didn't qualify. Some, like myself, managed to get through all the way."
"You make the word "qualification" sound very insidious," Ames commented, looking at him curiously.
"That's what they used," Max answered, walking off with Ames to the next chamber to avoid the arrival of more visitors. They walked into the 1950s chamber, but there wasn't anything particularly interesting in it. At least, none involving superhumans. "Malign was actually a consultant in the program. He was still just Doctor Elmer Perez then."
"The irony..."
"And Dicoy was a subject like me," Max added. They stopped by a wall listing the names of all the publicly documented Enforcers via engraving. It wasn't exactly a big space, but it also hadn't been updated yet. The New Age Initiative Enforcers had not yet been added to the list. "You wouldn't find his name there, though."
"Why is that?" Ames inquired, reaching out to touch the engravings.
"He qualified for the exposure and the administration," Max recalled. "But the administration did nothing to him. His powers did not show. He became very disoriented and hard to understand. It was almost impossible to communicate with him for a long time."
"But he made it past the exposure?"
"Uh huh. Regrew his arm, healed his wounds, erased his scars. He looked like his original pre-exposure self, inside-out, just like the rest of us who survived it. Even enhanced his intelligence."
"That's weird. What did they do with him?"
"First, we broke apart. Dicoy and I parted on terrible terms. He blamed me for what happened to him, but I managed to forgive him eventually."
"That's rough, Max," Ames said. "Again, you don't have to share anything too painful."
"It's alright," Max replied reassuringly. "This leads into something that involves you. I'm just setting you up."
Ames took a contemplative breath, giving Max an inquisitive look.
"I'm intrigued and nervous, both at the same time," Ames remarked.
"Dicoy was kicked out of the program," Max revealed. "He was declared an experimental failure and removed from the picture by an expensive contract that reduced him to strict silence. He could never talk about anything, including being a Raven. All he could say was that he was a soldier."
"Cover-up," Ames pointed out, distracted by the level of guest activity in the 1960s chamber.
Max brought Ames over to the next chamber. The acceleration of Division operations had picked up during the 1960s because of new programs and developments in the training of Enforcers.
"You know how common that is."
"Very much so. Just not the specifics."
"Dicoy had no choice but to comply," Max carried on, entering the 1960s chamber with Ames still settled in his arm. There were more statues and statuettes in this chamber, and there were more photographs evidencing the events. There were also more documents put on display. It had truly been quite a time for the Enforcement Program. "But the choices he made after—starting a new life, marrying a lovely woman, having a child, et cetera—were his own."
"You know his family, Max?"
"I barely remembered their faces. Didn't notice. Now, I do."
"That's an interesting answer...," Ames said, looking slightly perplexed. Max hadn't meant for his words to sound so grim or suggestive, but they were already out there. "I'm not going to like where this leads, huh?"
Max actually hesitated for a while because of the question, but he was already so close.
He figured they could use some air. The chambers were a little too crowded.
"No," he said, unable to hold eye contact. "But I want you to know that I'll be very truthful."
"I'm gonna' need some air, I guess."
"Yeah, I was thinking that, too."
The Roof Deck
Hall of Heroes
8:05 PM
Max leaned onto the surface of the half-wall that secured the roof deck. Ames was doing the same beside him. The area wasn't crowded, and Max had found a good space for Ames and himself where they couldn't be bothered. Up above was a cloudy sky and a moon partly obscured by clouds. The night wind was chilly, however. It should, at least, make things somewhat comfortable.
"The brains in Division," Max resumed with his narrative. "They've been trying for years to find a way to better harness the Creaton's power, make it controllable. Temporary, even. Control it to make it turn on and off at their will."
"Typical of humankind to put limits on the unlimited and measurements on the immeasurable," Ames commented. "Just to grasp the elements that are bigger than us. Makes you wonder just how wrong we could've been all along, all the while thinking we'd always been right."
"Big ambitions can always go south."
"I bet they did."
"You know, it's such a conceptually painful thing to ponder," Max directed the flow of the conversation to the big news. "How the pursuit of knowledge can bring the best and the worst out of people."
"I try to keep my feet on the ground."
"As you should."
"I don't want to end up being the reason why people get hurt, and I know how ambitious I can get."
"Sometimes, people get hurt, yes," Max commented, turning to face Ames. The glow of the floor lights and the lights segmenting the half-wall cast a bit of a ghastly illumination on them. "Like Dicoy. When he was killed. That was, um, in 1992."
When Ames slowly turned to look at him, Max could feel not only a spark of familiarity and intuition from the guy, he could also feel the suspicion that was creeping its way throughout Ames's body.
"In 1992?" Ames inquired, head tilting in tension. "Did you just say he was killed? He didn't just die?"
"He was killed," Max confirmed. He was getting so close to dropping the news. He hoped Ames would be able to process it without freaking out or anything of the sort. "By Malign."
Ames took a deep breath.
Max could feel the suspicion and tension inside Ames growing stronger.
"Dicoy's not the real name," Ames said a moment later, a gulp following his words. "Isn't it?"
"No, Ames," Max answered honestly. "His name is Benedicto. Benedicto Montenegro."