The Phenomena of Fireflies and Star... - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Faculty Room
Gonzales University of Arts and Sciences
9:40 AM
Ames rolled up his sleeves as he walked into the large faculty room. The guard gave him a friendly greeting salute as he came in, which he returned in kind. The large white room was well lit, and the other teachers seemed to be huddled at one particular table. They seemed rather busy, whispering among themselves. Ames's table was conveniently close to their area, and so he could easily eavesdrop. He'd always enjoyed the company of his co-teachers. Gladly, they loved him back. Many of them were already doctorate degree holders, and they made sure to support those who were still on the journey. Two wide sections of about fourteen rows of teachers' cubicles each filled most of the space. It was always cute to see how teachers personalized their tables. As for Ames, as surprising as it was for most people, he'd always had a thing for the gothic aesthetic. He had to thank his high school and college days for it. He used to be a total goth, from the black clothes to the buckled platform boots to the makeup. His eventual college graduation had tamed him. He did, however, keep the penchant for black in his currently more casual fashion sense and his old clothes in a separate cabinet.
Ames walked through the pathway cutting between the cubicle sections toward his row.
One of the teachers spotted him coming close and waved at him.
"Doc," Leo, one of the teachers and one of his relatively close friends in the faculty, called out to him. They'd made it a habit to refer to both doctorate degree holders and doctoral candidates as Doc. "Have you heard about this?"
"What's all this about?" Ames asked, gesturing with a pointed finger as he joined the others.
"We're not quite sure just how valid this is," Leo continued, reaching over one of the short cubicle walls and ushering Ames closer to the gathering. "It's either a really elaborate conspiracy theory or a very valid warning."
'Conspiracy theory?' Ames repeated in his mind. 'The teachers here like to gather and gossip, and yet still retain some sort of individual objectivity. Right now, they're looking stressed out. I've never seen them this stressed out over what can be a mere conspiracy theory.'
"I kinda' can't see," Ames grunted as he tried to lean over the others.
"So, like, basically," Petra, one of their youngest teachers, poked out from the gathering of huddled adults to respond. "There's an ongoing hostage crisis in Maravilla Intersection, confirmed, and has been going on for some time now."
"Meanwhile, other superhuman attacks are being expected for the day," Scott, another teacher and close friend of Ames's, added.
"Expected?" Ames repeated, giving up on his attempt to lean over the crowd and resorting to leaning against his nearby cubicle instead. "Like, how'd they get to that conclusion?"
"You know the Severance Seven's seal, right?" Leo asked, scrunching his nose in uncertainty.
"Yeah, why?" Ames asked, pulling out his own phone to go to the internet and do his own search. He found a good picture. The seal was quite the composite image. There appeared to be so many elements that only merged in terms of pattern, but the independent symbolisms of which, all unknown to most people, didn't seem to make any sense.
"Well, just today, certain big-named buildings have had their walls tagged," Leo went on. "With the Severance Seven's seal. Graffiti-style. Red paint, of all paint colors."
"Could be some pranksters riding on Ga--," Ames stopped himself just in time. Nobody seemed to have caught his look of alarm. "Alpha's MIA."
"Yeah," Petra said in consideration. "Except the same graffiti was seen on the roof of the bus being taken hostage right now."
"Well, crap," Ames commented, turning toward his work desk for a while. His doctorate study books lined up the front side of his cubicle, the table of which he had covered with a black cloth with a scratchy underbelly. He had a moon lamp placed on top of a lavender-painted DIY stand. He clicked it on, allowing its soft glow to wash over the black cloth.
Ames had a sense of where the conversation was going.
"You said "big-named" buildings, so I'd assume you're referring to industry leaders, right?" Ames inquired, turning toward the gathering again. "Doc Leo?"
"Sharp thinking," Dr. Anita Masuda, Doctor of Education and Ames's supervisor, commented from the crowd. He hadn't even noticed her in the gathering. "Yes and no. Some definitely belong in the private sector, though."
"Oh, hi, Doc!" Ames grinned apologetically as he greeted.
"Hey, son," his supervisor replied abruptly before being engulfed in the commotion again.
"We got Omni," Leo began, looking at Ames emphatically, as if asking for additional info.
"Tech development," Ames described.
"We also got IlluManila."
"Power and electricity."
"The Sansibar Prison."
"Penitentiary."
"The Aviary."
"Airline."
"Casa Superiora."
"Hotel."
"MultiMart."
"Retail. Shipping, too."
"Saint Raphael the Archangel's Hospital."
"No way. Even that?"
"I wouldn't put it past the Seven. Super-terrorists be super-terrorizing. Bunch of assholes."
"That's all seven, right?" Ames asked, crossing his arms as he tried to picture out what could happen if there were more to this.
'Seven attacks, seven establishments?' he thought. 'Is that a thing?'
It eventually dawned on him.
"Why do I feel like we're involved in this narrative?" Ames inquired. That surely made the others look toward him rather strangely. "We're not tagged, too, aren't we? I mean, we are the top university. Not bragging, just stating."
"No, we're not," Petra replied. That response had taken a while. An uncomfortable while.
Ames normally reserved emotional investment until certain factors came into play, but he had to admit that some truth to what could be just another conspiracy theory would be very timely and convenient for the people who didn't deserve said convenience.
"We weren't concerned until some dots were connected," Petra continued. She then started pressing on her phone for a bit. Ames's phone rang up after a second. "Just sent you something so you can see for yourself."
"The Legion attacked Omni after they partnered with Kalasag," Scott took his turn to speak. "Kalasag being the manufacturer of most of The Legion's armament. The terrorist group saw it as defection from a clandestine agreement. The Legion has assisted the Severance Seven before, although their relationship is rumored to be unstable."
"Current was an electrical engineer for Liwanag in the 1990s," he carried on. "Liwanag, now known as IlluManila. He was a whistleblower. Blew the whistle on a higher-up so that said higher-up couldn't blow the whistle on him. Got "cleaned" out and covered up for that, but he's very much alive now, and he's very angry."
"Enzyme is an escaped convict of The Sansibar. Not much is known about him except that he's vicious. Emerald was a flight attendant for Mariposa Airlines and a harassment and defamation victim at the hands of the late Ernesto Divino, former CEO of The Aviary, and his son Randall Divino, current CEO."
'The plot thickens,' Ames thought, listening intently.
"Kid Saturn was a bellboy for the Casa until he was framed for the murder of one of its socialite guests. Horsepower was the circus superstar, Waldo Morillo..."
"Horse Man," Ames recalled.
"MultiMart wanted to feature a semi-enclosed horse-riding area back in the early 1990s, but when their main freighter sank, Morillo's horses were abandoned and left to sink as per the instruction of then CEO, Ramon Colante. Man got distraught. Real bad."
"Poor horses," Ames commented as he took in the information.
"Alonsawa was a nurse in Saint Raphael's. One night, his family became victim to a discrimination crime and had to be rushed to the hospital. The now very fired former Saint Raphael Vice President had a dark history with Alonsawa's family and pulled the strings to deprive his family of assistance."
"What about Malign?" Ames finally asked, remembering the leader of the Severance Seven and realizing his absence in the discussion. "He's not an active participant in this?"
"Well, as it turned out," Dr. Masuda spoke up. It was interesting of her to speak on the telepath. "It's debatable. But we're being careful..."
Something clicked inside Ames's head, but he wasn't about to dive into the theory fully just yet.
"Why do we have to be careful?" Ames inquired, not really meaning to interrupt. "Is he linked to us?"
"He goes way back," Dr. Masuda replied, clearing her throat. "He got his doctorate here. He taught here, too. Until he was found guilty of kidnapping and killing students. There was neither any discernible theme nor pattern then. It was surprising to everyone, allegedly, as he was rather charismatic."
'Son of a bitch is more associated with me than I thought,' Ames couldn't help but feel himself heat up inside as the thought replayed in his mind. There was a gradual increase of boiling in his blood. He wondered if he was able to keep a straight face. He must have, but he couldn't hide how much he had turned red.
"Ames," Dr. Masuda called out to him, realizing what was going on. She knew the whole story very intimately. She'd been incredibly supportive and empowering throughout Ames's earlier stage of grief.
"We're not tagged, right?" Ames gulped first before speaking, trying so hard to conceal his worry. "We're going by the evidence we have, just like we always do. And we're not tagged, right?"
"No," Leo replied for everybody, who had started glancing at each other, their worried expressions staying on their faces.
"So he might not attack," Ames said, looking down at the floor to try and sweep away his bad thoughts. His day had been turning out strangely well despite how it had started. Until now. Gabriel had been a disturbance, but at least he'd been nothing but kind. Unexpectedly having to deal with him had surprisingly been refreshing to Ames in the end. The information Ames had just been exposed to, however, overshadowed that really quickly, and it wasn't even confirmed yet.
He hoped it wasn't confirmed. He hoped it wouldn't be.
"He might not," Dr. Masuda echoed. Ames gazed upon her and found her sincerely looking concerned. "But then, at this point, who knows what else he might do?"
Ames could only nod. It was becoming uncomfortable for him. He knew they'd rather stick with their gut. Ames had the thought of Malign really attacking the school acting as a competent counterweight to his stubborn blocking of the possibility. He knew he couldn't just brush that off.
But for the sake of his sanity and ability to teach his students in the next few minutes with a clear mind, he had to put the terrible thought aside. Just for a few hours.
He sincerely prayed that Malign wouldn't attack the school, though. He knew the scope of the superhuman's power.
A little too well.
"Excuse me, I have a class," he finally said, forcing a smile and walking briskly out of the faculty room.
English Lit 1 Class
10:04 AM
The class wasn't exactly any more optimistic. In fact, they seemed more worried and more conclusive of the viral theory. They looked very concerned. Ames stood before them, hands clasped on the backrest of his seat. His eyes scanned the room. Some of the students waited for him to say something. Some were too bothered to focus.
'Gabriel,' Ames thought. 'Yeah, I think we might need Alpha back for just a bit.'
'I know you've been wanting out for probably longer than I've ever existed, but now might not be the best time. I kind of feel responsible for enabling you.'
'If what everybody's afraid of turns out to be real, I will go down in history as the person who gave you an out. And you'll be the hero who abandoned the battle and possibly the war. Figuratively speaking, if not all literally.'
"I'm gonna' need all of you to be brave and not let this dampen your spirits," Ames said to his English Literature 1 class.
"Alpha's gone, Prof," Brighton pointed out. "He could well be dead."
Ames took a moment to think. Knowing exactly what the superhuman was up to made it heavy for him to pretend he didn't. Likewise, it was heavy on his heart how he had emotionally resonated with and enabled what could end up being Gabriel's most selfish act ever when he could've proposed a bit of an adjustment to it: deal with the Severance Seven first, and then retire.
"There are other Enforcers, right? Just waiting for their chance at promotion?" Ames asked. This wasn't something Gabriel had told him explicitly. Rather, it was old news. He could be wrong. He could be very inaccurate. Division might've already stopped making superhumans. "For sure, he's been replaced."
"Malign's the worst, Prof," Nigel said. "I can't begin to describe how scary he really is. Alpha's the most experienced. If he does get replaced, who replaces him? Who qualifies?"
"I have no idea," Ames replied a little helplessly. This whole buzz about superhuman drama had gotten a little too old. Then again, Ames knew he should probably start considering that the concerns of his co-teachers and his students could be valid. They could definitely be. He hoped they wouldn't be. "Look here, kids. God forbid, we get attacked here, I promise you I will protect you."
Ames pondered upon his words, realizing how they had first come out as a surrender and how they had become more determined the more he had spoken.
"I can't do much," Ames went on, staring at his students right in their eyes. "But I got a pepper spray and barely any sleep, and I won't hesitate to blind anybody if they threaten you. It's not hard for me to do that when necessary. Am I clear?"
The students stared at him understandingly, slightly surprised by his strong choice of words. He was normally more considerate with his wording. It was just that he was tired of being worn down by superhuman talk. He wanted to make something clear: he wasn't about to let anything bad happen to his students.
With everything he had lost due to things he couldn't control, he'd since sworn to be more than just the teacher his students needed. Working hard to bring out the best in people had been his mission since his youth, and all the pain he had endured throughout his journey had only reinforced his determination to carry out what he'd decided to do to retain some purpose in this world.
He loved his students.
Their potential gave him a purpose, and that purpose was to make sure he molded them to be their best, to thrive in the apex of their capabilities.
And even farther beyond that, he saw his job as some sort of parenthood.
He loved that about his job, and he appreciated how he was loved back by his students for that. Or respected highly, at least.
Thus, he would do his best on that "parenthood" for his students' sake.
"Am I clear?" Ames repeated more assertively, demanding non-verbally for his students to strengthen their center and keep a focused head.
"Yes, Prof," Nigel replied, followed by the others.
"Good," Ames said sharply, nodding with emphatic slowness as he swept over the class with his gaze. "Let the class begin."