It was midday, and Vivian sat alone on a knoll. The sun shone above, and a crisp breeze kept cool and fresh air circulating. Vivian had come to a field of grass, a field she considered hers, although Ollyria had no private land. Still, she had been coming to this same field since she was a child, and that gave her a sense of ownership over it. That was not something she ever expressed to anyone else, including her parents. Doing so would have been a mark against her.

  When she was young, Vivian would run through the grass of this field until she became lost, then twirl upwards into the air to see her parents sitting together not far. Now that Vivian was a bit older, she was the watcher. She loved how this particular grass waved and undulated like the sea. It was a soothing sight to her. The trees on each side of her private grass sea swayed as well, a constant hushing sound generated by the leaves brushing against each other.

  That morning, she had breakfast with her parents. Her father was full of excitement, her mother a quiet calm. That was them in a nutshell. Both asked her what she was going to do with her time left. She had decided on the field, and to the field she had gone. It could have been any other idyllic day in paradise. It almost made her wonder if she should really be leaving.

  The one thing that kept her from fully enjoying the day was the mix of thrill and panic about how it would end. In just a few short hours, she’d be boarding a ship that would deposit her on Earth. It would not be Vivian’s first time to the planet of her other species, but it would be the longest, the next time she’d be back on her birth-planet as of now unknown.

  This plan was in the works even before the tragic devastation had beset the humans, although perhaps that was the last push. The Government had always been particularly lax with Vivian, for some reason. Almost certainly her unique nature as a half breed. Ollyrians widely did not leave their solar system, except on matters of diplomacy and policing their own. There had been debates about seeing this cultural policy changed. The tempo of the debate had increased with the arrival of astronaut Roland Palmer and the discovery of the Ollyrian’s genetic cousins, the humans. Vivian’s father was the only non-Ollyrian who lived among them. He had always pushed for Vivian to be a child of two worlds. A very intelligent man, he had raised her bi-lingual and taught her as much Earth culture and history as he knew. Her previous visits to the planet had been brief and distant, her nature hidden from the common people. This time would be different. This time, they would know her.

  Her field watching was interrupted by a figure coming down to her from out of the sky, floating upright with one foot raised slightly over the other. Vivian did her best to shade her eyes and see who approached. She soon recognized it to be Noru, one of her best friends. He came floating down, feet bare, his loose white clothing matching his white hair on his head and sprouting from his face. He was a handsome lad, and had many girls’ attention, but to Vivian he had always been just a friend.

  His toes graced the ground first as he gently turned and eased himself down beside her.

  “This is how you’re spending your last day here? Just staring?”

  Noru spoke Ollyrian Standard, the only remaining language of the planet after the Cultural Unification long before their time. His tone was jokey, as it usually was, but Vivian knew he wasn’t mocking her. Noru found her curious, as most full-blooded Ollyrians did.

  “Mhm.”

  Noru crossed his arms over his knees. “What are we staring at?”

  There was nothing particular about this place except that it was hers. Ollyria was a pastoral planet, its people not having much need for cities when anywhere could be reached by anyone under their own power within hours at most. There were probably thousands of fields like it.

  “Only memories.”

  Noru rocked his body gently, swaying like the vegetation.

  “No one will judge you if you don’t want to go through with it.”

  “Why would I not go through with it?” Her tone might’ve been defensive.

  “I don’t mean to offend your other half, but Earth is a savage place I hear. They are not even members of the Galactic Cooperative.”

  “Neither is Ollyria,” Vivian countered.

  “For entirely different reasons,” her friend said with a look and tone that suggested she well knew this. He plucked a few green shoots and rolled them between his hands. “The Cooperative is well-meaning, but they still allow crime and war to fester within their broad borders. They can hardly be blamed, so many varied species and cultures trying to work together. We are a step more enlightened than them.”

  “I suppose they should all be isolated and brainwashed like we are,” Vivian said. She did not intend the sudden heat in her voice, and regretted her words immediately. It was not the day for this.

  Noru did not grow upset with her. She wished he would, at least once. Sometimes, it felt like Vivian alone felt emotions none of the rest of her people did. Ollyrians were so even-tempered, hard to perturb. Vivian felt a thing her father called passion. He alone related to her in that respect. Passion sounded dangerously close to a negative trait anti-harmony fugitives possessed. They were out there, in the vast blackness of space, Ollyrians who hewed to the violent old ways. The only Ollyrians sanctioned to use violence were the Justicars, the most disciplined and well-trained few of them, and only in select circumstances.

  “You know why we do not hurt,” Noru said. He sprinkled his blades back onto the ground. “One Ollyrian is a terror. All Ollyrians are an extinction.”

  Vivian could have said the mantra with him, but she didn’t. They were his parents’ words, and the words of all cultural enforcers across the planet. Her people almost seemed prideful that they could choose to upend the galaxy again and bring every planet back under heel, if only they lacked the moral fiber to not do so. Another one of Vivian’s personal shameful thoughts: Ollyrians had replaced martial superiority with moral.

  Vivian wanted Earth because she felt the human struggle latent in her genes. She wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to be important to them, like the previous Ollyrian heroes were. She did not want to be an anti-harmony criminal. But deep down, she wondered if she was not entirely built for peace. She couldn’t exactly name the craving she felt. Maybe humans had a word for it.

  Noru must have sensed her restless mood, if not the cause of it. He took her hand in his and floated into the air, pulling her up.

  “C’mon. This can’t be your entire final day. Let’s take a lap around the planet and visit the rest of our friends.”

  Vivian nodded, grateful for the idea, and followed him into the air.

  “I don’t mean to be negative about your journey,” he assured her as they flew together. “Maybe you can bring me back something nice from Earth. Something we don’t have here.”

  “I can do that,” Vivian said with a smile.

  . . .

  It was months into her time on Earth and at Rosewell, and Vivian had her first date.

  “Yes! Let’s goooo!” Terry hollered and clapped as his hockey team scored another goal. He was the only person in the chain sports bar to do so.

  He looked back at his date across their small table, chagrined.

  “Sorry. Gotta root for the home team. I shouldn’t have brought you here knowing I’d be distracted. Probably should have taken you to a nice restaurant.”

  Vivian shook her head, smiling at her handsome companion. She truly didn’t mind at all. The unhealthy pub food, the fruity drinks, even the waitress in a tight shirt and shorts buttering up Terry, they were all delightful humanisms. Earlier, she had put on her wig of plain brown hair, nervously approaching Grace to help her do so. Vivian didn’t live with any roommates that were closer at hand to bother. She had a whole dorm at Rosewell to herself. It was just easier, they said.

  “This place is great,” Vivian said for the dozenth time. Nice restaurant, dive bar, she really didn’t care. She wanted normalcy. She wanted to be a human teen girl with a human teen date. No cameras, no politicians. She had finally gotten a night off. She and Terry had been giving each other looks in class for weeks. He had such an amazing smile. It set her heart fluttering every time she saw it. He came up to her one day after science, asked her out, and she had nearly fainted.

  She started eating one of her buffalo chicken wings. Across their small table, Terry gave her a curious look.

  “What?” Vivian asked, hand over her mouth. “What am I doing wrong?”

  “You’re not doing anything wrong,” Terry said.

  “No, tell me!” Vivian insisted. “I want to fit in.”

  Terry released a goodhearted snicker.

  “Well, that’s a bone-in chicken wing. We kind of just eat the meat off it. Since most people can’t chew or digest bones.”

  Vivian slowed her crunching chew. She swallowed the meat and bone splinters already in her mouth, then set down her wing with the top half bitten clean off.

  “Whoops,” she said. She licked the sauce of her fingers, embarrassed. “Sorry. We don’t really eat meat on my planet. I’m new to this.”

  “It’s all good,” Terry said. He leaned his head on his wrists, admiring her. “How are you adjusting to being here in general?”

  What a good question. Vivian liked questions that made her think. She pondered it for a moment. Life on Earth was so… chaotic. People fought over such small things. Invisible lines people insisted were real. The rights to own things. Even just small things, like the contents of a purse. But it fascinated her. She had truly never felt so alive as when she was here. That distinctly human yearning was answered.

  “It’s interesting,” Vivian answered. She sipped her icy drink. “The work BASTION has me do is a lot, but I get it. I just wish I could be on the ground a bit more. Like the rest of you. I don’t want to be above people, you know? I know this planet needs someone to look up to right now, but I want them to look to the side and see me too. I don’t want to just be the new alien. I want to…” She looked at her hands. “Do human work.”

  She looked up from her palms, then shied away from Terry’s engaged expression.

  “Sorry, that’s like, so heavy for a first date.”

  “No, no. That’s great. I totally get it.” Terry said. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I think that’s so great you aren’t just above it all. It must be really easy to fly around the world and see us all as little worker bugs.”

  He had no idea. No Earthling did. The Ollyrians’ arrogance was well-placed. Few things on this planet were capable of hurting her. She’d live a few thousand more years than most anyone alive today, barring the supernatural exceptions. Despite being the same in size and appearance as humans, Vivian was essentially a giant stepping into a miniature kingdom. She had to be careful not to knock anything over. And this version of her, this her on a date with a human boy, it was hard to not feel like she had drawn a little face in marker on one of her giant fingers and held it in front of him to be a non-threatening teenage girl his size.

  That was how it was. Every handshake in front of cameras was to say, Hello, I’m nice and normal and it wouldn’t be easy for me level your city.

  Not that it was easy. The Government made sure of that. But how do you live in a place like this and not think about how breakable everything is? Stupid intrusive thoughts.

  “I wish I was better at making friends,” Vivian blurted out suddenly. The waitress in her tight clothes came back around to refill their waters at that exact moment. She gave a look to Terry like, this is the best you can do?

  Vivian shrunk in on herself. This was so not Terry’s problem. What was she doing? But he looked like she wanted her to continue, so she did.

  “I wish I was better at making friends with the other girls, I mean. Lucy, and Lauren, and Danielle, and Annabelle. They all seem nice. I don’t know how to approach them. I feel like they look at me like everyone else here looks at me. But aren’t I supposed to be more like them than everyone else? Isn’t Rosewell a place where we’re all not like anyone else?”

  “Yeah, that’s the idea I think,” Terry said.

  Vivian began nervously playing with her fake hair. “I dunno… I’m just kept away so often on world business… I wish I could be around more.”

  “I bet everyone wishes you were around more,” Terry said. “I know I do.”

  Vivian blushed deeply.

  “You should talk with them the next time you’re around the lounge or we have a fire,” Terry said. “They’re nice. Not all of them are my biggest fans, but they’re nice.”

  Vivian shared a chuckle with him. This was so nice. Even talking about her worries out there in the world, being here one on one with him was such a needed break.

  Their conversation drifted to other things. Terry told her about his childhood growing up in Ontario. He played a lot of hockey. He got his powers young, and started training young too. His mom was American. He wanted to be an American superhero, at least for a while. Vivian told him about Ollyria, even though she insisted it was a boring place where nothing happened. Still, he seemed delighted by every detail. Vivian found herself missing the place as she spoke of it. Its markets, its oceans, her quaint family home.

  They ordered another round of food, and for a night they were normal together.

  . . .

  Galaxy Girl shifted another slab of shattered building, easily fifty times the size of her. She didn’t even feel its weight.

  Day 3 of cleanup in Pacific City. Emergency response teams carefully picked their way through the wreckage of the Sorin Tower and its collapsed neighbor, both demolished suddenly by Pariah. They called to each other when they found people. Few survivors. Very few. Many bodies.

  Underneath this slab of debris was a small pocket. Inside, another body.

  The first child Vivian found.

  She set down the wreckage with care, making sure no one was near to crush. She knelt with all reverence. Gently, ever so gently, she cradled the girl in her arms. No older than five. Brown hair. Her face was mostly gone. Body punctured by twisted bits of metal. Vivian said nothing as she took the girl away from her improvised tomb. There was nothing to say. She did not fly back to the response site. She walked, despite it taking much longer and the path being difficult. She climbed where she had to, shifting the smaller body against herself. But she never took her feet an inch off the ground.

  Tents were set up in the streets, beside many emergency vehicles of all kinds. Stretchers were lined up at the ready, and unzipped black body bags waiting for their residents.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Vivian carried the girl in her arms to where medical personnel and coroners stood ready to receive. She didn’t look them in the eyes as she approached. She couldn’t. She knew they were staring at her, judgment heavy in each of their gazes. They stared at her white hair. They saw her the same as him.

  Pariah.

  His face and words had been the black hole in her mind from which no thoughts could escape. Why couldn’t she hit him? Why couldn’t she be strong enough?

  Then Terry would be alive.

  His words were poison, yet she couldn’t stop them from seeping into the darkest parts of her mind. She should have been strong enough to fight him. Who else on this planet had any chance to be? But Ollyrians couldn’t fight. It was wrong. It went against everything. But people died because she couldn’t intervene. But it was wrong.

  Home is wrong.

  The conflict tore at her on a molecular level.

  She set the girl’s body down where a doctor indicated. They set to work checking her over, even though she was clearly dead. They didn’t glance twice at Vivian, standing there dumbly in her costume, blood smeared on her hands, ash covering her from the search.

  She didn’t want recognition. She wanted to disappear. She only wore her costume because her handlers insisted she should. She was a symbol now.

  Vivian turned away to continue searching.

  “Galaxy Girl!”

  She halted, pivoting just enough to see Agent Carmichael waving to her. BASTION’s new liaison wore a hi-vis vest and hardhat over her dark agent’s suit. She picked her way around the emergency setup, avoiding the bodies and the people moving around them. Vivian waited, staring. Agent Carmichael came to her where she was at. She was young and pretty, her fair skin flecked with freckles and hair like golden wheat. She had a natural radiant smile, and pretty blue eyes.

  Under good circumstances Vivian might have liked her. These were not good circumstances. Holly’s constant enthusiasm seemed brittle, her sympathy performative. At least it did under Vivian’s poor mood. She endured the agent’s pestering as much as she had to, in order to continue helping.

  Holly held out a bottle of water. “Here, I brought you this. You must be parched.”

  Vivian accepted the bottle, twisting off the cap and chugging. Her powerful lungs crushed the plastic flat as she drank it down. She hadn’t realized how dry her throat was. She handed back the bottle and prepared to walk off again.

  “Wait, slow down!” Holly stopped her. Vivian let herself be turned around by the shoulders. Holly held her at arm’s length, trying to look supportive like a big sister might. “You’ve been at this for three solid days. Have you been resting at all? You need to take care of yourself.”

  Why, for your photoshoots? Vivian wanted to snap. Actually, I could do this for a month straight if I wanted to. Because I’m not weak like the rest of you.

  She took a deliberate breath. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t their fault. It was no one’s fault but the criminal. She wasn’t weak. Humans weren’t weak. Home wasn’t wrong.

  But every time she found another body, she fantasized about strangling Pariah until his eyes popped out of his skull. And then stomping on his skull until it shattered. For Terry. And the rest of them she couldn’t save. Those were bad thoughts. Very bad.

  “I’m good to keep going,” Vivian said. She tried to shrug the agent off. She could have, and it would have been so easy. But she was in her little human mindset right now, using only human strength. So she stayed in Holly’s grip.

  “I think it’s so kind of you to be so dedicated,” Holly said. She released the girl and laced her hands together. “We do have some other business today, however. Director Weiss would like to speak with you.”

  Director Weiss. Vivian knew her, of course. She had first met the director when she came down to Earth on her secret visits, BASTION being the only ones aware of her nature. Weiss had always seemed an impassive and logical woman. Vivian didn’t always like what she sensed behind the director’s eyes when she looked at the half-Ollyrian child. But, she supposed it was unavoidable. Weiss tended to get what she wanted.

  “Where?”

  “I thought we could go together, let’s—”

  “Just send me the coordinates,” Vivian interrupted. She would have never before dreamed of talking to anyone like that. She wasn’t herself right now. Her mind raged, and her heart drowned in sadness. Ice and fire battled within her, the logic of her mental conditioning battling her human nature to want war. It took everything inside of her, leaving her beyond drained.

  Holly’s expression faltered. “Okay. I’ll meet you there. We—”

  Vivian was gone as soon as she saw the coordinates hit her built-in wrist communicator. Pacific City vanished behind her. In a few minutes, she was above a stretch of pale salt flats. She saw a village of semi-permanent structures below. Guards and advanced weapons surrounded the perimeter. Vivian might have once approached with caution. Now she saw how pointless it was to pretend. She wasn’t human, at least not in any way that mattered. Why put on the act that any defense of theirs could give her pause? They had all seen what Ollyrians could do.

  She landed in the center of the structures, skidding to a halt across the ground. Twenty fully armored BASTION soldiers all pointed guns at her as she seemed to appear from nowhere. She paid them no heed.

  Weiss was nearby. The older woman zipped into her usual gray bodysuit. She did not show any outer perturbance at Vivian’s casual, almost reckless display of speed. Gritty wind from Vivian’s landing blew around her.

  “You wanted to talk?”

  “I did,” Weiss said. “I think it’s time you and I coordinate. And I think you should be here for this.”

  Vivian glanced around at the scene. In the clearing, two very different though equally ritualistic scenes were in the final touches of completion. The further one to the two of them was quite grisly. Vivian recognized the corpse of Seraph. She had met the guardian of Earth a few times.

  They had tied what was left of the hero to a wooden stake in the ground. Now, she could see the damage Pariah had done to her. Her jaw was shattered, hanging limp and dented. Her eyes had clouded over, her golden skin sunken and sallow. Two lengths of rope kept her upright, while bundles of sticks were piled around her feet.

  The other ritual in progress was a multilayered and segmented circle drawn in red on the ground. Various objects were placed in the sections of the concentric rings, each of them looking ominous in nature, including skulls and other bones. BASTION occultists wafted burning incense around the ritual circle, while others recited words from thick and yellowed texts.

  It took them a while longer to ready. Vivian stood with Weiss in silence. Eventually the occultists looked to their director, who gave the thumbs up.

  Seraph’s pyre was lit. The dry wood caught quickly, flames turning golden as they raced up the central stake and began roasting her body. Her fat hissed as the hero’s corpse curled open and charred. Black smoke fumed off her, the smell awful. Vivian covered her nose. Soon, Seraph’s body was more fire than flesh.

  For a moment, the burning of her body seemed barbaric and pointless. Vivian glanced at the director, waiting for some response from her. The woman only stared at the flames.

  A beam of golden light suddenly illuminated the scene from no discernable point, not even the clouds above. A naked woman floated downwards, borne by nothing but air. Her hair ebbed around her as if she was underwater. She touched ground beside her pyre, and the light she appeared from faded.

  Seraph was reborn, naked, exhaustion already etched in her features.

  A BASTION worker immediately stepped forward and helped her into a robe. Seraph tied it around herself.

  “I’m done,” the hero said to Weiss.

  “Seraph…” Weiss met her in the middle, slightly away from the pyre.

  “I’m done,” Seraph insisted. She tried to move around the director. “I’ve served. After the invasion, I said I was done. You said God brought me back because my might was needed. Well, you had my might. It did nothing. I’m joining a convent.”

  “You were just brought back again, for Christ’s fuckin’ sake!” Weiss argued. Vivian had never seen her so upset before. The director followed Seraph’s path towards one of the buildings. “You don’t think that means something? You think He brought you back so you can go sit around praying to Him?!”

  “I don’t care!” Seraph said, sweeping her arms. “I’m not Seraph anymore. I’m Gabrielle Herrerra, and I’m dedicating the new life I was given to quiet service.”

  She disappeared into a building, Weiss electing not to follow for now. It was about then when the other ritual activated.

  The summoning circle sprung to life with dark fire. The air above it wavered with heat. A figure burned into existence. Bruise-black fire etched the shape of a skeleton, kneeling, in the center of the circle. The flames solidified and died down until a skeleton was all that remained. Organs grew into the ribcage and torso, intestines spooling, muscle fibers soon following. The being rotted in reverse into existence. As skin grew over the frame, the woman crawled forwards out of the circle. Her dark hair spilled down. Hellsister rose to her feet, also stark naked.

  “Robe?” she asked expectantly. She snatched one from a meek worker who came scurrying forward. “I might only be sector-class, but that doesn’t mean you get to leave me hanging.” Hellsister sniffed her armpit as she dressed. “Great, I’m gonna smell like sulfur for a week…”

  Weiss came marching around. “Seraph quit.”

  “Is that an option? I quit too,” Hellsister said.

  “No you don’t,” Weiss said. “You’re back on duty.”

  “How was hell?” Hellsister muttered to herself as Weiss walked away. “Very warm, thanks for asking. I checked out the spot saved for you.”

  “I can hear you!” Weiss snapped.

  Hellsister waved over her shoulder as she shuffled away.

  Weiss rolled her eyes as she came around to Vivian again.

  “I suppose that’s the benefit of heroes with connections to afterlives,” Weiss said. “You can always pull them back. Getting them to work again is another matter…”

  “Seraph’s done?” Vivian asked.

  Weiss shrugged, but it seemed to bother her more than she wanted to let on.

  “If the angel wants to quit when the going gets tough, that’s on her. I suspected she might.”

  “And that’s why you brought me here.”

  It wasn't the first time the director brought this up. This time was different. She could sense it. Weiss wouldn't be dropping it now.

  The director eyeballed the girl in front of her.

  “Ollyria doesn’t own you,” Weiss said to her. She bent to be eye level with the teen. “You are a citizen of this planet too. You have rights here. You can be totally free. I have the best mind-technicians on Earth working for me.”

  Is that what the director thought she wanted? To be free? Even Vivian wasn’t sure what her desire was. She wanted Terry back. She wanted friends, and to be able to slip into a normal life, and be a great hero, and be okay with home. Few of those seemed possible now.

  “I’m not stupid. I know you want me to be able to fight.”

  “And what would be wrong with that?” Weiss asked.

  “It’s against the rules.”

  “Whose rules?” Weiss tilted her head. “They’re not against my rules, and this planet is under my protection. Sentinel and Stargazer could fight for people, and the world didn’t end. Wouldn’t it be nice to be the best superhero of your generation?”

  A shudder quaked through Vivian's body. She felt her human passion rise up. These people were weak. Even the exceptional among them were weak. She couldn’t ignore that truth. Who would protect them, if not her? But the rules. The damn rules. None of them could possibly understand. It made her head hurt just to think about breaking them.

  “I would be dangerous without my limits,” Vivian said. “I could go bad.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Weiss said. “I don’t believe you have it in you to go bad. And I’m good at knowing people.”

  “They wouldn’t let me stay.”

  “You let me worry about that,” Weiss said. “Think about it. You have so much potential. We can unlock that potential. You can be the hero this place needs. I know you're chafing under being just a symbol. You have a chance to get your hands dirty. It’s not for me. It’s for them.”

  For them. Everything was for the faceless them. When would something be for Vivian? Even if it couldn’t hurt her, this world was tearing her to pieces. She wanted to be back in her field.

  Weiss left it at that. Vivian didn’t wait for Holly to catch up. Again, she took off.

  She flew to Alaska, to Winterhaven where the rest of the class had taken refuge. The landscape below turned green, then white. She saw the city, an industrial sprawl in the otherwise wild heart of the state. Vivian landed in the midst of the base on its outskirts. A few glanced at her as she came down, but she wasn’t too notable of a sight. The lack of attention was nice, at least.

  A few girls were around the shared bunkroom as Vivian entered. Lucy, Maggie-Lou, and Thalia were sitting on their beds, chatting. There wasn’t much privacy in the long, bare room. Clothes were sprawled around. A few posters were taped to the concrete walls in an attempt to give some character. She felt the girls watching her, but Vivian didn’t make eye contact. She grabbed a fresh change of clothes from her footlocker, ready for a shower.

  “You okay, Viv?” Lucy asked as Vivian walked past. She sounded concerned. Genuine concern, unlike Holly. “You want to join us?”

  Vivian still didn’t quite look at them. Despite it all, they were doing their best to be caring and keep spirits up. They didn’t really mean for her to join them. They couldn’t. It was an empty offer. She knew they must have looked at her like everyone else did. It was her fault for not protecting them. She was the same species as that monster, and that fact made her skin crawl.

  “No,” she said, her voice sounding hollow even to herself. “Thanks. I’m gonna shower.”

  Twenty minutes later, Vivian stood over Lauren’s hospital bed. For three days she had been in a coma, and no one could say when she would be waking up. Her arm was a stump, it’s outline barely visible in the sleeve of her gown. Her eyes were dark and seemed too deep in her skull. The rest of her skin was pale. If she wasn’t breathing with the assistance of a bulky machine attached to her chest, Vivian would think her dead.

  The curtain opened. Dr. Yeoh, the school’s stocky head doctor, entered with a chart.

  “Oh, Vivian,” he said, surprised. “Didn’t know you were visiting.”

  “Does she need any more blood?” Vivian asked.

  The doctor’s eyes went to Lauren. “Lauren? No, but that’s very generous of you to offer. I know you’ve been very eager to help, but we had plenty of fully-human donors willing to give. And now that we’re set up here in Winterhaven, we shouldn’t be running out any time soon. Lauren has a very adaptable system, but it’s better safe than sorry to stick to human blood. Lessens the risks,” Dr. Yeoh explained.

  Vivian nodded. She tried to gulp down a hardness in her throat she could never quite seem to get rid of.

  “Of course.”

  Of course she couldn’t help that way. Her blood was no good. Just another reminder of how different she was.

  She left the building, then left Winterhaven.

  She flew without knowing where she was flying to. She picked up speed, the air bursting behind her heels. Eventually she stopped, having no idea where she was, and took out her phone.

  Holly had messaged her. She had sent a picture of a costume. It was designed for a woman, a broad white cape attached to a red chestpiece and upper waist, a white star on the chest and blue and red on the legs and arms. The outfit was missing anything covering the front from under the breasts to the waistline. It looked like something Grace would wear.

  What is that supposed to be? Vivian texted, hovering two thousand feet above the continent.

  Holly’s reply was swift.

  I thought a new outfit might make you feel a bit better. I think this one reminds people you’re not just half Ollyrian, but half American too. Might reassure people. What do you think?

  Vivian’s fingers trembled as she typed, and not from the cold.

  Half human.

  She planned on putting her phone away again, but paused. She opened her maps app.

  Vivian flew to Thunder Bay, Terry’s home growing up. From her high vantage, she could see the entire sprawl. It was just like Terry described it to her. The city clinging to the side of a great lake rested under a blanket of snow. Not many tall buildings rose to disrupt the surface of white. It was probably best if she wasn’t seen. That would be the smart thing. But she wanted to get a closer look. Terry wasn’t exactly her boyfriend, but he was something to her. She wanted to see his streets.

  She floated down and over the ice-crusted avenues. Traffic moved slow. She came lower, until she was just fifty feet from the ground. She was still in her casual wear, sweatpants and a shirt. But if she got close enough, they’d see her white hair.

  It wasn’t too long before one of the many bundled figures looked up and spotted her. He gestured, and others around him were soon looking up too. They waved at Vivian. From where she remained, they looked so small.

  A crowd of pedestrians gathered below her. They continued waving or recording on their phones. They tried to motion for her to land. Why would they want her among them? Hadn’t they seen what had happened? They should have known to be afraid. For how short-lived they were, humans were such uncautious creatures. Her father had tried to warn her, growing up. Even when they parted for the last time, Roland reminded her things would be much different. Humans would do things that didn’t make sense. Vivian thought she’d come to understand. She wanted to understand.

  She left Thunder Bay behind, flying eastward.

  She found Beacon City without much trouble, on the east coast of the US. She flew for awhile among the towering buildings. This was the city of heroes. This was where her predecessors died. She looked at what remained of the damage. Enough to kill two humans with Ollyrian genes.

  She saw them painted onto the side of a building, rendered in massive scale. Sentinel and Stargazer, looking to the sky, hopeful, Sentinel’s hand on his wife’s shoulder. Streaks of white through their hair.

  Who were you? Vivian wanted to ask them. How were you great? What would you have done?

  Of course, she’d get no answers from their image.

  She drifted more though the city. She came to the top of a tall building, which had a railed observation platform exposed to the outdoors. Fifty people took pictures of the cityscape. All their attention quickly turned to Vivian as she appeared, floating up and out of their reach twenty feet beyond the edge.

  “Galaxy Girl!”

  The people crowded to the edge she was closest too. They called her hero name over and over, waving, taking pictures, again beckoning her to come closer. They reached for her. From this distance, she could see the wonder and delight on their faces. They weren’t afraid of her.

  Vivian came over their heads and landed on the center of the platform. She was mobbed immediately. People jostled to take selfies. She was squeezed from all sides. Questions and remarks were lobbed at her. She saw her uncertain, puffy face in the screens of phones capturing her image. This was her, without the costume and makeup. Take it or leave it. Because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on being a prop.

  A baby was unexpectedly shoved into Vivian’s arms. She looked down at it in surprise, naturally cradling the swaddled figure against her chest. A pink, chubby face looked up at her. A small hand pulled the fabric away from its mouth and nose. Two wide, dark eyes took her in. The baby gurgled and burbled.

  Suddenly, nothing else mattered in that moment. Vivian was alone with this baby. This innocent child who didn’t know her, or know what she was capable of. In this child’s eyes, unlike in everyone else’s, she was just another teen girl. The baby yawned and closed its eyes again. It had seen enough of her.

  She handed the baby back, hopefully to the same person who had placed it in her arms. She began rising out of the crowd. They clung to her clothes and ankles as she rose. She gently pried their hands off.

  She went directly upwards, leaving the sound of them behind.

  She went up, and up further still. She went high enough to see the curvature of the planet on the horizon. She left the atmosphere behind and entered space.

  Vivian flew without the need for breath. She travelled until the moon became less distant. Its gray, rocky surface loomed closer. Each crater grew in her vision until some of them were large enough to fit Thunder Bay or Pacific City entirely within them. She chose a smaller one to perch on. She turned, landed, and sat on the lip of a pool-sized crater.

  There it was. All of Earth, a blue and green marble sitting on the dark stage of space. Clouds drifted over continents. It was so… quiet, at this distance. No sound in space. She missed the peace. Not just the peace of her places back home, but all of it. The peace of being an Ollyrian. Of it not meaning anything.

  She closed her eyes and thought for a while, up here where no one was able to reach her. Breathless still, she thought about the girl she found in the ruins. She thought about the baby. She thought about if she could be the hero that baby could grow up feeling protected by. She thought about being the hero strong enough to not only hit Pariah, but to beat him entirely. Could she ever be that kind of hero?

  She wanted the answer to be yes.

  She just didn’t know how to get there.