Triumph, Volume 6, Issue 2

“This is Brooke Hall, Channel 3 News Stevenson.  This is a scene of devastation not found in the Middle East, but instead in the Mid-West.”  The area behind her, on the campus of Central Illinois University, was in utter disarray.  No buildings were seriously damaged, but large sections of cement were flipped over and thrown yards away; entrances were closed by crime-scene tape, and blood was clearly visible on several surfaces.  

“Yesterday evening, a protest of trans-gendered use of restrooms relating to their identified gender was interrupted by an explosion which injured several students and faculty.  This showdown between liberal and conservative values wasn’t the main event for the afternoon, however, as unknown parties had seemingly planted a bomb in the vicinity of the protest.”

On the television, a video replayed portions of the explosion, shot by protesters and counter-protesters who had filmed the incident on their smartphones.  “An unexpected, but certainly welcome, turn happened when three masked and powered heroes showed up to help, a sight not seen in Stevenson for several years.  Several protesters were transferred quickly to the University Hospital by this woman…” an image of the red-haired Sidhe in her gray costume accented in green, including flowing green cape, appeared on the camera, whisking a victim off into the sky, “while others were rescued by the intervention of this stretchy hero…” Will winced at the term as he saw his picture on the TV in the Phi house.  Mojo smacked him in the arm.

“Yo, man, you rocked it!  Saved those people!”  Will sighed.  Mojo was his brother by fraternity, and he loved the lug, but lug he was.  

Back on the screen, Brooke’s face briefly reappeared.  “A surprising appearance by this woman completed the scene.  Damsel, kid partner to Stevenson’s own Dragonfly, flew down out of the sky to coordinate the heroic efforts, using the well-known ‘humming bomb’ created by Dragonfly to demolish concrete and allow access to victims of the tragedy.”  

“Braa, you the shit!”  Mojo said, smacking Will Sutton’s hand.  

Will pushed the hand away.  “Ah, I’m just a rubber band,” he said, immediately regretting the statement as several of his brothers were listening.  He knew the odds of his NOT being renamed “Rubber-Band” or some similar by his fraternity brothers were really low.  Will looked at the screen and thought.  He couldn’t get that red-head out of his mind.  That curly red hair, that strength, it seemed to permeate his thoughts.

And the Indian woman.  There was no doubt she knew exactly what to do.  She was a normal person, seemingly, with no powers like himself or Sidhe, but Will was certain that without her direction, several more people would have died last night.  

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Mina Sanderson was so engrossed in the poem she was reading, she almost missed her television debut.  Looking up from the depths of her Victorian soul, she watched as Sidhe, the Celtic Spirit-powered superheroine transported several victims of the bombing to University Hospital.  She smiled.  Somehow, the hate the protesters brought her way was less important than the fact that she’d saved lives.  And that she’d found others like her.  Damsel, in particular, had impressed her. Trained by a past generation of heroes, the commanding  young woman demanded respect by her very presence.  Though their interaction had been brief, Mina felt that she could follow Damsel into battle, no matter the threat.  

Mina looked up across the lounge, and returned to her studies.  As she did, she tried hard not to think about that frat boy with the stretchy powers.  She’d locked eyes with him several times during the emergency; he was sooo hawt.  But Mina knew what types like him thought of people like her.  After all, he was there to protest her rights, in the first place.  But…

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Andre Lee watched the whole coverage of the hero adventures from yesterday.  He couldn’t believe he’d missed the opportunity.  Damsel!  The kid partner of Dragonfly, one of the original Stevenson heroes!  And some people his own age, too.  He sighed and continued through the security check in toward his room in Langley Hall.

“Yo, Dre’!” a voiced called.  Andre looked up from the screen, pulling the laptop closed as he did so.

“Whatup,” the very short-haired African American young man answered to his classmate.

“You rollin’?”

"Not for a couple hours. Got studying."

"Man, there's a party to be had! Put them books down in your room and get dressed, brainiac!"

Dre sighed again, then smiled. "Okay, give me twenty."

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Jyoti sat looking out over sunset in downtown Stevenson, a cocktail in her hand. Thinking. It had been an unexpected evening last night. Unexpected to reveal her presence in Stevenson so soon, unexpected to confront terrorist violence in the mid-sized town, unexpected to meet too fledgling supers. She'd opted not to contact either of them after the event, but instead to watch from a distance. And thus it was she'd followed both of the young people home from the air, learning more about their lives than they probably would have preferred. She'd felt a little creepy doing it, but Dragonfly had taught her that people like them, normal people playing in the superpowered world, had to be very, very careful. Information was a shield and a weapon.

She took another sip and picked up her phone, considering for a minute calling Aaron. Nah, she thought, setting the phone down beside her and watching the sun sink further. He's probably busy running inventory on meats and cheeses, or slicing vegetables for tomorrow's shift. Heroes Deli in Chicago. Comfort food.

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Epilogue

The Machine had no senses.  It could see, but it could not perceive.  It could not hear, not feel.  Sampson had been able to do these things, and it was that tie that had made the bridge to Earth, from the Demon Dimension.  The Entity chuckled.  How silly humans were.  Demon Dimension.  Hell.  These terms were meaningless in explaining the complexity of The Entity’s home.  And they were woefully insufficient in explaining his need to get out.  No one rules in Hell, he thought sarcastically.  But on Earth, he had been a king, thanks to Sampson and his Nightmare Engine.  

The Engine now stood before in The Entity; it was time to give it another try.  Once again, he entered into the sooty, oily domain of the Nightmare Engine and accessed the subroutines the evil genius Sampson had built into it.  The Engine transcended space, and even the dimensional barriers, and with a shock, The Entity realized he had found himself back where it all began several years ago. This was Stevenson.  This was home.  It was time to say hello…