The president of the PR agency, her publicist, her assistant, her grandmother, the head of the hero's association, the headmaster of Victoire, her brother... it seemed like everyone in the world wanted to talk to her.
And Stella Firebringer was determined to talk to none of them.
Against all odds, she was determined to have a relaxing afternoon, as her therapist often reminded her was good for her mental health. Speaking of which, she should probably return Dr. Shaw’s call and ask her what she thought of the interview. The good doctor would probably say something along the lines of: "Well, it was unconventional but it’s good that you’re taking strident steps to living as your authentic self. This should help with your imposter syndrome and your increased feelings of detachment from your job."
That was Dr. Shaw's way of saying that she thought Stella lied too much, which was funny because most other people thought she didn't lie enough. Shaw also thought that Stella trying to be herself authentically was the trick to solving all her problems, which just proved that Dr. Shaw didn't know what she was talking about.
Stella was a [Superhero]. Authenticity was terrible in her line of business.
Proved by the incessant ringing of the phone.
Had she just lied yesterday, everyone would have left her the hell alone.
“And this is why I don't do interviews," she muttered as she took a sip of her martini. She was reclined in front of her island mansion, sunbathing in her bikini while watching her younger son throw fireballs at his teacher over the pool.
The presence of water was paradoxically great for fire training because the fear of getting wet would keep him moving and fighting, even as his teacher devised new ways to make him fall.
Once in the water, he'd have to wait for at least thirty minutes to dry off before using his fire starters again, so that essentially made it game over. Whoever fell in the water first lost. Usually, that was Torin, her son, but Stella didn’t know if it would be his loss today.
Her eleven-year-old was good, crazy good even for a Firebringer. He’d pre-awakened at the age of eight, the youngest pre-awakener ever recorded. It was pretty much set that he was going to be an S-Class, the only one in her family apart from her.
At eleven years old, he would be starting at Victoire Hero Academy pretty soon, and he trained hard every day in preparation. He barely took breaks, insisting that he had to be stronger, shoot cleaner, dodge faster. And he had to do everything perfectly.
Such an adorably anal little boy. He reminded her of her brother. Like Luther, Torin was far too serious for his age. Stella wished he would relax a little, but all her attempts to get him to ease up didn't work, not even his friendship with the irreverent Kai Skysoarer.
The only one who could loosen him up was his older brother Theo, who sauntered out in his swim shorts, taking the lawn chair next to her.
“Is it just me or did Torin almost get Master Hua into the water right then?”
“He did,” she responded. “He's getting better.”
“He’s getting incredible.” A tinge of jealousy mixed with pride in Theo’s voice. He'd just graduated from the Hero Academy but it was only a few years ago, in his third year, that he managed to defeat Master Hua. And that was only once because he’d distracted the master with a particularly juicy gossip he’d found out about the master’s new boyfriend.
Seeing Torin this close at just eleven years old must sting a little.
Theo was an A-Rank Fire User and even though he was leagues ahead of his little brother now, it was only a matter of time before Torin caught up and surpassed him.
Stella imagined that brought up a lot of complex feelings in their sibling dynamic. She would have to deal with that soon, but she didn’t have the delicacy or the emotional intelligence for that drama right now. Probably, they needed to talk to their dad who was far more sensitive and good at handling matters of the heart.
And to think, she had two more younger kids and she would have to deal with their powers when they manifested too. Who on earth thought having four kids as a busy [Hero] was a good idea?
Her call tab rang again and Stella groaned. Theo smirked at the annoyance on his mother’s face.
“That was some interview,” he said. “I bet Jerry was so mad when he watched it that he steamed his toupee right off."
The visual made her snort, but then she sobered up again.
“Sorry that I sort of threw you under the bus there." She gave her son an apologetic look. She knew she'd said the right thing in that interview, kinda, but she’d felt like a terrible mother doing it anyway.
“It’s fine," Theo responded. “You were right. We sucked ass that day. And people got hurt because of it.”
He sighed and looked at the sky.
Stella had initially watched the rescue through a video call, before going to Alpeco herself. She remembered the horrified face of her son's hologram when he was told that there were people still in the building, the very same one that he'd just flooded with fire to disable any traps or bombs. To make matters worse, he'd exhausted his fire extinguishing capabilities and would need to wait a few minutes at least to use it again.
Stella then watched as Theo bolted back into the burning building trying to save the two reporters who'd gotten stuck.
He managed to save one but received the order to retreat before he could go back for the other one. And then when he tried to defy the order, he was held back by his teammates and told that the other civilian was probably already dead and they needed to go after the terrorists who were quickly escaping.
When Stella finally arrived on scene, Theo looked as furious as she’d ever seen him, and as a mother, her heart stung with sorrow at his agony. It hurt her to see him suffer but she couldn't let it affect her decision. She was there as a [Hero] and she had a job to do. She had to take control of the situation and order her son to do what was necessary.
And, in the end, he did. He caught the bad guys and took them in, while his mother extinguished the fire in the building. They'd saved the day for the most part.
However, when they'd gotten back to headquarters for a debriefing, Theo didn't say anything. He simply sat stewing in the corner, staring at walls.
Stella didn't speak to him even when it was just the two of them left in the room. She sat a few seats away and waited.
She knew that words wouldn’t help him then and neither would anything she did. All she could give him was space and time.
He'd sat in that corner for hours.
And now, as Stella analyzed him, she saw that despite his attempt at normalcy, a haunted look lingered in his gaze.
“Does it get easier?” he asked, still staring at the sky. “Accepting that sometimes people have to die because of your screw-up?"
She reached over, caressed his cheek, and smiled weakly. “No. It never gets easier. And if it does…something's wrong.”
He allowed her touch for a few seconds and then heaved a heavy sigh. Her call tab rang again. Annoyance flashed through her.
This is all Dr. Shaw’s fault, Stella thought, for planting that authenticity bullcrap in my brain.
She couldn’t believe she actually let the woman convince her that telling the truth was better. No. From now on, Stella needed to lie to everyone. Even Dr. Shaw.
Yes, that's the moral of the story here–start lying more to your therapist, Stella. Or at least ignore her.
"Dad’s making roasted potatoes," Theo said. "And for dessert, he's making some crock of bull thing." He frowned. "Some food I can't pronounce."
“Croquembouche,” Torin said as he executed a perfect fiery kick that nearly singed Master Hua’s hair off and left a shimmery arc in the air for several seconds.
“Of course, you know the name of it," Theo teased. "I guess that's why they call you a genius Tory-banana."
"Don't call me that!" The nickname was enough to distract Torin as Master Hua hooked his legs and sent him sprawling into the water.
His mother and Theo cackled as he swam to the surface, face heated.
Naomi’s system call tab was vibrating off the hook.
Just about everyone in the world was calling her except the person who should have been calling. No, that person wasn’t answering her call.
Naomi tried calling her again.
“Come on pick up.” It was six in the morning, which should be evening time where Stella was. Naomi had only gotten two hours of sleep all night. Her boss had already chewed her out. Even the agency president had called. So had the association and a handful of stylists and publicists.
Naomi was tired. Tired of heroes. Tired of her job. Especially tired of Stella Firebringer and her unique ability to blow the gates of hell wide open and leave her assistant to deal with the mess. And now she refused to answer her phone when the demons came calling.
Why are you doing this to me, Stella? she wondered miserably. What have I ever done to you except be a good assistant?
“Stupid Naomi," she muttered in the darkness of her apartment.
It was her fault. She never should have taken this job no matter how much was offered. There was a reason that Stella's last five assistants quit in under a month, one of them in under a week. The workload was just too much for one person to handle. Her boss was capricious and avoidant and everyone wanted a piece of her and took their anger out on Naomi when they couldn’t get her.
And now, Naomi was facing a call from the Hero Association's Vice President himself.
She swallowed her dread and took a breath to steady herself before she answered the phone. “Hello, sir.”
“What the hell, Naomi?” Jerry Haynes barked. “What the hell was Stella thinking? Get me on the phone with her, right now.”
“She’s not here. She went on a trip with her family."
“Why?”
How the hell would I know? “I’m sure the events of last week were very stressful for her.”
“Oh, I'll show her stress. Does she know how many calls I’ve gotten? The sponsors are pissed. The investors are raging! How could she drag all of us into this mess without even running it by me first?"
The ranting continued for a good while and Naomi listened to it all while making sounds of assent and sympathy. But she was getting increasingly annoyed and her temples throbbed from the scolding she didn't deserve.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Why is this my problem? she wondered. Why are they acting like I could have done something to stop Stella when even the president of the association himself couldn’t stop her? I doubt the Guardians, if they still existed, could have stopped Stella Firebringer from doing something she really wanted to do.
So what on earth did they want good old mundane Naomi to do about it?
After Jerry Haynes was done with his tirade and hung up, Naomi sighed and sat back on the couch.
One of the doors in her apartment opened and her roommate, Megan, came out of her bedroom in a long T-shirt yawning.
She sauntered to the kitchen and glanced over.
"Tough night huh?" she said when she saw Naomi's face.
Naomi nodded glumly.
"I have a date today," Naomi said. "I've had to cancel on him three times already due to work, and it looks like I'm not going to make it again. I have to write statements, issue apologies. I have a headache and all I want to do is drown myself in those left-over donuts from Donut Town, but I can't do that because I'm an adult, with an adult job working for the most annoyingly high-profile [Hero] in the entire world."
“That sucks.” Meg paused and guiltily added, "Is this a bad time to tell you I already ate the last donut?"
Naomi wanted to scream.
That's it! I can't do this anymore. I'm done!
In a flash, she opened her interface ready to start penning down her resignation letter. She’d only gotten the first line done when a notification came in.
It came with a note attached saying, “Sorry about all this! *winky face* Ignore the calls and treat yourself to a nice spa day, okay?”
Naomi didn't have to check who the money was from.
While making conversation, Stella had asked her a few months ago what she liked to do to relax. Naomi responded that she didn’t relax much anymore but she'd loved to go to med spas with her mother back in the day.
It seemed Stella remembered that little detail.
Naomi stared at the credits, suspended on the hill of a momentous decision with no outlet for the turmoil storming through her. She grappled with her choice, tried to hold onto her indignation, and tried to ignore the voice telling her that leaving Stella would be a mistake.
But it was no use. The voice got louder and louder and even her exhaustion was being replaced by the slow but heady pleasure of having so many credits in her account.
In a flash, her heated anger evaporated into the air. She cursed and after a brief second of hesitation, she deleted the resignation letter.
Instead, she added to her to-do list:
Remind Stella. ‘Screw’ is not a family-friendly word.
“Luth! Wait up!”
Luther's muscles knotted in annoyance and he kept walking pretending he hadn’t heard the call. He was finally back in the Capital City about to enter his favorite bagel place and, though he didn’t know exactly who the caller was, the only people who still called him 'Luth' were people from the Academy. He didn't like any of them enough to talk right now.
Unfortunately, the caller couldn’t take a hint and was fast enough to catch up with him.
“Luther.” It was an S-Rank Fighter called Clive, along with his friend whose name Luther never bothered to discover. They fell in step beside him. "Did you see the interview?"
"Yeah," the nameless one said, laughing. "That sister of yours is really something."
"She's a trip," Clive chortled.
Yes, Luther smiled tightly. She's something alright.
Inside he was fuming, as he had been since he watched his sister's interview. Damn Stella. She’d managed to piss off the entire Hero Association with her little off-script stunt. Grandmother was furious and would be calling a meeting soon. Luther was sure their parents were rolling in their graves too.
But he knew ultimately, after the circus died down, everyone would forgive her. It was what they always did and it was why Stella kept pulling stunts, because she would get away with it. Luther never would have gotten away with causing chaos like this, but everyone always liked Stella more. She was an S-Rank [Hero] after all, the famous fire-breather, Queen of Dragons, the soon-to-be matriarch of one of the most powerful families on Earth. And people, for whatever reason, found her charming.
Stella was so important and beloved that nothing bad she did ever mattered.
And if Luther wanted to be angry about the unfairness of it, then so be it.
"I mean who could blame her,” Clive said, grabbing the door of the famed bakery, Donut Town, first. “She was just being honest. That was a clusterfuck and the public was calling for our heads. At least with her speaking out, all the anger can be directed at the ones who actually caused the mess.” He shrugged. "Anyway, how have you been? We missed you on that last mission to District 5."
Luther didn't bother answering him. He simply walked into the store to get his bagel.
Nineteen seconds.
Lexie couldn't believe it. She kept staring at it, every few seconds as though the time would change. Her activation time for
She was ecstatic.
Sure, she still hadn’t managed to duplicate that twenty-one-second time for
She wrote down her new time because she'd decided to start treating her advancement with cards like a real experiment.
She penned down everything she’d done to get to this point. She also wrote down how she felt–her internal mana was flowing easier now, and she could feel all three mana types working smoothly as a unit.
The only problem was that ambient mana control was still her weak point slowing everything down.
If she could figure out a way to speed it up, she could drop time again.
But external mana could really only be trained with deadrooms and those cost money.
Fortunately, a few days ago, she’d gotten an idea of how to get that money.
On the last day of the school week, she told Aiden she would be staying behind for an hour after school closed to chat with her new friends. Aiden was happy to see her socializing and told her he would pick her up two hours late.
Which was perfect. Lexie used that time to take a bus to the Elicart Stadium, where they sometimes held AFC matches when the circuit was in Arcadia.
It was only a five-minute bus ride, and the stadium was large but mostly empty due to there not being any matches scheduled today. She went through the metal detectors and walked into the lobby, heading to a booth that had a sign saying, "Betting Booth."
Betting was heavily regulated in Earth 9 especially when done over the NET. But there were still physical betting booths in place for people who, for whatever reason, could not bet over the system.
They were also heavily regulated, but Lexie had an idea of how to get around that.
As she approached, she kept an eye out to make sure no one was looking at her. It was probably unusual for a ten-year-old to be here by herself, but Lexie was hoping they would simply think her parent was close by.
The man behind the betting counter was completing a crossword puzzle on a writing pad when she arrived, and he didn't look up until she said politely, "Excuse me."
At this point, his gaze flickered up. Then down at her. He frowned.
“Aren’t you a little young to be gambling?”
“Um yeah, but I’m not gambling. I’m delivering for my dad. He’s an ex [Villain] so the metal detectors bug him and it’s a process to get through them. So he wanted me to drop off the odds for him.”
The man raised an eyebrow and she added, “I have his signature on the betting form and everything. I can show it to you." A few nights ago Aiden had come home exhausted and barely awake. Lexie decided to take advantage of it and told him that he was signing a school trip form. And it had been a sample school trip form she'd downloaded from the NET, but the last of the pages was a betting form.
Aiden had signed without even looking to see what it was.
Even after checking out the form, the teller narrowed his eyes at Lexie suspiciously. Lexie was starting to feel nervous. What would it take to get him to believe her?
"Do you wanna talk to my dad?" Lexie asked. "I can give you his number so you can call."
In preparation for this, she had Chris on the other line ready to pretend to be her dad. Apparently, he could do pretty good impressions and it only cost her an extra fifty credits. “You can call him to confirm if you like.”
“Yeah, they don't pay me enough for that.” The teller finally sighed. “Alright. What do you wanna do?”
“I wanna put four hundred on Kane the Mundane.”
The man frowned. “You sure about that? That kid’s a fraud and he’s going up against Maverick, who is a three-time Golden Glove champ”.
“I know. But I...I mean my dad thinks Mundane has a good shot.” Kane’s lack of significant powers and physical prowess was heavily buttressed by the fact he used high-tech wear. Gear only someone with millions to waste could afford.
Luckily, his family was old-money wealthy and they recently signed a deal with a mining company which meant they would be even wealthier. Which meant Kane could buy more mechs.
And as for Maverick, she suspected he had a brain injury even though he tried to hide it. She'd seen him limp and stumble slightly at the start of his last match against Turbulence, but he'd played it off like an ankle sprain. Everyone else had bought it too, but Lexie had gone to previous matches and seen him stumble a couple of times in the same way even when he hadn't been hit. Plus, he swung wide most often now, when before, his brawling style used to be close and quick.
During one of his matches, Lexie had also zoomed in to watch his eyes and noticed they widened and unfocused often, and sometimes he blinked a lot. When she kept digging, she saw the match that probably caused it, a blow to the head some three years ago, during the Golden Glove championships.
In any case, Lexie suspected he had a TBI or a concussion that had never really healed. And if she could find that out, she was pretty sure that Kane could too. After all, she knew he probably hired people to dig into all his opponents and find their weaknesses.
Rumor had it that one of his opponents had nearly killed him during a match because Kane had mocked him with his sister's death in the locker rooms before they came on. The fighter had gotten disqualified due to the viciousness of his attack and he'd never fought again. It had earned Kane a lot of sympathy with the public until the video of the locker room leaked and everyone turned against him.
Kane didn't care though even when sponsors dropped him. It wasn't like he needed sponsors in the first place. He was already rich. He just fought because he enjoyed it.
Kane was an asshole but though he was frequently underestimated, he wasn't stupid. The second he knew about Maverick's injury he would do everything in his power to take Maverick down with headshots.
“Alright,” the teller said. “Your funeral. But if it makes you feel any better, not too many people bet on Kane so on the off chance that you win, your dad’s going to be a bunch of credits richer.”
“That’s the idea.”
The teller entered in all the necessary information on the form, processed it, and then told her. “No need to come back to collect. If you do win, it will be automatically transferred to the account on file.”
Alright, good to know.
"Thanks," she said, and then she turned around. Only to freeze.
No. It couldn’t be him.
He couldn't be here.
But even with a hat and a face mask to shield his face, she would know that frame and swaggering gait anywhere. Top Dog. He wasn’t in his usual get-up obviously. He was wearing casual clothes, ripped jeans, and a sleeveless tank. A scar was carved on his shoulder, darker than his brown complexion. He was carrying a sling bag across his chest, with one hand tucked in his pocket and the other on his ear.
He was also clearly talking to someone on a call.
And worse, he was headed straight in Lexie's direction.
“Yeah Anna I get it,” he was muttering. “Just tell him I’ll be there soon and stall for as long as you can. I’ll grab a teleport when I’m done.”
He approached the booth and slid a note across to the teller. The teller must have been used to it because he just took the note and nodded, entering it into the system.
As it processed, Top Dog drummed his fingers and continued his conversation, annoyance tinging his tone.
“Of course, I’m being careful. It’s why I ported to this random ass city to do this. I’m not an idiot. Trust me, no one will recognize me here.”
His voice cut out at the end because he suddenly realized that Lexie was staring at him intently. Very intently. And the look of barely bridled excitement on her face sparked a look of dread and growing resignation in his eyes.
“Scratch that. I think I just got caught by a nine-year-old.”
I’m ten, Lexie thought but she couldn't get her voice box to do more than croak.
“Okay, okay, don’t yell. I’ll deal with it. Talk to you later.” He tapped to hang up and then tugged down his face mask to attempt a somewhat unconvincing and uncomfortable smile. “Hey, kiddo. How’s it going?”
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Lexie blurted out before he could say anything else. Then when he winced, she lowered her voice. “ Sorry. I mean, I know who you are but I won’t tell anyone I saw you. Except maybe Xena. I have to rub it in her face, just to show that I’m not trying to be her friend, but I won’t tell her what you were doing. I won’t tell my dad either because he’s kind of a gossip. But I’m not like him. I can keep a secret. ”
He smiled at her, bemused. “Yeah. That would be great.”
He straightened and turned back to the booth, but she was desperate to continue the conversation so she said, “Are you betting?”
“Uh, yeah. But not against myself of course. That would be illegal.”
“If you’re betting on the next match, you should bet on Kane. He's going to win."
Distaste touched his expression. “You think so?”
She nodded and he smiled at her again but it was the indulgent smile one gave kids when they said something adorably silly.
“I’m serious,” Lexie said. "You'll win lots of money. Like lots.” And to exemplify she spread her arms far apart.
He only smiled wider. “That's cute. I’ll take that under serious advisement." He completed his transaction with the teller silently and then gave her one last look. "It was nice meeting you, kid."
He patted her hair a little before walking away.
Lexie’s jaw dropped as she watched him leave and her fists clenched tightly to contain her emotion.
For a moment, and only a moment, she considered never washing her hair again.