"I'm sorry," we both say simultaneously.

The two of us go silent, waiting for the other to continue. My life is becoming a series of tropes. Why is she apologizing? I take the initiative to speak first.

"I haven't been fair to you. I was dismissive of your valid feelings and concerns. And that was a shitty thing to do. Both as a leader and a friend," I said.

The center of my chest tightens as a new pain blooms inside me. It's different from the dull ache beneath the bandages. This is a stabbing, piercing feeling like an icepick to the heart. What is happening? Kai didn't say anything about this. No, I felt this before. It started after I killed that magician. Is this from him?

"Why are you apologizing? I jeopardized the plan, exposed myself to the Capes, and I allowed you to get hurt. I let my distrust of her get between us and acted like a bitch," Vivienne apologized.

"V, you didn't jeopardize the plan at all. You might have revealed that you're in Quinstin, but you also did it with a statement. You beat the shit out of a Heroes' Union squad and showed that Vesuvius isn't someone who can be fucked with. Me getting hurt has nothing to do with you; I did it to myself. When it comes to Tuesday, I want you to know that I trust your instincts, but without proof, you can't expect me just to kill her," I said, running my fingers through my hair.

"I'm not asking you to do that. I would never ask you to kill someone," she denied emphatically.

"Vivienne, she knows too much about our operation, about me. I can't just fire her. When I said the only way anyone leaves this group is in a bodybag, I wasn't joking. I got lucky that Technologica didn't decide just to kidnap me and keep me as a prisoner to move powers till I died. I'm Nobody because the moment I become someone, my life is over. All of this, the planning, assembling a group, orchestrating things from behind the scenes, is so I can amass enough power and wealth that it doesn't matter who knows my secret; I'll be untouchable," I said.

I've never voiced those concerns before. It isn't that I'm afraid or paranoid; what I told her is the factual truth. Traditionally fair and "good" organizations will struggle to keep their morals when presented with a one-of-a-kind resource. I'm leaving out a few minor details, but I'm not lying.

"Nobody, Eryk, I would never let that happen. I would rain hell down on everyone responsible. No one could stop me from freeing you. You're my friend and no one fucks with my friends. It is nice to know you trust my gut, though. But you're right that unless I can prove it, my suspicions have no weight to them. I'm gonna work on not letting my feelings affect me so much when we're working. I can hate her when I'm not here," Vivienne said earnestly.

She switched to my real name. Vivienne and I making up, her declaring her dedication, and swearing to save me should be filling me with the warmth of a pleasant fire. Her words are so authentic that they give me pause. This should make me happy. It would if I still had that other piece. Instead, I feel nothing, except that stabbing pain from before. It's stronger than ever, to the point I feel sick. Just respond the way you would with anyone else.

"Thank you, truly. Sometimes this can feel like a very lonely experience, and it's nice to know I'm not alone. You know I'd do the same for you; I'd utterly destroy whoever messed with you. I'm glad we met, V. You're my best friend," I said.

"You're crying; are you okay, Eryk?" She asked, concerned.

"What?" I choked out, holding my hand to my face. It's soaked. She's right. Tears are pouring out of me. The pain wracks every part of me. It's like the source is everywhere and nowhere at once. My skin feels tight and uncomfortable. I'm acutely aware of my breathing and every part of myself. This is what sadness feels like? Why does it hurt so badly? The full weight of what I lost when making Zero hits me like a comet. I sacrificed human connection just to spite Technologica. I had no idea what that was worth. I blink to try to get the tears to stop, but nothing does the trick. Wiping my face doesn't get them to stop; it's like a hose. I close my eyes just so I don't have to see her face and get reminded of the hollowness inside me.

"I'm here," Vivienne said, wrapping her arms around me.

Vivienne pulls us into the garage, and I get out without a word. I'm exhausted, physically and emotionally. It wasn't hard to convince Isaiah that I needed time to rest. He believes anything I tell him. Everyone took my pain as the reason I wasn't talking, but it isn't that at all. The remnant pain from the surgery is pretty much gone, and is nothing compared to the emotional agony I feel when I even look at Vivienne. I'm like a zombie as I drag myself to my apartment. The moment the door closes, I put my helmet away and collapse on my bed, not even bothering to change.

This sucks. This is part of being normal? Feeling like this, with no way to make it stop. If this is what being human means, then am I chasing nothing but pain? My entire life, I've looked at people as weak for being sad. This is what Daniel felt, no, what he feels when he looks at me. I inflicted this pain on Marcus' parents. Was this what Maria felt as we drifted apart? Did her heart breaking hurt worse than this? When I screamed I didn't love her, did that wound her more than my hands wrapped around her neck? Did my words kill her before my actions did? I have manipulated emotions without a second thought. All in order to make my life or my goals easier, but this emotion, sadness, is the first time I have second-guessed my mission.

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I'm drained in a way I've never felt before. When I close my eyes to sleep, my mind replays the interaction I had with Vivienne. A fresh wave of sadness comes over me when I remember what I've lost. It's only lucky for me that the only thing I'm mourning is our friendship. If I suddenly felt sad about Maria, Marcus, or my mother, it would be debilitating. Already, this is more than I can handle. I need to do something. Dragging myself out of bed, I go to my fridge and find what I need. The beer that Aubrey left from all those months ago. It's just been in my fridge, taking up space, since I only drink socially. I crack open the can, chugging it quickly. The taste is as awful as I remember. I crush the can, toss it in the recycling, and crack open the second one. I just need to blackout and it'll make dealing with this a tomorrow problem. The second beer becomes a third and the third becomes a fourth, then fifth, then seventh?

My phone rings, and it's the most annoying sound I've ever heard. Uggghhh. I drowsily try to grab it, but the noisy thing manages to escape my sweeping grasp. My head is throbbing; each ring sounds like a marching band percussion section practicing inside my skull. Motherfucking phone. My mouth is dry, my throat parched, and I feel like shit. Everything aches, and my mind is foggy. The disturbing offender brushes my hand, and I latch onto it. Stupid fucking thing. It's so loud and annoying, and I just want to sleep. My code doesn't work; my sleep-crusted eyes are making it hard to get it right.

"Stupid, fucking phone," I shouted, throwing my phone across the room.

It hits something, and I'm too tired even to bother finding out what. It thankfully ceases making any noise. At this point, I don't even care if it's broken. I'm going back to sleep and resting from all of this fatigue.

I wake up, and my apartment is in complete darkness. Rolling out of bed, I navigate to the bathroom. My eyes are slowly acclimating to the dark, and thankfully, my headache is gone. The automatic lights turn on, and it feels like I've been flashbanged. I cover my eyes with my arm and swing my other hand around, trying to find the manual light switch. I find it and turn the knob counterclockwise to dim them down a bit. Once my eyelids are orange, I slowly open them to face my mirror. Much better.

I look rough, to put it lightly. My hair is damp with sweat; sandy blonde strands stick to my forehead. The deep, rich emerald of my eyes is bloodshot, and I probably smell terrible. I take my shirt off, and my assumption about my scent is correct. I smell of sweat, grime, and blood. The bandages don't show any discoloration. Kai warned that if I saw red, brown, or yellow, essentially any color, it would mean there was a problem and to call him immediately. No color means I can take it off. Carefully, I unwrap the bandages and see I'm going to have a new scar from this. I've got the long, thin mark from when I was young, and now I'll have this circular one. The stitches are solid, and Kai said they'll dissolve as it heals, but the fresh skin is lighter than the rest of me. It honestly looks like the full moon; it's so pale. Without knowing where my phone is or its condition, I'm going to have to use the Home AI.

"What is today's date and time?" I asked my AI.

"It is currently 3:00 AM, on Monday, November 7th, 2225. Would you like the weather as well?" The AI asked.

"No, but set a reminder for seven. Label it Ethics Class," I answered.

"Timer set. Would you like to finish setting up your Home AI? I can monitor calls, texts, adjust the thermostat, and more."

"No," I said a little too aggressively.

Ever since Technologica, I've been far more wary of the kind of damage technology can do to your life. Even pairing my phone to someone's car gives me pause. Over three months and not a word or a sight of her or that pinstriped motherfucker. What are you planning for me? I'm not naive enough to think that Zero and Six are causing her any problems yet. Zero has yet to complete her first mission, and Six isn't sapient enough to communicate with yet.

I take the remainder of my clothes off, tossing them into the hamper and turning the shower on. While that heats up, I scrub my face with moisturizing soap. My showers run hot, and the bathroom fan is fighting a losing battle against the steam filling the room. As I step in, I close my eyes, letting my mind wander as my tired body is enveloped by hot water.

I have a clear and secure command structure, with competent subordinates. Once everyone figures out their suits and names, we can become more aggressive. But that's for Cowl activities, I need to get Momentus Inc. up and running. As soon as Kai finishes the base, he can move on to the apartments. Miles and Nicholas need to draft up a letter of intent for the mayor; we can use the apartments as proof of quality. Kai has already completed all the necessary work to obtain his general construction license, and everything is in order, so we shouldn't encounter any issues on that front. I'll see if Rorschach can find us other avenues of commerce to explore. Maybe buy enough shares to get her a board seat on some other companies around here.

I need to find another Neuvohuman for the vigilante to target. None of the others have made any leeway in finding a computer-savvy regular person, and our vigilante can't disappear and lose the momentum we gained. If I can't find someone, then I'll help someone find me. It's risky, but necessary. The vigilante is required for the future. And I can always kill them once they've outlived their usefulness.

I have a sizable number of pieces on the board, but I'm still being stretched thin. The list of opponents keeps growing, and I'm unsure how long I can maintain this pace. The thought of getting more emotions like sadness is enough to make me reconsider whether I want to experience every emotion, or just the good ones. The idea of a true human experience is more appealing than the reality. How many others would kill for the chance not to have to deal with the overwhelming force of their feelings? It's hypocritical of me to be questioning things when I'm actually killing people to steal their emotions. But what is more human than your thoughts not matching your actions?

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