I had always felt like there were pieces of me that were either broken or missing, pieces that everyone else seemed to have. Imagine if you will a pane of glass between yourself and the world, that everyone has to see through. Most people’s panes of glass are clear and pristine; they see the world as it is, and the information they receive through it is unaltered, and their interpretations of it are unaffected. In this same room is a mirror; most people’s mirror’s are precise and complete, and when they see themselves, they see an unaltered, accurate depiction of themselves as they are. In my room, the glass is warped and dyed, and everything I see in the world is dark and sorrowful as a result. When I see myself in my broken mirror, it sickens me, and I feel like there is nothing there worth looking at, let alone worth loving.

  But Silaqui said she liked me. This person, whose opinion I held so highly, who had taken the mirror in me and begun to fix it slightly, who had taken my pane of glass and chiseled it slowly into something beautiful, said that they cared for me. Was something like that even possible? Was I allowed to be this happy? I left the diner, and began my journey home with my head abuzz, my many depressive and anxious egos wrestling with this newfound love. I thought of Aera, and felt a pang of guilt that I had left her to fend for herself; but that pang went away, replaced with the comfort of Silaqui’s words and assurances. I knew this was the right path, and I knew I was walking it. I had never felt more sure and at peace with this fact than ever before. I may not be able to save cities, but I was going to be a Champion of Silaqui, and that would begin tonight.

  As I made my way through city streets, I listened closely for the sounds of distress, a cry for help; when there was none, I went to my apartment and opened the window, hoping to get a better vantage point. Realizing that simply listening for trouble was probably not the way to do things, I sat down and tried to think of other ways to find people to save. I thought of comic books, where people use police scanners; but I wanted to get to the crimes before they had even been reported. There has to be a better way, I thought to myself as I sat below my open window. I closed my eyes, trying desperately to think of ways to help people, when suddenly, I felt something within my stomach pulse. I recoiled at the feeling, snapping my attention back to the room; what had just happened? It felt… Like one might feel when they are hungry, and they see their favorite food just sitting in front of them. It was only for a moment, but it was ravenous and uncomfortable.

  Every instinct told me to never access that again, but there was another aspect to that pulse that caught my attention. When it happened, I could sense something else; through walls, I could feel this strange darkness all around me. Maybe if I concentrated, I could pinpoint where stronger sources of Vanta were. I strengthened my resolve, silencing the voice in my head that was begging to run from that experience, and closed my eyes. For a moment, there was only the dark, swirling behind my eyelids with shapes like a Rorschach; but the hunger bit into me deep and hard, like a wolf going in for the kill. It begged to be fed, and I felt ravenous for something more, something savage to consume. When I succumbed to this hunger, I felt it, a point to the southeast of me, where Vanta was gathered in a large quantity, about 13 blocks away. The last thing I saw before I opened my eyes was the Rorschach shift into a crooked smile.

  I collapsed onto my side in a sweat, panting heavily. I was back in my room again, but everything felt foreign, as if I had been away for months. My stomach growled, upset and anxious, and my mind was aflame, but my heart remained steady; I was a Champion, and I was going to remain one, no matter what. I took my time getting onto my feet, before going to the closet and getting the winter outfit I used to obscure my figure and face the other night. I put on my gloves, and left the apartment, heading towards the location I had felt out. The night time streets of New York were statistically unsafe; when Othersiders became prevalent in our realm, gun laws became extremely lax, so that people could have easier ways of protecting themselves. These laws benefitted gangs and outlaws more than the common citizen though, and so crime became more commonplace as time went on; definitely not the quiet and sweet city I remembered walking through with my mother, though maybe that was because she protected me from those things.

  I arrived outside of a nightclub called Liberty and Love; the neon sign depicted a man and a woman inverted from each other in seductive poses. A line entirely composed of humans formed outside the door, with a large human bouncer standing guard at the front. It seemed this place catered only to human-folk, at least, on the outside. I knew of some gangs that operated like that, trying to “cleanse the city and take back what was rightfully theirs.” Things like that disgusted me, even when I was a human; every living being in the realms deserved a space at the table, even animals and plants. Humans weren’t special just because we grew up in an isolated box and told ourselves that we were the best for millenia. Sure enough, my elven eyes spotted a tattoo on the wrist of the bounces, an Ace of Hearts; these people were members of the Lonely Hearts Club. I saw a side door past the bouncer, and decided to use some second-story work to make my way past him.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  I went into an adjacent building’s alleyway, and climbed the fire escape to their roof. Looking down at the club, it was about three stories drop with no fire escape or purchase to climb down on. I trusted in my new body, and simply jumped onto the roof of the club, over 20 feet in length and 20 feet down, and landed with a nimble roll, no damage sustained. I double checked my legs and feet to make sure I was okay, before I dropped into the alley and slid into the side door. I could hear the deep thump of the bass through the wall as I made my way into the backrooms of the club; the music made detecting heartbeats impossible, so I had to rely on sight and skill for sneaking through this club. I still didn’t even know what I was looking for: somebody to stop, some reason to fight them, something to save, it didn’t matter. But I felt the evil here, and knew something was going to go down.

  I ducked into a supply closet with no one else in it, and closed my eyes again, hoping to get a better sense of where to look. Again, the insatiable appetite for Vanta appeared, so strong I could barely keep standing. I searched the area again; strong sources from the club itself, but the true Vanta, the one I had felt earlier, was below us.

  “Wake up.”

  My eyes shot open. I was alone in the supply closet still, music still raging outside. What the fuck was that? I barely had time to register it before I heard the door to the closet begin to open; time moved in slow motion, and I reacted with an animalistic, yet martially-trained efficiency. The man opened the door and walked in nonchalantly, unaware that I was behind the door. With the movement of a viper, I kicked the back of his leg, and heard the sound of a snap as he fell to the floor. Before he could yell, my hands were around his neck, cinching the scream in his throat. The thought flashed through my mind, snap his neck, but I thought of Silaqui and what she would want, and simply squeezed tightly until he passed out instead.

  I closed the door behind me, and stealthed my way closer into the club, making sure to avoid any more altercations until I saw what my target truly was. I didn’t find a staircase anywhere, which was surprising, but as I felt around the manager’s office, I found a false door guarding a path down. As I made my way down into the hidden cellar, the first thing I noticed was the smell; a perfumed scent, like one of the plants in Silaqui’s apothecary. A pink light shone as if refracted by water, a light show deceptively beautiful for the sinister activity that happened within. I made my way into the large den, and saw a dozen water-filled tanks with beautiful women, presumably sirens, hooked up to IVs and tubes. I felt sick to my stomach as I saw these poor Folk being bled dry, with tables of humans refining their blood into some kind of liquid. In another spot, people were using this liquid as ear drops, and sitting there, drugged out of their minds.

  I looked at all of these people, and I felt an illness begin to fester in my bones, an illness of humanity and greed that ignited and became a sincere and honest bloodlust and rage. No more hiding. I walked down the stairs into the den, and punched the wall, shattering the brick with my fist. Suddenly, all their eyes were on me, and I stared right back. I started breathing quickly, the moment suddenly setting in; there were at least 20 of them standing up to attention, looking ready to fight me, and I counted at least ten more upstairs. But my heart was pounding, and for some reason, I couldn’t help but smile; this is what it meant to be a Champion.

  The first five rushed me at once, their knives brandished, and they might as well have been children. One took a stab at my chest, and suddenly, their knife was in their own neck. Two and three tried to restrain me to make things easier, grasping for my arms. Before they could get a firm grip, I punched two in the neck, snapping his spine, before breaking three’s arm and punching him full-force in the chest, most likely crushing his ribs. I didn’t care that they were dying from this; in fact, after seeing the brutality they inflicted on these sirens, I wanted them to. Four and five, fearing for their lives, just slashed wildly at me; I took four’s knife, a large Bowie knife, and severed her arm with it, before embedding it in five’s skull.

  Suddenly, the sound of gunfire erupted, as the other offenders joined in. I got tagged by two rounds before I took cover, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as I thought it should have. When I went to inspect the wound, the bullets were embedded in the skin. I pulled them out of me, and watched as the wounds began to stitch themselves closed. I really wasn’t human anymore was I? I laughed at how fortunate I was to meet Silaqui, to know how to fight as well as I do… In that moment, being fired on, people rushing down the stairs to kill me, I realized that if I hadn’t suffered the way I had suffered, then I wouldn’t be the me I am now. And I felt joy from the bottom of my heart.