Published at 17th of February 2026 7:58 am

Chapter 9 The Price (Miles POV)

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Darkness surrounds me, the kind that activates the lizard part of your brain to warn you of dangers that lurk within it. I can't see my own hand in front of my face. Actually, I can't feel my hand, or any part of my body for that matter. I must be having one of those out-of-body experiences. I thought that you were supposed to see yourself? Or float above your body and see your life happening without you. I've never heard of this ocean of black place. Where am I?

The last thing I remember was fighting Ares and completely outclassing him. For a member of the infamous Olympians, he wasn't able to hurt or even threaten me. After seeing all the destruction that Ares and Ferrol had caused, I was forced to step in. Ferrol's inability to follow orders is what allowed Ares to set off the bomb. If he had just listened to me, I wouldn't have had to use force to restrain him. And his teammates wouldn't have attacked me. Oh yeah, I shielded Chase and myself with my last bit of energy. Even though he's one of the reasons that Ares escaped, I still chose to save him.

Thinking of Ares reminds me of the fact that I failed. I can't imagine what type of devastation awaits outside my protective sphere. Wait. Why can't I feel anything? Being inside my protective sphere explains the lack of light, but not the lack of physical sensations. Oh God, am I dead? That's a depressing thought. Atonement dying on his second-ever outing isn't a proper conclusion to his story. If those Capes got me killed, I am going to haunt their headquarters for the rest of eternity. It doesn't matter whether it's Phantasmo, Miles, or Atonement; the Heroes' Union members can't help but get in my way. Is this purgatory? If it isnt, then why is everything so dark? Am I stuck here forever?

I open my eyes, and instead of an inky void all around me, it's a large domed room brightly lit by my suit of light. Im not dead; Im still under my shield. Trying to get up is pointless. I can't move a single muscle, and my body is exhausted past the point of no return. It seems as if I've gone past the stage of agonizing torture, and I'm now in the numb stage. Did I paralyze myself by channeling too much electricity? Panic blooms in my brain, spreading like pollen in the wind. Is this temporary? Did I mess up my body so much that I'm paralyzed? Forget becoming a hero, I'll be lucky if I'm able to eat on my own. Will Nobody take the powers back and kill me? What could I even say in my defense? I destroyed my own body and didn't even get the bad guy. I have nothing to show for this complete and utter mess. I failed this city. I failed Nobody. I failed myself.

Tears fall down the sides of my face, and I blink repeatedly to get the pooling liquid out of my eyes. I bite my lip to hold back the sobs threatening to escape my throat. A voice in the back of my mind speaks, one I haven't heard since Nobody saved me. They told you you weren't a good candidate for the Heroes' Union; they warned you. They were right. It has nothing to do with the ugly exterior and everything to do with what's inside you. You're a failure, a small boy playing at being a man. No matter how powerful you become, you'll always lack the strength to make up for your weakness. I thought I was past this, thought I was cured of the doubts, but I'm not. You were never going to make a difference. The nicest thing they did was tell you to give up. You aren't a hero; you aren't worthy of the powers you were given. You have been a waste of space since the day you were born. My chest starts to hurt, like someone is grabbing my heart and squeezing as hard as they can. The worst part is, I know the pain is in my head. These psychosomatic symptoms are ones Im oh so familiar with. The tears in my eyes make the light in the room bloom like headlights on a dark night.

I hear a cough to my right, but without control of my neck, I cant even look at the source. Stupid, stupid idiot, its obviously Chase. Who else would be in here with you? You deserve this. Its your fault. Trying and failing to ignore the intrusive thoughts, I do my best to listen to the sounds Chase is making. A long, drawn-out sigh, followed by the rustling of clothing, means Chase is likely up. The thought of showing weakness in front of one of them is enough to shake me out of the spiraling downturn. As long as I focus on something, I can keep the thoughts at bay. Live in the present. Control your thoughts, dont let them control you. Everyone struggles with these kinds of thoughts. I am not alone in this fight.

What the fuck, Chase groaned, stretching out the word far longer than he needed to. Where the hell am I?

You're safe inside here. I protected us from the blast after you interrupted me as I attempted to contain it, I said angrily.

You knew that was going to happen? Chase questioned.

Did I know he was planning to set off a nuclear bomb? No. But I had a feeling that something was amiss when I first saw the power armor he was using. It was cobbled together from scraps, and that is at odds with their whole schtick of being superior to the mortals. Then there was the added weirdness that he wasn't going all out and kept the fighting to populated areas. I noticed this all at a glance, after saving a group of civilians who were buried underneath a collapsed building that your teammate caused. That dog was destroying everything around him and endangering innocent people with how recklessly he was fighting, I responded, my tone harsher than I meant it to be.

Ferrol. His name is Ferrol, not dog. And that doesn't excuse you using your powers against him, Chase said.

I don't care, Chase. If I noticed all of that within a minute of arriving, then how come he couldn't? I told him to back down while I handled Ares, and instead of doing that, he attacked him. The Cowl escaped because of him, and the bomb went off because of you and Technovore, I spat. I can't help but let my hate seep into my speech. These morons can't do anything.

We arrived on the scene, and you had trapped our teammate in chains made of lightning. How the hell would you have liked us to respond? Were we supposed to recognize you as one of the good guys? Chase asked. Before I can retort, he continues on. Capes don't attack each other; they don't use their powers against one another. Technovore fired a low-power, non-lethal concussive blast; it wouldn't even kill a bird. Then I tackled you, forcing you to the ground, but I didn't continue to attack. We handled shit by the book, followed the law to the letter. You're the one out here acting like some sort of crazy vigilante, attacking Capes and Cowls. I understand your frustration at Ferrol's reckless behavior, but that doesn't justify your response.

I AM WEARING A SUIT OF ARMOR LITERALLY MADE OUT OF LIGHT. WHAT ELSE COULD I HAVE DONE TO LOOK LIKE A GOOD GUY? I shouted. I took a deep breath, calming myself. None of this even matters. There's no telling how many people died because of your interference. I was only able to absorb about twenty-five percent of the energy from the bomb. Your team is probably dead; there might not even be a city left outside this dome. See, that's the problem with you guys. Youre so obsessed with optics and how things look. You're incapable of focusing on what matters or of understanding the consequences of your actions. Who cares what I did to Ferrol? I didn't do any lasting damage to him or cause any injuries. Quinstin might be gone, reduced to ash. Or we might be at ground zero for a Chernobyl-level catastrophe.

Chase is quiet; the only noise I can hear is his labored breathing. My helmet reduces my peripheral vision to nearly zero, so I have no iea what he's doing over there. If only I could twist my head an inch, I'd be able to face him. But I can't move anything but my face; I can't feel anything from the chin down. Wait. That's not exactly true. I can feel my powers and the well within me. My light, electricity, and fire reserves are gone; not even a speck remains. I do have plenty of radiation and kinetic energy inside me. I can tell that if I willed it, I could use those energies like I always can, even if my muscles and nerves are destroyed. Oh, its so obvious. If I could still move my arm, I would smack myself in the head. I can't believe I overlooked what I'm wearing. All that effort training makes manipulating my armor to puppeteer my body a trivial effort. With a shocking amount of ease, I make it look like I'm slowly pushing myself off the ground to face Chase.

He removed his balaclava, exposing his face to me. The gruff, haggard, surprisingly older dark-skinned man is staring at me, no, he's staring through me. The haunted look in his eyes is one Ive seen before in the mirror. The eyes of a person who's plagued by the ghosts of their past. Everything about him, from his face to his body language, is showing me he is completely exhausted. Did the realization of what happened cause this, or does he always look like this? It's good either way; he should feel guilty for his role in all of this. Lord knows I do. I'm surprised that I don't feel any satisfaction from seeing one of these false heroes brought so low by their own actions. No, I don't feel happy; all this does is make me hate them more.

Whyd you remove your mask? I asked.

After a long pause that makes me think he can't hear me, he responds.

It felt suffocating. It didn't do me much good, though; I still feel claustrophobic. I didn't see the bomb, not that it matters, but I didn't. The idea that Ares set off a nuclear weapon in the city is insane. It's such an escalation from their previous behavior that I'm struggling to come to terms with it. The idea that I played an unintentional role in it is nauseating; I'm honestly having trouble breathing. I don't know what to say, Chase said exasperatedly.

There's nothing to say. There is nothing you or anyone can say that will undo what has been done. You, we, failed today. The bad guys won. Being a hero isn't just about fighting Cowls and doing press conferences. It's about being a symbol of hope for the people you're sworn to protect. It's about giving everything you have and more in defense of what's right. And when you make a mistake, when you misstep, when you fail, you pay the price so that they don't have to, I said, standing up and pointing at the wall of the dome. I can't feel anything below my neck right now. I'm holding my body up with my power, piloting it like a human mechsuit because I have to get out there and see if I can possibly fix what happened.

How? He whispered, his voice so small and quiet. So weak. Where does the strength come from? How can you do that?

Because all Ive ever wanted since the day I triggered was to be a hero, to make a difference. My whole life, all the ups and downs has led to this moment. I told you that someone has to pay the price when the good guys fail; its my turn, I answered, before marching over to the wall. Laying my gauntleted hand palm against the dome, I start to eat away at the layers of different energy. Bit by bit, I tunnel through until my armor meets no resistance. Without a working nervous system, I can't tell if my hand is fully outside or just a little bit, so I have to use my power to search for the flavor of radiation. I find it, meaning Im already exposed to it, so I start absorbing it immediately.

I was never a huge science guy; I have no idea how much radiation a nuke contains. All I can do is keep siphoning until there is nothing left. For a brief moment, I hesitate when I really consider what the end result of this herculean task will be. Im probably not going to survive this. The damage Ive done to myself has already made me a quadrapalegic; whats a little bit of radiation? Or a lot. More and more of the dangerous energy disappears into the well, but the well is approaching max capacity. My cheeks flush with heat, and my throat dries up. Im not afraid of death; I made peace with dying years ago. I feel the tears coming back, but it isnt because Im going to die. Thank you, Nobody. You allowed me to live out a lifelong dream I had given up on. The floodgates are open, tears trailing down my face. Chin up, Miles, you get to die a Hero.

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