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WE WERE ALL VILLAINS in the beginning. For hundreds of years, prodigies were feared by the rest of the world. We became hunted. Tormented. Feared and oppressed. We were believed to be witches and demons, freaks and abominations. We were stoned and hanged and set afire while crowds gathered to watch with cruel eyes, proud to be ridding the world of one more pariah. They were right to be afraid.
It was beautiful to watch. Mesmerizing, even, as the glowing strips emerged from nothing, making the air in the apartment hum, then quieting and darkening as her father let them harden into something tangible and real.
wheeze. “You know what they say … one cannot be brave who has no fear.”
Adrian checked to be sure no one was peering down from any nearby windows, then pressed his fingers into the center of the suit’s chest piece. The armor clunked and hissed, folding in on itself like origami, rolling inward along his limbs until the suit was no bigger than a crushed aluminum can. He tucked it into the skin over his sternum and pulled up the zipper tattoo he had inked there more than a month ago.
“She’s just a newbie villain, trying to earn herself some credibility,” added Hugh. “We’ve handled a lot worse.”
It was uncanny how much the news anchor’s questions mirrored those that had been revolving through his head all day.
The great mystery. And they didn’t even know the greatest mystery of all, those words that he could not quiet. One cannot be brave who has no fear.
It had been a prime target for looters during the Age of Anarchy, but Simon felt it had too much history to be allowed to succumb to eternal abandonment. It was a symbol of a different time—a peaceful, civilized time, when society had order and rules and leadership.
a plain white note card tucked into Lady Indomitable’s belt and printed with the ambiguous phrase: “One cannot be brave who has no fear.”
A chill swept down his back. One cannot be brave who has no fear …
All revolutions come with death. Some must die so that others might have life. It is a tragedy, but it is also a truth.
What the people needed was to learn to take care of themselves, but that would never happen so long as superheroes were running things.
“Charity?” said Leroy, his voice even despite the ice digging into his jaw. “The Renegades have given us nothing. Everything we have has been bought and paid for—or fairly scavenged, just like everyone else.”
“tell her that the next time she goes after the Council, I’ll be there, waiting to destroy her. And I won’t wait for the Council’s permission to do it.”
At first, she found it haunting and eerie, with the lofted ceilings that echoed every footstep, the bell tower that had long ago fallen to silence and cobwebs, the paintings of dead saints that watched her pass with condemning eyes.
“There’s not a civilized place in this whole world where I wouldn’t be recognized, and the others too. Our reputations would precede us wherever we went. So long as anarchy is synonymous with chaos and despair, the Anarchists will always be synonymous with villains.”
Heroism wasn’t about what you could do, it was about what you did. It was about who you saved when they needed saving.
Then she leaped and her body dispersed into a cyclone of butterflies soaring upward. The creatures surrounded the projectile and Danna reformed, grabbing it with one hand and dropping back down to the ground. It was nearly a perfect catch, but as her feet touched the ground again, she let out a pained grunt and collapsed to one knee.
“There are also ten security cameras, two fire extinguishers, and five vending machines—one of which sells nothing but candy, which seriously has me questioning the Renegades’ commitment to adequate nutrition.”
He picked his way through the glass city, his bare feet making their way along Broad Street, stepping carefully over taxicabs and trees in miniature planter boxes and the occasional glass pedestrian. He was so intent at first on watching his footing that he was halfway across the city before he noticed Nova. He froze, his eyes widening.
“Wow,” she mused. “My first day on the job and I’m already an action figure.”
She was halfway through the next room when he yelled back, “You think you can throw me out a window? I’ve had mutts that were bigger than you!” Nova paused and turned back, peering at him through the doorway. “Now you have one minute.”
A bomb maker, a beekeeper, a poison distiller … and her. It sounded like the start of a bad joke.
“What exactly are we looking for?” “Villains,” Oscar said. “Doing villainous things.” Nova sent him an unimpressed look.
“So. This is the life of a superhero.” She glanced up at Adrian. “No wonder everyone wants to be one of you.”
“He wants to know where you got your power,” said Ruby, slapping down a new card. “Was it the result of some personal trauma?” said Oscar. “Or human experimentation or alien abduction?”
Nova gaped at him. It felt so … so silly, in comparison to what she had been taught all her life. The strong over the weak. An eye for an eye. If someone wronged you or yours, then you did what you had to do to ensure it didn’t happen again. Which often meant killing the one who had wronged you. Every one of the Anarchists had countless deaths on their hands. She could remember nights when they sat around talking about their most brutal kills. Bragging about them. Laughing about them. When they’d developed the plan for Nova to take out Captain Chromium, Leroy had joked about throwing her a
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But the power they knew about, the fact that Nova never slept … that had come later. When, for weeks, every time she shut her eyes, gunshots rang in her ears.
Why did you stop sleeping? he would ask. And against every ounce of logic inside her, she would answer. I fell asleep—the very last time I ever slept. And when I woke up, there was a man with a gun. He killed them both. He killed my sister. He tried to kill me. And the Renegades didn’t come … After that, every time I tried to sleep I would hear it happening all over again, until, eventually, I stopped trying. That was her origin story. The whole of it.
She had always been astonished by people who could fall asleep fast, like there was nothing to it. Like their spirits weren’t burdened with suffering and resentment. Like their hearts and minds could so easily be at peace.
He unfolded his arms and Nova saw that he was still clutching the leather book he’d had inside the rare books room. “But I remember everything,” he whispered. “Every single word. This knowledge. It will not be lost.” He shut his eyes
“Do you think I might be evil?” Adrian’s eyebrows shot up. He leaned back, pulling the marker’s tip away from the unfinished drawing. “Or…,” Max continued, “that I have some evil powers in me?”
“These doubts … these insecurities … they will come to serve you well, Nightmare.” He listed his head toward her. “After all, one cannot be brave who has no fear.”
One cannot be brave who has no fear.
