Chapter 17: Shadows and Sparks

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Another month passed since the invasion of Orcs tore through the streets of New York. The city had healed, more or less. The scars were still there—buildings still under repair, streets that had been repaved, and a haunting memory that lingered in the eyes of the people. Life, however, trudged forward, as it always did, burying chaos beneath the mundane rhythms of everyday existence.

Kai Vel, or Alexander as he now called himself, had slipped into the flow of normalcy with surprising ease. He lived in a modest apartment above a quiet appliance store, run by Mrs. Jenkins, a kindly old woman with a soft smile and a sharp tongue. She'd taken a liking to him from the moment he had walked into her store looking for work, his quiet demeanor and calm efficiency winning her over immediately. 

"Boy, you're built like a tank, but you handle these refrigerators like they're made of cardboard," she'd said with a chuckle on his first day, watching as Kai effortlessly moved a washing machine into place with one hand.

He had smiled back, just a slight tug at the corner of his lips, but his thoughts had been far away, always somewhere else, always vigilant.

Though he laid low, he could feel the eyes on him—constant, watchful, like a dull hum in the back of his mind. His enhanced senses picked up the faintest shifts in the air, the soft crackle of comms from hidden devices, the barely perceptible rustle of footsteps trailing him at a distance. 

A.R.G.U.S., of course. They were everywhere now, like moths drawn to the flame that was his presence. They were subtle, but not enough. To someone like him, they may as well have been waving flags, announcing their surveillance. Agents lurked in alleyways, sat on park benches with newspapers held just a bit too high, leaned against street corners with eyes darting over their shades.

They were watching. Always watching. 

And yet, despite their best efforts, Kai ignored them. Blatantly. Every day, he made his way to work, walking the same path, brushing past the same agents. He could feel their tension, the way their pulses quickened whenever he was near, but he gave them nothing. No glances. No acknowledgement. Nothing. 

Just another day in the life of Alexander—the quiet worker at Jenkins' Appliances.

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Inside the store, the hum of old televisions filled the air, mingling with the scent of polished metal and plastic. Kai stood behind the counter, his eyes half-focused on the ancient tube TV set Mrs. Jenkins kept in the corner, the kind of relic from another era that somehow still worked. The screen flickered, displaying the local news with its usual mundane chatter.

The news anchor, a sharp-featured man with a plastered smile, was rattling off the latest updates with forced enthusiasm. 

"In other news, another hero has taken down the notorious gang leader, Firestorm, and his band of rogue Metas. Thanks to the efforts of Nightwing and his team, the city of Blüdhaven can rest easy once more. Once again, our heroes have proven why they are the true defenders of justice, keeping the streets safe from these criminals—"

Kai's attention wavered. It was the same story every day. The heroes—paragons of virtue, praised for their triumphs. They were adored by the public, held up as symbols of hope and strength. Their code names rolled off the anchor's tongue like badges of honor: Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman—the usual parade of praise and applause.

But then, as was inevitable, the other side of the debate began to creep in.

"—but not everyone is so quick to celebrate," the anchor continued, his smile faltering as he shifted to a more serious tone. "Some critics are pointing out the collateral damage left behind in the wake of these battles. While our heroes may save the day, they often leave a path of destruction in their wake. Buildings leveled, streets torn apart, and the innocent lives caught in the crossfire. Just how much damage is too much? And at what cost are we paying for this so-called safety?"

The screen cut to footage of one of the recent battles, the camera panning over a devastated city block. Rubble littered the streets, cars were overturned, and emergency crews were hard at work digging through debris. The camera zoomed in on a civilian—a middle-aged man standing in front of what remained of his shop, his face a mask of anger.

"They think they're heroes? Look at this! Look at what they left behind!" the man shouted, gesturing wildly at the ruins. "My shop's gone! My livelihood, everything! And for what? So they could catch some Meta with a grudge? Who's going to help us rebuild?"

Kai watched as the debate continued, the anchor now joined by two guests—one a staunch defender of the heroes, the other a sharp-tongued critic.

"They save lives!" the defender argued passionately. "Yes, there's damage, but it's a small price to pay for the safety and protection they provide. Do you think we'd be better off without them?"

The critic, a woman with a stern expression, crossed her arms. "What good is protection when the very people doing the protecting cause more harm than the ones they're fighting? We can't keep turning a blind eye to the destruction they leave behind. There needs to be accountability!"

The debate raged on, both sides throwing statistics, anecdotes, and accusations. But amidst the shouting and the noise, Kai's thoughts drifted. It wasn't just about the destruction. The world was changing. There were more incidents every day—more aliens, more metas, more chaos. It was as if the universe itself was spilling into this world, bringing with it a tide of uncertainty and conflict.

The anchor shifted topics, his voice rising with urgency. "And now, for our top story—reports are flooding in about another surge in alien activity. Sightings of unidentified flying objects have increased by twenty percent over the past month alone, and experts are warning that Earth may soon face another invasion."

The screen flashed to images of strange crafts hovering above cities, zooming over landscapes. Analysts debated the implications, warning of potential threats. 

Kai turned away from the screen, his mind elsewhere. He knew, better than most, what was coming. The voices in his head, the whispers of his people, reminded him daily of the mission he was bound to. The invasion was inevitable—his people would come. They would conquer. And he… he was supposed to be the vanguard, the sentinel. 

But as the days passed, as he watched these people—fragile, flawed, and yet so resilient—he found himself questioning everything. The voice had told him to protect them until the last forces arrived, but why? What was the point? Was conquest really the answer? Or had he begun to see something else in these humans—a flicker of something that could change the course of everything?

Mrs. Jenkins shuffled into the room, interrupting his thoughts. "Alex, dear, could you check on the new shipment of microwaves? Should've been here by now."

Kai nodded, his thoughts falling back into routine. But even as he moved to the back of the store, he couldn't shake the feeling that the world was watching him, waiting for him to make his next move.

And deep in the shadows, across the city, A.R.G.U.S. agents remained vigilant. Waiting. Watching.