Chapter 2 - The Outsider

Year 2XXX/12/31, Gotham city, Avenue 9

Filled with citizens from all kinds, old and young, men and women, shop owners, homeless and many others, the avenue guided the mass toward the city's oldest district, Old Gotham where stood giant slabs in black marble and marked with a thousand names in goldish letters with a single date 2XXX/12/07.

When Isaac and Emma arrived at the twelves slabs, the memorials' shadowed the place with their three meters height. Both addressed a silent prayer to the dead and deposed a white bouquet of immortelles before moving toward the tenth slab where were engraved names starting with an 's'.

...'Starr, Jonny'...'Stewart, Michael', 'Stewart, Annah', 'Stewart, Benjamin'...'Stone, Emma'...'Straadford, James'...'Stradaniya, Andrew'...

Isaac's eyes stared at the golden letters. Hidden among many, his father's name was engraved into the marble. It didn't stand out nor was invisible, it just was there. It shouldn't be there, it couldn't be here, there had to be a mistake, it couldn't be possible, Andrew wasn't dead, he was just missing, only missing, not dead, not dead, thought Isaac.

No rain colored the sky but Isaac's face was wet.

" Brother, take this. May the old blood bring you peace. ", a man in a white tunic covered by a crimson scapular with a hood hiding his face offered an entire white bread together with a bottle of water to Isaac before moving on and gifting all the resources he had in his backpack to the surrounding people.

Dazed, the teenager glanced at his now hands full. He didn't know how to react, he didn't expect that, nor the many accidents happening in his life. In his mouth, the bread tasted empty. It was soft, light, but unable to bring him back any comfort.

Emma watched Isaac's hair, dark just like Andrew's or the black dress she wore since then. They had to be strong she thought while her arms embraced Isaac's head. At least, they survived, they were alive, Emma's grip strongly consoled her silent son.

" No more Alien ! ", shouted a man brandishing today's newspaper. Despite his unshaved face, worn-out vest and holed pants, the man attracted everyone's eyes, especially when behind him stood a hundred people with wordy placards, black masks and baseball bats.

" Bring justice to Superman ! ", someone from the followers screamed out.

" Our planet ! Our freedom ! ", the new group advance toward the slabs. The seemly leader put a hand in his pocket. He threw a dollar to the marbles stones before walking into the Avenue 9.

" Mankind ! ", a woman yelled from the group. She made eye contact with Isaac, anger burned through her throat. " MANKIND !!! ", she lifted her only arm high into the air.

" No more Alien ! ", the group repeated with the same voice.

From behind, a white-haired man pushed Isaac away. The older man wore a black three pieces, dustless shoes and a resentful face. Without hesitation, he grabbed one woman from the shouting group and threw her on the ground. The moment another protester came into the older man's reach, he was punched in the gut and kicked away.

" LOOK !!! LOOK AT YOU ! UNGRATEFUL ! UNGRATEFUL !!! ", the old but unexpectedly strong old man raised his arms high. " Respect SUPERMAN he is our SAVIOR !!! ", he stood in his place even when the protesters surrounded him. " He's more human than any of you fucking ungrateful waste ! ", the old man gritted his teeth. Among the protesters he recognized at least a dozen of them who were here just for violence.

" Grandpa, don't force us to bring you closer to your savior. ", a protester in a black bodysuit hit the concrete with his bat whose head harbored a crown of nails. Two similarly clothed people joined the first man with metallic bars in their hands.

Spectators stepped back a few meters away or for some familly, ran away from this soon-to-be bloody place.

" You... fucking pieces of shit. ", the old man restrained himself to not engage the fight right now. " Superman saves us all. He saves us from a threat beyond anything we faced before. He- ", the old man couldn't finish his sentence when a glass bottle explode on the back of his skull.

The three men didn't waste a second and jumped into the opportunity. They didn't go for a close contact beating, but grabbed any trash laying on the street and started stoning the living target. Empty cans, pebbles, wrapped newspapers, trashbin and wood plank were flying in bigger numbers as more people joined the targeting.

The woman the old man threw on the ground earlier took her shoes off and sent them flying. She had bruises on her face. Even days after Superman's fight, her injuries didn't heal fully nor did her pain or suffering like the many she followed today.

The crowd shouted all its anger on the old man protecting his face with his arms whose skin started glowing redder by the second.

" Superman killed my mother ! "

" Why did he destroy our city ! "

" Why I lost my brother ! "

" I can't live normaly anymore, Superman made me disable ! "

" I've no more home ! "

" ENOUGH !!! ", a torrent of fire erupted from the old man's hand. It reached the three men in black suit first, consuming their flesh in less than a second. The heat melted the concrete and a burned meat and plastics smell filled the place with now escaping people trampling on the unlucky ones who fell in the general agitation.

The old man laughed. For all his life, he tried to hide his gift, he tried to fit in, to be like the others, to be normal until he saw his savior. Different from the other, Superman saved people with his amazing power, he even saved his granddaughter from a criminal car accident last year.

Today, he couldn't bear all those hypocrites and ungratefuls whose lives were saved. They didn't deserve to live, they should have died, the old man believed. He knew it was a crime, he wanted to reason those people first but the sight of the same criminals walking free in daylight, overrode his plan.

He could never be the same as Superman, but he could work his way to make the world a better place with his own hands and inspire future generations to do like superman and accept their singularity for the best he hoped. But first, he had a ton of trashs to clean up before Gotham's police force came here and put him under the bars.

Red flames licked his forearm without burning his skin.

Isaac Barely had the time to blink when another heatwave hit the crowd. flames toasted a group of four people two feet away on his right. For Isaac, time seemed to pause when the deadly red color approached his mother's head. He couldn't let it happen, not now, not here, not ever. His brain pulsed like a bomb under his skull. The pain couldn't stop.

Maybe he hallucinated, but Isaac felt something bursting out of his skull straight toward his horrified mother's face. The flames torrent setting clothes and bodies on fire alike almost grazed Emma's skin when an invisible force smashed her on the ground.

Isaac clenched his skull till it bled.

" You are not alone ! ", the fire generator steeled himself. He wasn't doing it out of pure sadism, he convinced himself. " We are humans too ! We deserve to live, not to hide ! ", the old man looked at the top of a streetlamp where an undamaged camera eyed his area. " We are- ", he tried to start when a gunshot punctured his left shoulder through the scapula.

Now armed with a Sig Sauer P365 XL Pistol 9mm Luger 3.7 and a brown cap, the protester's leader took aim at the old man trying to hold his breath while his right hand cauterized his injury. The second shot missed the target's head and flew into one of the slabs' marble.

The shooting man took a deep breath, aimed with both his hand supporting the handgun this time. Slowly expirating air, he focused the shoot on the collarbone as the recoil was stronger than anticipated for his weak arms. He pressed the trigger the moment the old man looked in his direction. The bullet deviated slightly and pierced a hole just above the old man's left eye.

" No more Alien. ", threw the gun into a manhole cover. Even if he was arrested, he didn't really care. He already lost something too dear to him because of Superman's fight. " No more Alien ! ", he waved at his remaining crowd for the members who didn't escape. It didn't really matter, he thought.

" NO MORE ALIEN !!! "

" NO MORE ALIEN !!! "

" NO MORE ALIEN !!! "

The smaller group repeated their slogan with force even when the police force arrived and put them all in the police wagon. Reporters and live videos had immortalized their message to the entire world. They did what they believed to be the right thing and didn't fall back in front of the opposition.

<hr>

<center>--- The Outsider ---</center>

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Year 2XXX/01/01, Gotham city, Stradaniya's residence

Two streets away from the Brown Bridge connecting the Cherry Hill to The Bowery south, Isaac punched with all his strength a black leather sandbag hooked from the ceiling in his building underground. Like many constructions done in the New Town district with a new gothic's exterior, the appartement had three underground levels in case of earthquake or bombs dropping from air-raids.

Isaac repeated a simple combo while his phone counted down from three minutes. Sweat glided on his face. A fast jab with his left arm followed by a second one with the right arm and a front kick to fall back from the close contact were performed while Isaac imagined hitting the corpulence of different people, taller, equal or shorter than him.

When the three minutes rang up, Isaac dropped his guard and relaxed his muscles. Since the morning he trained his body this Sunday. His legs were trembling. Water never felt better. Isaac looked at the sandbag, used and old but still in good form despite the small cut appearing where Isaac's fists landed.

Yesterday's events were fresh in his mind despite his attempts to forget. The pain, the fear and anger at his own shortcoming prevent him from sleeping that night and only the exercises helped a bit to distract himself. Andrew's body was never found, like a dozen of other victims, there was a slim hope of Andrey's survival thanks to Superman or luck tried to believe the teenager.

If that was the case, then why did dad never call to make sure he was safe somewhere, why didn't he return home, maybe he was injured in the head and had amnesia, maybe he was captured for secret experiments or maybe he was just dead like the other and his body too damaged to be found in full or partially but recognizable state countered Isaac's own rationality.

'I have to keep believing. I've to. I can't stop.' stated Isaac to himself.

Once a minute rest finished, he returned to train but this time he focus more on his legs, to do a front swipe followed by a step back and back kick to surprise the opponent who would fall in the trap. Isaac's feet felt heavy. One leg rose as fast as he could and impacted the sandbag. He stepped back but an electric pain ran through his body and he barely caught himself before sitting on the floor.

It was the fourth time he had to stop, drink, stretch and rest to heal the cramps popping up as his body was under a long stress.

Isaac set the minutor to three minutes rest then started reading articles and news about yesterday's event. Many newspapers like 'The Gotham Morning' had articles summarizing all the worked need to list the dead and missing victims to engraved in the new slabs as well as the march started by a new group called the 'Pure Humans' but there was no photo nor mention of the old man fire ability, only mention of his death under a violent outburst from local 'rioters' and congratulation to the local policemen maintaining order in this difficult times.

Even on the internet, on blogs, forums or videos platforms there were only fleeting mentions of that unnatural ability before the content was deleted.

Isaac wondered what other event the government had kept hidden. Maybe there was a lot more alien other than Superman, it wouldn't be unimaginable as some chemical and science accident could turn people into freaks like the new criminal Poison Ivy remembered the teenager. She was locked in Arkham Asylum according to the latest report Isaac read this morning.

When the timer rang, Isaac sighed. He was tired, and wished to rest more but the more inactive he was, the more he thought, the more he felt depressed and mentally broken. Isaac looked at the time almost dinner, he had to go back to the appartement. At least the day touched to its end.

Removing his gloves and legs' protection, Isaac packed away his stuff in his bag laying in the corner of the underground floor. Years ago that place was filled with a dozen of family, now, it was almost empty except for him. With a new gang wandering around this district was less secure and attractive than before. Many families just left when they had enough money for a less dangerous city.

Isaac took one last sip in his water bottle before detaching the sandbag and took it with his bag to leave the underground. Slowly but surely, he took steps after steps in the staircase as the elevator was under maintenance for the week.

When Isaac reached the second floor and the first fourth door he was welcomed by a dark appartement lighted only by a few candles in the kitchen.

" Happy birthday Isaac. ", Emma hugged her son. She had spent the day mourning for Andrew and her and Isaac's future deaths. She knew it was wrong, but when fire from the madman almost incinerate her, she touched death by a hair length and her own mortality never felt this close before.

Hopefully, at least she had a cake in the freezer prepared for the occasion as she had no strength for making one herself today.

" Thank's mom. ", Isaac kissed Emma on the cheek. She smelled alcohol. She had dark circles under her eyes. Her clothes didn't change from the morning and were just her dark pajamas. The windows' shutters were closed and the television turned on.

" Eat first Isaac, I'm not hungry. ", Emma smiled a bit. She tried her best but today wasn't her day. She even wondered if she would call the school tomorrow to ask for medical leave as her psychologue told her in her phone call. Emma's mouth turned into a bigger smile when her son split the cake in three, one portion for him and one portion for her.

In silence, he ate then clean himself in the shower.

" ...The Church of Blood is organizing a charity soup for tomorrow in... "

" ...Bruce Wayne is found in presence with the young model Catherine Douglas... "

" ...hobbos are not the problems but the consequence of... "

The television was turned off by Isaac who noticed Emma sleeping on the couch. He covered her with a blanket, put the beers bottles into the trash bin before going to his own room to sleep. Slight pain under his skull made him frown. He had this kind of episode since he woke up from the coma in the hospital.

The doctor prescribed him some aspirin which he took every morning and every night before sleeping but the effect diminished with time. Isaac wanted to take more but restrained himself and follow the instructions, it shouldn't last for long he hoped.

<hr>

<center>--- The Outsider ---</center>

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Year 2XXX/01/02, Gotham city, Aquinas High School

Isaac didn't feel right passing by the school's gate. Everything was at the same time different and familiar. The main building for science classes and laboratory was rebuilt since the last event but the paint was now dark blue with white stripes instead of the previous grey color schema.

The tree where he laid next to after being crashed by the car was nowhere to see, instead stood a steel plate with the name of students whose lives were lost on the 2XXX/04/02. Some students from different classes seemed to recognize him but made no attempt to get close.

Isaac shook his head.

Frank Miler was one of the few friends he made when entering high-school in his first year but it was obvious Frank wasn't here nor any of his other friends, Kevin Malt and Edouard Pouech. Kevin left the city with his parent and cut all ties with Isaac as it recalled him that life in Gotham while Edouard just left school and home with no news for months.

Isaac had studied in the hospital and at home to catch up on all the material he missed but even with all his efforts he doubted he could pass the final exams without some more night studies. When he entered his class, he noticed the class president talking to the jocks about some competitions with athletes from Gotham City High School.

When the class started for the day, Isaac felt the stares on his back and the empty chairs. Both his neighbors on the left and right weren't here today. Cassie and Betty maybe thought Isaac. He wasn't that close to them anyway nor did the effort to try as they used to ignore his presence.

Lessons after lessons, lunchtime rang true and Isaac's mind woke up from his mechanical writing down what he listened from the professor. He wasn't as lost as he believed he would be, most of the lesson he understood as he already read in his self-study but the practical parts with mathematical functions were a bit difficult for him.

Isaac massaged his temples. Under his skull, his blood throbbed and it hurt. He hesitated to take a pill to calm down the symptoms but the more he took, the more he built resistance to the effect.

" You're not welcome here, Stradaniya. ", someone stood in front of Isaac's desk. The classmate wearing the same black and green uniform as Isaac was none other than the class president, Marco Rossi a rich son of two successful lawyers.

" Fuck off. ", Isaac put his books and notebooks in his bags.

" Who do you think you're talking to ?!! ", Marco slammed his right hand on Isaac's book. Attracting the attention of the remaining students in the class. The professor and a third had already left to eat at the canteen.

" Move your hand bastard. ", Isaac stood up. He towered the class president by a few centimeters now. A bit surprised, Isaac didn't notice he grew up since the last time he was in this class by a dozen of centimeters. Now he was taller than Marco.

" Watch your mouth terrorist. ", Rossi waved his hands and two sturdy students put their hands on Isaac's shoulders, pinning him in place. " You and Frank were good friends. ", he said aloud and slowly for the fourteen other classmates to hear. " Aquinas High School is a good place. It shouldn't allow criminals and immigrants like you among ourselves. Your place is next to your friend, in prison. ", he started to laugh, followed by his helpers.

" You are the illegal wop Marco. ", Isaac didn't care at all about this prodigal son whose scored the highest in every test and licked the pants off any professor willing to lose some time. " You should return to Italy, I heard there they need some bad pizza maker to attract more tourists and your parents- ", Isaac kicked the desk with all his strength the moment he saw Rock becoming red and raising his fist.

With the same amount of strength he used to spend with that frontal kick since he trained for it, Isaac this time didn't push away the 31 kilos sandbag but propelled the wooden desk straight into the class president's guts at the same time he gained momentum to jump back and push away one of the two jock on his side.

" Your mama never teach you how to make pasta ? ", Isaac sneered. He wasn't that violent before but at the same time, the adrenaline made him feel alive and light.

" You'll regret that Stradaniya. ", the class president gritted his teeth. " Jack, Simon what're you waiting for ? Get him ! ", with a frustated slap on their backs Marco tried to make them obey but they hesitated.

" You know Marco, I can't risk getting injured or expelled we got an important match next week with Gotham City High School. ", the blond student named Jack stepped aside. He didn't like the look in Isaac's eyes. What if that dude went nut like the other one and then 'baam' a new school shooting thought Jack.

" You fucking coward. Simon, you're with me ? Like a real man, right ? ", Marco took a bag and threw it toward a girl who screeched as her phone recording the scene broke its screen on the impact. " What are you filming you little cunt ! Mind your own ! ", he tried to grab her phone but stopped as she wasn't the only one filming or taking pictures.

Isaac lost any interest in remaining here or attending school for the day.

When he reached the classroom door a flying chair flew toward his head. He raised his arms to protect himself. The chair's foot moved straight for his left eye if he could stop it in time. His reaction was fast but not enough. His hand was ten centimeters from touching the chair and his body tried to evade it to the side but instead of hitting his eye now, it was on the path to impact his forehead.

for a splitting second time froze. With a clarity better than anything he had before, Isaac saw the metallic chair's path right into his flesh but the moment it barely touched his skin, the chair changed its trajectory as an intense pain puncture his skull and his hand finaly caught the object.

Isaac didn't listen to the background noise. He put the chair on the floor and left in silence. That pain was the same he endured during the madman killing spray. Something liquid dropped onto his lips, iron-like and viscous. With a swipe of his hand he understood.

He needed to think, to be away for a moment.

After he left the school's ground, his feet guided him through the city. He walked for a while with no goal in mind. Then, without noticing, in a different district from his own, he stood in front of a gothic cathedral opened to the public with a few visitors and monks in white tunics covered by crimson scapulars.

" Welcome young man, welcome to the Church of Blood. May you find peace in the old blood. ", a white-haired monk with countless wrinkles greeted Isaac.