“Seven
years ago I made a huge mistake. No, I’m not going to tell you what happened;
that secret is my own personal cross to bear. But that night I learned
something that has carried me on since. These abilities we have, this power
that we wield, is nothing if we do not have control over it. You can have all
the power in the world, and yet not know a damn thing about using it. Power
without control makes a person dangerous; it makes them a threat. I have done
nothing for all these years but learn how to control the power that courses
through my body. Yes, I have gotten more powerful in the process. But it is
only due to my control that I have such power. And that power is what drew his
attention to me.”
“His
name is Brian Brewer, although presently he only answers to the name Sewage.
…No, I’m not joking, Tony. His ability allows him to create and completely
control microscopic organisms that deteriorate matter at incredible speeds,
turning most objects to sludge or piles of dust in a matter of minutes,
depending on the molecular makeup. The organisms stay within the decayed
material too, meaning he can then use that material as weapons as well, moving
it as he desires. It truly is an amazing ability, and one that requires a lot
of practice and control to master. That’s where I came into the picture.”
“I
met him about eight months ago. I was approached by him a few days after I
saved the college I was going to from an unstable metahuman. He saw the power I
held within, and needed my help. At that time he was a wreck; his ability
wasn’t under control at all, and almost everything he touched was rotting right
under him. He was living in the school’s dumpster, just trying to survive and
not bring any attention to him. He was terrified the GMA would deem him too
dangerous for the public and lock him up. Looking back he was probably right,
but hindsight’s twenty/twenty, ya know? So I decided to help him. He wasn’t the
first metahuman I’ve tried to help, so I kinda knew what I was doing.”
“For
the next couple of months I trained with him every day, learning about his
ability and trying to help him control it. All I could do was give him
encouragement; the rest was all on him. But seeing what I could do and how much
power I had gave him all the motivation he needed. Three months after we
started he could walk around in public without worrying about accidently
sending a swarm of deteriorating micro-bugs at a car just by looking at it. It
was great, and he seemed so happy. But he wanted more. He didn’t just want to
learn how to control it anymore; according to him he had all the control he
needed. Now he wanted power. He wanted to do the great things he saw me doing,
all the things I told him he would be able to do with his ability. He wanted it
all right now. I tried to tell him it would take time, but he wouldn’t listen.
The next two months I saw him less and less. He said he didn’t need me as much,
but I knew he was really pushing himself to get stronger. To prove that I was
wrong, and that he was ready for greatness.”
“It
all came to a head one night about two months ago as I was leaving the campus.
He stopped me and wanted to show me all the power he now had. It was…terrible.
Amazing what he learned how to do, yes. But the execution was botched; he had
no control over all this new power. He ended up leveling half a building before
disappearing into the night, leaving nothing but a huge mess to clean up the
next day. And I could only do so much, not being licensed as I am. I did my best
to stop it, but I was busy trying to get people out of the way. All in all, not
a good day, and ever since I’ve been looking for signs of him, trying to find
him so I can right the wrong I did. Unfortunately I think the damage has been
done. He won’t listen to me, and he’s so caught up in his quest for power that
I don’t think he’ll ever stop on his own accord.”
At
this point, Matt stopped. Marian, Tony, and Francis were sitting around a table
in the conference room, listening to his story. Brian, the metahuman known as
Sewage, was locked in one of Frontier’s holding cells in an underground section
a few dozen yards from the mansion. For a few moments the three Frontier
members sat, absorbing the information they just heard. Finally Tony broke the
silence.
“See?
I told you he was a good guy. And you flipped shit when I brought him back.”
“That’s
because you’re not supposed to bring random strangers back to the mansion,
Tony!” Marian quipped, her voice rising in anger. “And how do we know he’s a
good guy? He’s not licensed, and he just admitting to training a potentially
dangerous villain.”
Matt
shuffled his feet, unnerved by the conversation. He had heard the scolding
Marian had given Tony when they arrived early in the day, and he felt bad for
Tony. The guy didn’t seem all that bad, so far. Francis was different. Older,
more reserved, it was his idea to hear Matt out. It seemed to Matt that Francis
had been in the superhero business for a long time, which gave him an idea.
“I
really am a good guy, though. Francis, have you ever heard of the superhero
named Burnout?”
To
this, Francis’ eyes widen. “Of course I have. Who hasn’t heard stories of him?
The man was a true hero, through and through. Hell, I can even say I’ve had the
pleasure of working with him at one point, quite some time ago. Why do you
ask?”
Matt
smile sheepishly. “Burnout is my father.”
Francis
nearly jumped out of his seat, but the startled glances from Marian and Tony
made him collect himself. “My word, now that you mention it, you do bear a
striking resemblance to him. But I had no idea. I knew his son was a metahuman
who exhibited powers at a rather young age, but other than that no information
had surfaced. Burnout had always kept his personal life away from the
limelight.”
“Yeah,
he doesn’t like to toot his own horn. Neither do I, coincidentally, hence the absent
superhero license.”
“But
how can you remain unregistered?” Marian piped in. “If your dad was such a
well-known meta, shouldn’t you have been first on the list?”
“Oh,
they know I’m a metahuman, but they don’t know the extent of my abilities. I
was only ever registered once, and that was a very long time ago. And I’m not a
licensed superhero. I’ve never done
anything public with my abilities for years, since all my training’s been in
secret. The few times something’s happened and gotten on the GMA’s radar, like
with Brian’s incident, I’ve fled before they got there. I don’t want to be
known as a hero until I feel like I am ready. I have too many demons still
plaguing me; my past is haunted by mistakes. I’m not ready to fight the good
fight and be loved by the public.” Matt paused, “I’m not ready to be a hero.”
They
were all quiet for a moment. Finally Francis stood up and walked over towards
Matt, extending a hand. Matt took it with a slight smile. “Well Matt, I’ve been
around long enough to know when someone’s lying about something. You are not.
Frontier is here to help if you need anything. Now tell me, what did you have
in mind for this Sewage character?”
Matt’s
smile died, and he sighed. “I don’t know. I guess there’s no choice but to turn
him over and hope he can be rehabilitated. I’d wanna help him, but like I said,
I think it’s past that point.”
“Why
don’t we go ask him?” Marian questioned, standing up along with Tony. “It
couldn’t hurt.”
The
four of them walked to the holding cells, which were in an underground bunker.
Frontier’s policy was not to hold any villains, but they were there just in
case. The cells themselves were fortified and meant to temporarily hold the
more powerful villains. As a team of metahumans, they had to be prepared for
anything.
When they entered the corridor,
they were hit with a foul stench, stopping them in their tracks. “Shit!” Matt
yelled, running headfirst into the darkened hallway. A ball of energy appeared
in Matt’s hand, illuminating the holding cells. The rest were right behind him
when the light fell on the cell that had held Brian. More curses were uttered
when they saw the cell walls rotted and falling down, and a hole in the floor
that led into the sewer system below. Sewage had escaped.
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