### Shall we fly?
I had serious doubts about Will. How could I convey to him, without telling the truth about Nolan, of course, the deadly necessity of keeping the existence of my superpowers a secret? What could be a plausible reason for this? I even had to be glad that due to the circumstances of my revelation we couldn't talk right away, and I got a little time to come up with some elegant solution to the problem. A cunning lie... well, you know, the protagonist of a story must possess this resourcefulness, this savvy that would allow him to get out of the most difficult scrapes... he must, right?
Damn...
Will showed up at my house the morning after the robbery, and at such an early hour when all normal kids are still drooling on their pillows, finishing their dreams.
We always had a rule—no guests in the house. This was because of my father, so he wouldn't have to worry about being seen in his suit when returning from another mission. But this time Mom made an exception for me and allowed me to bring the guest into my room. Dad gave us a disapproving look but didn't contradict his wife; besides, right after breakfast, he went to the publishing house to discuss a new book with his agent. Today he supposedly has a day off from superhero business—unless something catastrophic happens, the Guardians will handle it themselves—and he decided to settle matters regarding his official job.
Actually, I am sometimes amazed at how much my father took upon himself and how little he expects from his wife in return. I know for a fact that Nolan never took money from either the government or his colleagues—War Woman and Darkwing are outrageously rich and sponsor all the activities of the Guardians of the Globe, and have repeatedly offered Nolan a helping hand, but he always refused. And despite the fact that he spends most of his time fulfilling the duties of Omni-Man, he also fully provides for our family through his second job, leaving his wife only to maintain order in the house and cook. And he called this workaholic regime a vacation and relaxation compared to what his life was like before Earth. In general, whichever way you look at it: this union can in no way be called equal and egalitarian. Unless Nolan really does view Mom as a pet...
For me, my father's constant busyness was only a plus. Barely going up to my room, I immediately drew the curtains and turned on the music—precautions so no one would hear us. You can call me paranoid, but the bug I found in the ventilation was quite real—for those guys from the Global Defense Agency, no personal boundaries or norms of decency exist!
"Oh, how serious everything is..." Clockwell drawled ironically, watching my manipulations, and then, shaking his phone, continued. "And why didn't you answer?! I called you yesterday. Oh, what's with the creepy look? Dude, don't look at me like that!"
"Because this is not a phone conversation, I told you to calm down and wait!" Clockwell had indeed tried to call me last night.
Right when my dad and I were watching a TV series on cable. Naturally, I couldn't answer when the main reason for all this game of conspiracy was right next to me, and in general, one shouldn't discuss any issues related to my second homeland—I'm talking about Viltrum right now, not the USSR—over an unsecured line. And one shouldn't forget about the Global Defense Agency, which, since they took it upon themselves to plant bugs in the ventilation, undoubtedly wiretaps the phones of everyone in this house.
"Easy for you to say: calm down. It's not every day you find out you live next door to a superhero. Hey, what's your power? Are you just fast like that guy from Russia or can you do something else? Can you fly?"
This guy is too energetic, as if *he's* the one who got superpowers.
"Will, you have to promise that you won't blab to anyone, not a single fucking soul, about what you saw and about what you're going to hear now."
"But I..." he tried to object.
"Otherwise I won't tell you anything and will deny everything you've made up for yourself," I immediately interrupted him.
"No! You won't do that to me!" Will objected in shock. "I saw everything with my own eyes!"
"And what did you see?" by the way, he couldn't have seen much, I moved too fast. "And most importantly: who will believe you? So, either promise, or..."
I jerked my head toward the door.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" but not waiting for an answer, he agreed anyway. "Alright, I promise."
If only I had confidence in the reliability of your words. And Clockwell, apparently sensing my skeptical mood, decided to expand his oath, adding details and confidence to his voice.
"I promise that I won't tell anyone that my best friend has superpowers and is a paranoid asshole to boot," and sarcasm.
"Hmm..."
"Well, what else? Tell me already, what are your powers, where did you get them from?"
And here is the hardest part.
I can't really tell him that I returned to the past and simultaneously ended up in another universe... it's too crazy, and no one should know about it. Even just revealing the secret of Viltrum and my father is too early, especially to someone like Will.
"You've probably heard that the government is looking for ways to create superweapons, super-soldiers, stamped-out superheroes in the end?" I started my inspired lie... although it's not exactly a lie, more accurately, not a lie at all, it's all true: Rex went through a similar project in his childhood, and Eve is entirely a government-engineered superweapon on a genetic level; it just has nothing to do with me. But I don't have to tell Will what he can figure out for himself...
"Are you saying?" Clockwell tensed all over with excitement.
"Yes, I'm saying that some of these projects are not fiction, although the world usually doesn't know about the real victims of such experiments—it's not profitable for anyone, and they themselves don't want publicity. Most of these projects inevitably fail, but there are exceptions, and there are exceptions among exceptions."
"What? Can you speak more clearly, I'm confused?"
"Sometimes it happens that the people involved in such projects, sometimes even in leading roles, realize the gravity of their crimes and try to fix the atrocities committed. For example, they falsify a failed outcome of the experiment and substitute a newborn baby, who is such a superweapon, into a family that lost a child at birth... so no one suspects."
"O-o-oh... holy shit, and you are such a project?" Did he buy it? It seems he bought it.
"But suspicions always remain," I continued in a conspiratorial tone, ignoring the question. "People from the government suspect deception, dig the earth with their noses, search, search, search..."
Yes, I blatantly stole Eve's story, but... I never said that this story is mine! So technically I wasn't even lying to Will.
"I can't show my powers, no one should know that I have them, not the government, not the press, not even my parents. Right now only two people know about this—you and I, and that's how it should stay in the future. Can I trust you?"
"My lips are sealed!" Will exclaimed with delight in his eyes. "Can you fly?"
Oh, crap, I know what he's thinking about...
---
However, in the end, this incident also had positive consequences on my life. I would even say that the pros outweighed the cons. Of the latter, there was only the risk that Clockwell would eventually blab to someone, but here I might have underestimated him, and as for the former...
Will's help turned out to be very handy in my training. I no longer used him blindly; on the contrary, he himself was always ready to cover for me and help with excuses for my absences. Fortunately, understanding that I didn't even risk flying alone, he didn't ask to "take a flight" with him, after about the tenth refusal...
And just talking to someone who knows about my secret was pleasant and useful for the cause and, perhaps, for my psyche—except that the topic of the government was taboo for us, as I didn't want to dodge and make up fairy tales again.
"But you're not going to hide like this all your life?" Will asked me during one of these conversations about the present and the future, passing me a bag with "my" purchases.
We were relaxing—me after training in the ocean, and Will after a run through comic book stores, where he supposedly was with me—in the park by the fountain, eating ice cream. It was one of the last days of vacation, and it turned out to be surprisingly hot and stuffy for autumn. Although I supposedly don't fear either heat or cold, such stuffy weather is still not my thing. And it's even worse for the others, well, except for the ice cream vendors and air conditioners—they're happy.
"No, of course not," I answer immediately. "When I become strong enough, I'll be able to act more openly."
"Uh-huh... and haven't you thought that you could put on a suit right now?" Clockwell suddenly asked.
I looked at him like he was an idiot: "What have I been telling you all these months—I can't reveal myself!"
"I mean," as if not noticing my look and the encoded message in it, Will continued his thought. "Your abilities: strength, speed, and flight—it's not something unusual by which you could be immediately recognized. It's basically a standard set that, to one degree or another, every fifth person has, well, except maybe for flight. Immortal, Thor-Boy, War Woman, Red Ghost, Black Samson, Martian Man... yes, this list can go on forever, Omni-Man in the end."
"You realize you just listed the strongest heroes on the planet?" I answer a question with a question. "Well, except for Thor, and does he fly?"
"Doesn't he fly?" Will was surprised. "Damn, I don't remember, he cosplays the God of Thunder from myths, and Gods must fly. Anyway, you get what I mean: it's not necessary to show everything you're capable of, there are a bunch of teenage teams you could join..."
"No!" I interrupted him. "No teenage teams. Definitely. No!"
"Well, oka-a-ay," Clockwell drawled. "But even if not in a team, you make yourself a completely closed suit so your face can't be seen, you could, for example, refuse to fly so as not to attract much attention, or hold back your strength, or come up with some legend that wouldn't tie in with your real power... like you draw energy from the Sun... why not? You draw a huge Sun on your suit and come up with a motto related to it—then the big shots from the government definitely won't connect you with their project."
I imagined myself in a suit, for some reason resembling medieval armor, with a huge symbol of the Sun on the chest and in a pompously moronic pose, like the superheroes of old comics, shouting some motto, like... "Praise the sun!"
"That's..." I shook my head, driving away the delusion, and was about to say that it's all complete bullshit, but suddenly realized that I practically had nothing to counter him with. "Makes some sense..."
I fell into thought. Deeply into thought. I'm taking risks with my training anyway. This summer, I had already encountered representatives of the underwater people twice and even found one large sea monster, which I admittedly didn't fight because it was peacefully slumbering three hundred miles off the coast of Japan, but I still sent a couple of smaller and more aggressive ones to feed the fishes. Yes, so far I managed to swim away from the Ichthyander scouts faster than they could catch me or call their king—and that guy is pretty fast underwater, maybe even faster than me—and defeat the creatures that attacked me before anyone noticed the consequences of the underwater battle, but the risk is increasing, and that's a fact. And the idea with something flashy that would make my image far from Omni-Man was also good—it's a pity I didn't think of it myself—only the Sun doesn't fit, half the planet already thinks that Omni-Man gained his power due to the influence of our star on him.
"Yeah?" Will himself was surprised that I approved his idea.
"It's just the suit..." I can't go to Rosenbaum—even if he doesn't know my face right now, he might guess. "I need to get a good costume maker somewhere."
Arthur is, of course, the best, but he can't be a monopolist in this field, can he? There are heroes from other countries, and just lesser ones, they also buy their equipment from someone, including suits...
In the worst case scenario, if I can't find a normal and reliable tailor—and also money to pay for the suit—I can ask Eve for a favor. For her, it's definitely not a problem to turn even everyday clothes into a superhero suit.
"Wait, are you really going to do it?" Clockwell perked up. "Become a real hero?"
"Maybe..." I agree, still unsure.
"And then you won't need to hide anymore!" Will continued to persuade me.
"Yeah." No, the idea is really good.
"You'll be able to fly whenever and wherever you want!" A strong argument, only, I will still do it away from my father.
"Something like that." I agree aloud.
"And you'll be able to take me for a ride."
Motherfucker, he got me after all.
I hope this won't end like last time...