From The Mighty Doc Stalwart #266

From The Mighty Doc Stalwart #266 (Backup story)

Epilogue

Twilight Archer paused. He drew a breath, “Wow, that’s tiny.”

Mikah snickered, “so was I.”

There it was. The costume that Mikah had worn as Doc Stalwart’s sidekick now hung in a sealed case, the centerpiece in the office that once belonged to Mr. Silvers. That was a long time ago. At least, it felt that way to Mikah.

“Strange. You wore that just a few weeks ago,” Twilight Archer had stepped from the case that now dominated the center of this smaller-than-you-would-expect office. He seated himself in front of Mikah. He didn’t act like someone who was now in the presence of the Chronicle, at a desk that had borne witness to some of the most important conversations in human history. Mikah had been told, repeatedly it seemed, that he was now one of the most significant beings on earth. Maybe Twilight Archer didn’t care. Or maybe it was just that Twilight Archer spent most of his time among the most significant beings on the earth. This was another day at the office.

Mikah had cleared his desk but for a single folder. Twilight Archer looked at it, and then looked up, “I assume that’s why you asked me to come in?”

Mikah let his index finger brush against the folder, and the various forces that had driven him to create it coursed through his mind. He withdrew his finger. He nodded.

“I saw something. A vision. In the Null Zone.”

Twilight Archer nodded. Then he waited. He must have presumed there was more to say. Seemed no reason to rush this.

“Fragments of the future. Things to happen. Soon. I need you to help get things ready.”

Twilight Archer cocked his head, “You work with Doc Stalwart. Earth’s Mightiest Mortal. I’d think he’d probably be told about this first.”

Mikah shook his head, “I love Doc. Love him. But no. This is. It’s different. He wouldn’t agree.”

“To what?”

“To what I’m going to ask you to do.”

“And that is?”

“Open the folder.”

Twilight Archer opened it. Inside were familiar forms. These were the standard documents used among this community to create profiles of superhumans. Heroes, villains, those yet to be determined. “These are all kids. They’re so young.”

“Yes. Very young. I need you to train them.”

Twilight leaned back in his chair. “Again, this sure seems like a Doc thing. He trained you.”

Mikah couldn’t look up. Doing something behind Doc’s back was a new experience for him, and he wasn’t particularly enjoying it. “Yes. But he avoided putting me in any real danger. He always put himself out there. He was always confident that he was going to take the bullet. He believed he would never allow me to experience actual peril. I did, of course, but that was despite his best efforts. He never willingly left my side. He would never leave me to fend for myself.”

“And this is different?”

“This is different. You have to train these kids. And you have to let them live… or die… on their own.”

Twilight Archer paused. He knew all too well about people who were too young for this life. His own sister was one. Vesper was still a teenager, and she had already seen and done too many things that had ripped her childhood from her, a fragment at a time. It was Twilight Archer’s biggest regret. It was the one thing he wished he could fix. “I can’t do that again.”

“You’re the only one who can. You’re willing to do the wrong thing for the right reason. Doc will only ever do the right thing. I know this is the wrong thing. But you have to believe me that it’s for the right reason. It’s for the best reason. It might be the only hope we have.”

Twilight Archer stood up. He opened the folder and spread the four files in front of him. Aria, daughter of the ancients.  Cadet, the boy patriot. Minnow, child of Atlantis. Windsprint, the swiftest kid in the world. They belonged in middle school, not battle. He was about to say no, but saw the desperation in Mikah’s eyes. He had seen something. He knew something. It was something he could not tell, but he felt it in his very soul. And if anyone knew what it was like to have your childhood ripped from you, it was Mikah. If he believed this was a risk they had to take, then it was a risk they had to take.

Twilight Archer carefully placed the files back into the folder and slid it into his satchel. “I’ll get to work right away.” 

Mikah closed his eyes and nodded.

As the door closed, Mikah dropped his head on his arms on his desk. For the first time since he and Doc set out for the Null Zone, he wept. He hated himself for what he’d just had to do. He hated fate for putting him in this position. 

And he asked the universe that he would be forgiven.