The Redeemers

Introduction

The government only reminded us once before they hid behind their force field: Just 'cause someone's super, doesn't make them a hero.

Ten years ago, I learned that lesson for real. I was eight. Young and. . . well, I don't really know. A stupid Paragon wiped my memory after kidnapping me. The first thing I remember was hitting the concrete. So, yes, before you ask, I was dropped as a child. My stupid commentary and lack of common sense might be a result of that. Or, it could just be me being a total fool. One of the two.

Either way, my sudden wake-up call wasn't an accident, or the result of the Paragon tripping. It was part of an assassination attempt. A successful one at that. I can still recall the woman who saved me. Her dark skin and onyx afro. Could have sworn there was a hint of burgundy in there. A dyed streak for some accent? A statement?

Who knows, but I've been trying to find that woman for years. Trying desperately to match that face to a random passerby. Searching for a person wearing that same necklace; Gold with a single letter that fell right above her chest, an M.

Never had any luck, though. So, I gave up. Found some other obsession. And that's where the Redeemers come into play. A band of real heroes, here to save us from the barely functioning society we've become.

I shouldn't even be on the streets right now. Renegade could have his goonies making one of their daily rounds and I wouldn't want to be out here when they did.

Renegade's one of the many Paragons who'd found it in their hearts to become nothing short of a dictator. You wouldn't be caught dead saying that out loud, but it was true. The comic books from before were right. "With great power comes great responsibility." It turns out, Paragons just don't have the time nor effort to care. They've let what some used to see as blessings, corrupt them into murderers or criminals. That is while leading one of the few remaining cities.

The United States has become more like The Disconnected Cities at this point. Ordinary people had gotten superpowers; some accidently blew up a few places, others on purpose, and half the country was no more. People tried to run, but when the government hid, all the planes, boats, anything that could have gotten us out of this hellhole were sabotaged. Millions died hoping to escape.

So we tried to find those who knew how to build them from scratch. Oddly enough, they seemed to have all disappeared. Or, realized it was better to be quiet than killed. A couple of cities have managed to keep things running almost the same way as before. We have limited power, just about no currency, and no contact with the outside world. If people even managed to ever reach Canada or Mexico, we've never heard from them again.

Perhaps they're doing great. There's a chance that the rest of the planet is doing just fine. Wouldn't be surprised if they turned their backs on us the moment things started to get out of control. I wish them the best of luck when the Paragons decide that the good ol' USA isn't enough for them.

Maybe they'll enjoy the anxiety that comes with waking up in the morning and not knowing if today might be your last. Perhaps they want to have the knowledge that one day your home may become rubble because two Paragons had to duke it out, figure out who was more suited to lead. And, it may just be conceivable that they look forward to the complete lack of trust that's a product of people so worried about themselves that they can't bother to spare a crumb to help you.

I'd like to think that's the reason for our abandonment, but I know it's only the other countries having their last laugh. Athens has fallen into ruin. The city was never as grand as Gomorrah, which used to be New York, but it had a couple skyscrapers. A few still stand today. I haven't had the opportunity to climb them, though. The Hancock Tower is almost eight hundred feet tall, and is now the seat of power for Renegade.

It's my dream to walk up those steps, all sixty-one flights of them and walk into his office. I don't really understand the professionalism of it all, especially since Renegade is a middle-aged man who dresses like a rock star. What I do know is that I want to be there when he dies. All Paragons have something that makes them human like the rest of us.

Sometimes it's a situation, a phrase. I heard once that another Paragon overthrew the leader of 312 by draping a section of Widow's old wedding dress on her. It can be sensible or random. But, it's not always necessary. A lot of Paragons don't have abilities to protect them from harm. They can however kill anyone who looks suspicious or makes a move on them.

It's the ones with precognitive powers or danger sense you have to be cautious about. A few have invisible shields protecting them. They're not forcefield Paragons, but they have a secondary ability to keep them out of harm's way. From what I know, Renegade doesn't have anything like that stopping him from being assassinated, he's just not someone to mess with.

People don't feel as though they can do anything to change their fate. They think they're stuck living like this forever, slaves to some higher being. I think they're wrong. The Redeemers seem to think they're wrong. We can take control again. We might not be able to restore the America we once knew, but we can make it ours.