Saturday, August 27, 2011

Liberty's Cry, Part 3

Stepping outside, Patriot Star was shocked by what he saw. There might have been a hundred super heroes duking it out in street. In a way, Nathan felt like he was at a carnival, with all of the flashing lights and insane sounds flashing and reverberating through his very soul. In a short time, this man who had become resigned to stoicism suddenly found himself more comfortable with the smile he was wearing.

Realizing he didn’t want to miss out on any of the action, but still not understanding what this battle was about, he cried out, “By the star-spangles of that most illustrious banner, what foul fighting is this!?!”
“The damned Tories must be trying to stop the Convention!” Gil cried out.

“Little did they expect to meet the might of JUSTICE!” Nathan cried out, realizing he might even be louder than Gil.


Finding the most nefarious-looking fellow he could, who seemed oddly out of place as he had chains clad all across his body, Patriot Star pounced. Wishing to make an anachronistic joke about this fellow being a bit early for the punk rock convention, Patriot contented himself by merely socking the man in the face.

He was of course rather surprised when the man’s chains began moving, by themselves. In fact, Nathan felt them quickly making their way around his neck. Tugging on the chains and giving the fellow a quick boot in the chest, Nathan dislodged the chains from his neck and cried out, “A Magnetic Master of Momentous Magnitude! You may have surprised me once, fellow, but you won’t get me twice!”

Jumping on top of his adversary, Patriot Star gave him a boot to the face, laughing. The adversary spat out, “Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains.”

Patriot Star laughed, saying, “‘One man thinks himself the master of others, but remains more of a slave than they.’ You’re not the only one who’s read the words of Rousseau, chump!” Getting in close, he then proceeded to use the man’s face as a punching bag.

“And clearly, you’re not the only American who’s fond of excessive force. The chained fool is out cold. Get up, Patriot, and face me.” Realizing the voice behind him was correct, and this chained individual was quite certainly down for the count, Patriot Star warily got up and looked at the man behind him.

There was nothing there. “Invisibility’s your game then, eh?” Patriot Star asked, swiping his fist. His hand was greeted by nothing.

“Actually, I’m a ghost,” Patriot Star’s new adversary explained, “Oliver Cromwell’s ghost, since you’re curious.” Nathan saw the ghost float up through the floor. The thing turned corporeal, and proceeded to hit Nathan in the face.

“You may have drawn first blood, but how about this, chump?” Patriot Star swung his foot, in an attempt to knock the ghost down, but to no avail.

“Your physical blows will not curb me, pathetic American. Your only choice is to die.”

Clenching his fist, Nathan felt frozen. Even now, when he felt at his peak, when he was adapting the identity of the world’s greatest American hero, he couldn’t manage to defeat this ghost. All he could do, was die.

“Not so fast, ghostie!” Before Nathan could see who was behind him, his eyes burned with a bright flash. Someone leaped over Nathan’s head and kicked Oliver Cromwell’s ghost in the face. Nathan heard the sound of flesh meeting fist, before his eyes reverted back to the point where he could see again. His sight regained, he saw a young teenaged kid standing on top of the defeated ghost.

“You’ve gotta surprise ‘im, Patriot!” the youth said, “I thought you knew that!”
“Firecracker?” Nathan muttered, shaking his head.


“The one and only!” he said, “Are you alright, Patriot?”
“Fine,” Patriot said, “Fine.”


As Firecracker helped him up, Nathan looked around. He realized the fight was over.

“Boy, Patriot. I sure am glad all you super guys came when you did. I don’t think I could have taken all those guys on!”
“Merely here to help, lad,” Patriot felt even more sore than before. Maybe he wasn’t quite at the prime he thought he was. But then he looked at Firecracker. He looked at the boy’s soft blue eyes, his youthful enthusiasm, and he was saddened. He thought back to the history books, the things they’d said. Why would the Patriot Star of this era kill the teenager? Did he really betray the Revolution?
“Patriot, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, lad. I have but to ask,” Patriot considered the ramifications of what he was doing and came to the realization that he didn’t care, “a question.”
“I’m all ears,” Firecracker said, “Shoot.”


“Have you ever considered betraying America?”
“Why would you ask a danged strange question like that, Patriot?” Firecracker said, laughing, “I’d never think of betraying the country like that.”
“Good,” Patriot said, “Just know, if you ever did think about it, that it wouldn’t end well for you. It would probably end in your--” he paused on the word, but finally mustered the courage to say it, “death.”

“Good to know I’d never think about betraying anybody!” he said.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Nathan said, “Because America is a beautiful place. It’s a place where people have freedom. They can have their own opinions, their own ideas. That’s its beauty. But sometimes, that freedom can be taken too far. We can muster up our own ideas so much that we hurt other people. When we take our ideas and force them on others, betraying them, that’s when we’ve crossed the line.”

“You should have listened to your own words,” a figure behind Patriot Star said, “They might have saved your life, impostor.”
Nathan turned around and saw that the original Patriot Star, the man who he had been imitating this whole time, was before him. Next to him was Voir. Next to Voir was a man Nathan didn’t recognize.


“I’d been wondering how you knew the Torie anthem, you scum,” Voir said, “People are born free and they always will be, no matter what Rousseau or anyone else says to the contrary.”
Quickly assessing the situation, Nathan saw there were only four people directly confronting him. The rest had already gone back to the bar or seemed too busy with the casualties. Firecracker and Voir shouldn’t prove too much of a problem. The real Revolutionary-era Patriot Star would prove tricky, but it was probably possible to beat him. However, Nathan wondered about the other one standing next to Voir. Who was he? What were his powers?


Nathan took what he thought was his best option: he ran. Turning around and sprinting with as much swiftness as he could muster, he heard one of Firecracker’s bombs go off. For the briefest of moments, he smiled. Had the boy decided for himself what America was? Had he decided correctly?
Was this why the real Revolutionary Patriot Star would kill him? Nathan refused to think about it. He could see the building where the Constitutional Convention was being held right up ahead. Maybe if he could just run around it--


He saw the man he was afraid of: the man standing next to Voir had the ability to fly. Nathan continued running, as the flying man swooped over him and then turned around. The two were set for a collision course.

At the last second, Nathan leaped into the air. Grabbing onto the flying man’s head, he flipped onto the man’s back and held on tight. The flying man flew higher and higher, speeding towards the Constitutional Convention. His flight path seemed out of control, whizzing around, doing barrel rolls. Essentially, he would kill Nathan if he had to. Thus, Nathan did what he had to do.

A quick snap was all it took for the flying man to plummet towards the ground. Hopping off, Nathan had many thoughts whizzing through his head at a trillion miles a second, as thoughts are prone to do, when one is in a situation involving almost certain death. Most of these thoughts involved said imminent death, but there was one tiny, nagging thought which managed to take up a small section of Nathan’s thoughts: how could Rousseau, one of the largest proponents of political revolution, be turned into an inspiration for the Tories? Why was Gil surprised when Nathan mentioned France? How could--

Nathan found that his fall had reached a much slower clip. He felt like he was falling through mud: he was still falling, but not at anything near a fatal rate. He saw the building before him. It was where the Constitutional Convention was being held. A window at the top of the building opened up and let Nathan in. The window closed behind him and he gently landed on the ground.
He looked around, finding himself surrounded in complete darkness.

“Hello, Nathan. We’ve been expecting you.”
Nathan reached out, but found that he had nothing to hold onto. He asked, “Who-- who are you?”

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