Diametrically Opposed

“...What is that you’re holding?”

“Connley Cabot? Ha! That’s so like you to have such an insufferable name—is that why you were scouted?”

“My ID.”

“And the rest of your stuff in this pretty little satchel you’ve got. I love the little flowers~”

“Don’t shake it.”

“Oh. Surely you don’t mean like this?”

“You’re having fun now, but it’s gonna come back to bite you in the ass, tenfold.”

“You mean…you’re coming back to ‘bite me in the ass’?”

“No. I’ll be the indiscernible blur barreling toward you.”

“Ah.”

“With my arm cocked back and my hand closed into a fist—”

“I get it; you’re gonna beat me up. I got that much.”

“...You had better let me go.”

“If I let you go, we’ll never get the chance to bond.”

“I don’t want to bond with you.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“...And your face doesn’t look like someone who wants to ‘bond’.”

“A minute ago you were threatening my life; can you really blame me?”

“All the more reason for anyone to be confused w—”

“Yes. It’s a bizarre request coming from me. But you know what? I’m a villain—I hardly need to explain myself to you.”

“...”

“You’re at my mercy for as long as I decide to keep you in here.”

“...Don’t interrupt me again.”

“Pfft! Excuse me?”

“You want us to get close? Bond, or whatever? Don’t interrupt me when I speak. It’s rude.”

“Could you imagine? Me being rude? I’ll think about it, how about that? Does his majesty need anything else?”

“Keys for these shackles? Bolt cutters for these chains?”

“How about a reality check instead? I’ll be back in the morning.”

“It’s already night?”

“Your padded gloves make it impossible to grip things, but I’ll bring you a piece of chalk if it’ll help you feel better.”

***

“—There. Back in your room, back in your chains; you’re never getting another shower. Ever! You blew it. No more shower privileges. Attacking me and everything…God, I think my nose is broken.”

“You…I…where…?”

“Hm. I had expected multiple heart attacks but it’s just a flat increase in heart rate—tachycardia. Abnormal breathing, and it looks like fatigue and confusion have struck him as well. So his body’s just like anyone else’s. Lucky me.”

“I don’t…understand. Don’t…”

“I have to fix your blood pH. My power. I have to touch you. I postulate you’ll die if I don’t.”

“You…did this…?”

“Yep. And it’s fixed now, so you can stop spiraling. I expect you’ll be fine in an hour or so. I don’t even know if you can register what I’m saying to you. Maybe I’ll come back with some tools and monitor how quickly your body—”

“What the fuck did you do?”

“Woah! What?! Are you—are you okay right now?!”

“How’s your nose?”

“...Cheeky. And your body has completely erased all the effects of my power. Your constitution is far beyond superhuman—this is unprecedented...and a bit freaky.”

“You used your power on me.”

“And it seems I’ve uncovered quite the mystery; I knew you were special.”

“The Hero’s Association seems to think so too. They will kill you as soon as they find out about this kidnapping and…torrent of psychological aggression.”

“I would never doubt the abilities of the H.A. I’m well aware they would not hesitate to murder me in cold blood.”

“Then why?”

“I’m not interested in the meddlesome happenings of the Hero’s Association, I’m interested in you.”

“...”

“But right this second, I’m a smidge more interested in what you consider to be ‘psychological aggression’.”

“...All this talk of being friends. You say you want us to ‘learn more about each other,’ but we are diametrically opposed entities. Hero and villain. We don’t hold similar values at all.”

“If you truly believe the world is as black and white as our archetypes, you have a lot more growing to do.”

“Are you insinuating that there’s more to you than meets the eye? You’re hard-shelled and soft-centered, or some other garbage?”

“Perhaps.”

“Okay then, how about this: We cannot be friends because I despise you. I hate you. People don’t just see you as a villain, you are a villain. You’re an arsonist and a high-profile thief; you’ve killed people and since last I’ve been in the real world, it’s currently being debated whether or not you’ve committed several war crimes!”

“I’m pretty sure that technically, because I’m a villain, international law doesn’t apply to me. I think. No one has gotten back to me on that; I think my feelings are being spared.”

“Who cares? I want nothing to do with you.”

“That’s understandable, and that’s—hold on, let me sit down—that’s perfectly fine. But you should know that I hardly feel that way about you. In fact, I think I’ve taken a liking to you.”

“...Yuck.”

“I’ve also been lying through my teeth: in the beginning, I had no intention of becoming close to you. I figured that if you were willing, experimentation with your power would go much more smoothly.”

“Experimentation…to what end?”

“Sating my curiosity.”

“Liar.”

“Yeah, you got me again. If we get close enough, maybe I’ll tell you my real reason. But right now, I want to talk about you: I believe our interests have aligned.”

“What interest could that possibly be?”

“I’ve done extensive research regarding how you came upon the H.A., and the history I’ve found there is very intriguing.”

“You seem to find a lot of things intriguing.”

“Very true. I’m very curious, y’know?”

“So then you know everything about me. Why bind my hands with padded gloves and shackle me? Why all this effort?”

“Sigh. The information I was able to find is a negligible step up from what I already knew about you. It’s a shame, but I believe a story can be forged from these gaping plot holes. The H.A. is hiding something about the nature of your power, and they’re also hiding it from you.”

“You…! I guarantee they have a viable reason; they’re…trying to keep people safe.”

“But not you.”

“What?”

“As I said, my findings were the result of careful and thorough research. Radio call logs, summons transcripts, end mission reports and the like have crafted quite a troubling picture. You’re easily one of the most naturally talented heroes of our generation. But you are also objectively the worst treated in the Hero’s Association.”

“That’s not—”

“Special precautions taken to ensure the safety of most heroes are not applied for your sake. They allow you—perhaps even force you—to take increasingly mortal risks. You overextend yourself with patrols and shifts that you’re not compensated for.”

“That’s my—”

“And I’ve found not a single piece of paper mentioning anything about your powers. Forget details! I couldn’t even find a trace of your SP99! You know—literal state-mandated documentation that’s required for every super-powered individual that resides in this country?! How did they even get away with this?”

“...”

“The way I see it, the H.A. doesn’t care if you live or die. Either you’re a part of some sick, ‘open-field’ clinical test on the secrets of your power…or you just flat out don’t matter to them. Take your pick; my money’s on the former.”

“...”

“...Ah. I don’t do well with crying.”

“Just shut up. You still have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“You’re a hardened criminal. A villain. You have no right to vilify the Hero’s Association at any level. All they’ve done is clean up your mess.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“It’s true…but…”

“Speak up, Diator.”

“...I don’t…they always keep me in the dark. The Hero’s Association. Everything you said…must be true. It is true.”

“There can be two truths.”

“No one tells me anything. I get strange looks all the time. They tell me someone will get back to me about my power and my history but it’s always, always radio silence. I don’t even know the name of my power. Could you imagine? I know absolutely nothing about me.”

“...”

“I’m vulnerable, spilling my guts, and I can’t leave. You’re finally silent after getting the ‘bonding’ you so desperately desired?”

“Tch. I’ve made an enemy out of nearly the entire world—but I never wanted to make an enemy out of you.”

“...What do you want now?”

“I want to learn more about your constitution, and your power. You also want to learn more about your constitution, and your power.”

“...Our interests.”

“Aligned, yes.”

“Sigh. Did you know things would settle like this?”

“I knew I would get my way eventually. What I didn’t see coming was that insane, introspective breakdown.”

“Your nose is bleeding.”

“Crap, is it? It is! Ugh, I’m bringing back a paper towel roll…can I take this initiation of light-hearted banter as a ‘yes’?”

“You can take that as a ‘whatever, do what you want’.”

“I’ll bring my notepad as well.”

“And the keys to these restraints.”

“Just the notepad.”

***

“I was not expecting to be let out so…prematurely.”

“I haven’t freed you. You leaving now only satisfies the part of you that’s desperate to escape, not the part that wishes to know yourself; there’s little risk in undoing your chains.”

“Lovely.”

“And! You’ve been behaving so well these past few days that it felt almost cruel. So obedient, and cute as a button…like a puppy…”

“Don’t you dare; I’ll break your arm.”

“And here I thought we were finally warming up to each other. I’ll be sure to jot down ‘does not do well with head pats’ in my notes.”

“And here I thought you’d finally gotten it into your thick skull that there will be no ‘warming up’. I don’t want to be friends, I find you repulsive, and this relationship is purely transactional.”

“Ugh, I’m wounded! Perhaps our research will uncover the cause for this prickly, cactus personality you’ve got.”

“...”

“...I’ve broken you.”

“No…you reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to ask: why is it that you act the way you do? You’re so disgustingly bubbly. You’re nearly the exact opposite of what I expected you to be.”

“I don’t like that face you made with your face.”

“Answer the question.”

“Sigh…well, it’s quite obvious isn’t it? Before a week ago, we were generously a step above strangers—you simply did not know me; I’ve always been like this.”

“That makes sense, it’s just, you don’t look like an Acidman to me.”

“Excuse me? Acidman?”

“...Is that not your villain name?”

“God no! That’s so…uninspired. Where did you get that from?”

“It’s what everyone calls you.”

“Has the name Triple-A not seen the light of day?!”

“Never heard of it, but I think it’s for the best: Triple-A is decidedly worse than Acidman. At least with the latter, people know what you do.”

“One of the A’s stands for ‘acid’.”

“Ha! Naturally. What about the other two?”

“No longer any of your business, since you’re having such a fun time ridiculing my name. Actually, this is a beautiful segue—we’re getting side-tracked when we should be exploring the properties of your power.”

“Aye aye, Acidman. Triple-A? I can’t decide which is the funnier one.”

“...”

“Sorry, sorry. Listening; continue.”

“...Hm. What do you think my power is? A lot of people think I secrete acid from the palms of my hands, but what about you?”

“Well…from what I could see, you seldom used your power during our fights. But I’d say that you have the power to turn liquids into acids, not produce acids from your body.”

“You’re half right. What I have is the ability to control the movement of hydrogen ions in a liquid. I can move them between different liquids, so when used on human bodies, it’s especially deadly.”

“So, the disorientation I felt was you…changing the pH in my body?”

“Your blood specifically is how I did it. Throws off the equilibrium in normal bodies; it happens so fast that the body’s inner systems have no time to counter, no feedback loop. But your body poses some sort of mystery. As soon as I stabilized your blood, the effects were all gone. I suspect that even if I’d have left you alone, you’d be fine.”

“I hope for your sake you’re not looking to test that theory.”

“...Then let’s just explore the basis of your power: what are your hands doing when they touch something?”

“Uh…they enhance?”

“...”

“Um…when I touch my arm, for instance, I can feel its capability grow stronger.”

“Capability? Not just strength?”

“It feels stronger ‘cause I can use it for longer. It doesn’t get as fatigued as my unaffected body parts.”

“Interesting. Have you only ever used your power on your body?”

“I think I was once told that was the only way my power would work and I simply…believed it.”

“No reason to get bashful, we’re both learning here. Coupled with your fast-acting body, this gives me a few ideas for possible explanations. It most likely is an enhancer like you said, but perhaps at a more involved level.”

“You mean that my power functions at the cellular level? Or similar to yours at an ionic level?”

“Not necessarily. It could function that way, but sometimes a power works as simply as thinking something to happen. And most find that their emotions are the catalyst deeply tuned to their abilities.”

“Thinking something to happen…”

“Hm?”

“It seems I have my own theory for the way my power works.”

***

“When I don the mask and become Diator…I give up everything I think I am, and everything I hope to be when I stop petty criminals, or aid during natural disasters, or fight you.”

“...”

“I feel so alone as just me, but not with the added identity of a hero. People become kind, and they depend on you. They trust you to be there every time something goes wrong, so I become much more than a stranger throwing weight around.”

“Yes?”

“So I don’t understand you. You’ve caused so much grief for the uninvolved populace: you’ve uprooted families, destroyed homes, and just…compromised the well-being of so many, I can’t even begin to imagine why. So, I hate you. Why force whatever misery you have on people who have nothing to do with you?”

“...Does my answer have any chance of changing the way you feel about me?”

“No.”

“Good…I can’t think of anything worse than to be pitied by the celebrated Diator.”

“...Well?”

“My story isn’t long or sad, and my actions are hardly justified; if you were looking to be entertained, there’s nothing. So, my apologies.”

“...”

“My history is the bitter consequence of bitter circumstance. My past made me who I am today because, at multiple points in my life, I chose to let it define me. Until recently, misery is all I’d ever known, and when I realized just how vast this world was—how expansive life could be—that knowledge sealed my fate. I couldn’t handle it. I became angry; resentful.”

“...”

“I was…sigh, childish back then. But lately, I’ve decided to focus my efforts on squashing a special kind of evil I’m thankful I haven’t pursued: The H.A. thrives on lies, conspiracy, and taking advantage of the unprotected common folk.”

“So trying to convince you to drop your villainous façade for the Hero’s Association is futile?”

“In every sense of the word. In fact, I’m a bit offended; have I been speaking to a wall for two weeks?”

“No…it was partially a joke. I had a passing thought or two about you becoming a hero since you dread villainy so much, but it’s become increasingly clear how incompatible you would be with the institution.”

“And also they want to kill—”

“And also they want to kill you. Of course. I too have found myself to be disillusioned by the Hero’s Association. Some of their transgressions can be seen clear as day when one chooses to look. In a way, I decided to remain a blind and willing pawn.”

“Most things become clear in retrospect; you’re not at fault for their crimes.”

“...”

“My initial goal was actually to bring you over to my side.”

“Not very surprising.”

“I ridiculed you for playing the role that your side forced on you, and I failed to realize the irony in using their sins to change your outlook, and by proxy, your allegiance. You’re a slave to no one, and a servant only to those who deserve your kindness.”

“Wow. Cheesy.”

“Yeah.”

“...You don’t have to be a slave to yourself either. If you despise being a villain so much, you should stop. Quit it. It’s probably the only action that might redeem you. Quit being a villain and do good.”

“Am I even capable?”

“You’re a perceptive person—if you want to do good, you’ll do good. You just need someone to keep an eye on your morals.”

“...Diator?”

“No. I’ll still be Diator for the people, but you call me Connley. I’ve decided that you are worthy of my kindness.”

“How noble.”

“At least one of us has to be hero-adjacent.”

“Much appreciated. And…you can refer to me as Andras Andria.”

“...No way.”

“Yep.”

“Those are the other two A’s?!”

“Yep.”

“Ahaha! But you were giving me so much crap back then! And you have a sob story, bad-boy origin to back you up?! All I’m hearing is a certain someone was destined to become a superhero from the start.”

“Are you done screwing around?”

“I’m right behind you, but you should take these gloves off considering we’re going to be working together.”

“Well, since we’re going to be working together, maybe you should consider apologizing.”

“...You can’t make me.”

“Then you’ll be powerless for the rest of your life. Oh well; no more hands.”

“Pretty evil of you.”

“Used to be my job.”

END