Author Games: The Absent Empress

Task Three Entries: 11-20

Maanyo

In the wake of the invasion, Aar could not discern why he was still there.

The question was twofold, and it hounded him during Project Phoenix's team breakfast the following morning. There he sat, in a metallic mess hall dining chair, surrounded by the smattering of heroes who had bothered to show up, and he ruminated. Why had Aar survived the attack, and why had the Empress invited him to Project Phoenix in the first place?

Heroes had died the night prior. Before that legion of masked intruders had infiltrated the building, the number twenty had served as a point of pride for team members—the phrases "only twenty" and "an elite twenty" had passed the lips of heroes and reporters alike. Twenty had been an impressive number, a strong number; fifteen was weaker, and it tasted sour.

More women had died than men, though the female heroes had crept out of their room once the stairwell fight was almost over. The problem had lain in their plan to check the treasure vault; a group of seven women had descended to secure the area, only to find five highly trained intruders melting through the vault doors, katanas at their sides. One had sliced the Welsh woman through the abdomen almost immediately, while another had severed the cosmetic heroine's neck before she could apply her power-yielding lipstick. The remaining five heroes had defeated the thieves, but the Silver Fox's daughter had collapsed afterward, eventually bleeding out from a leg wound. Upstairs, toward the end of the main fight, two men had died in the stairwell—the intruders' numbers had run low, forcing the residual attackers to practice a dangerous, self-sacrificing technique. Because of this, they were picked off easily, but they lethally wounded the Silver Fox and Animalis in the process. Five heroes total had died; fifteen remained.

While Aar had lingered in Ms. Sato's empty doorway, unmoving and useless, everyone else had sacrificed. Perhaps if he had known that the battle was turning fatal, he would have joined the fight. But he possessed no combat training, no advantage on land; perhaps, even if he had understood the full ramifications of that night's attack, his actions would not have changed. Regardless, the memory stung like cowardice.

The mess hall had been filled with a dull whisper since Aar had entered, the weary heroes mumbling across long, plastic tables to one another, recounting their losses. No one had escaped unscathed. Somehow, an attacker had sliced shiny black scales from Obsidian's arm, and the hero was showing a reddened, inflamed patch of skin to the brunette sitting across from him. Kevin was severely concussed. One of Glacier's eyes bore a cloth patch, and the teenagers beside Aar murmured that a nunchuck had partially blinded him. Even those without visible wounds wore the trauma of battle in their stares, in their shudders when people spoke too loudly from behind, in their tears. Guaritore had entered her room the previous night crying and, to Aar's knowledge, had not stopped since. The mess hall itself, painted beige and flushed with fluorescent light, had acquired a quiet harshness that it had not possessed before. The heroes had conferred it upon the space, and Aar could only bear witness and remain silent.

Faced with this victory that felt like loss, Aar could not perceive his actions as anything but cowardice. Prudence had driven him upward, that and a desire to do something. His concern for Ms. Sato had justified protecting her, but his colleagues' bravery now seemed a more noble option. Aar would have lost his life in direct combat, almost definitely, but he should have faced that outcome regardless. The other heroes had willingly plunged themselves into extreme danger; better Aar had died than one of the valuable heroes, one of the brave ones. He could have saved the Silver Fox, maybe, by shielding him at the last moment. Or he could have accompanied the women to the vault, protecting Hips 'n Lips while she applied her lipstick, distracting the attacker who had wounded Crimson.

None of these outcomes were actually viable. If Aar had entered the fight, he would have died immediately and uselessly. He would not have saved anyone, much less distracted anyone; an untrained combatant is more a liability than an asset, and the smarter choice had been to find some use elsewhere.