Halcyon City was a storm of light and noise, but tonight, Paragon felt like a ghost drifting through it all.
He soared above the neon veins of the city, his cape trailing in the wind, eyes scanning the grid of streets and alleys below. The city was restless—more crime, more desperation, more uncertainty. His comm buzzed with a relentless stream of calls: robberies, fires, accidents, cries for help. He handled what he could, but for every crisis resolved, two more ignited elsewhere.
He landed atop a glassy skyscraper, the city's heartbeat pulsing beneath his boots. He stared at his reflection in the window: the familiar blue and silver suit, the insignia that once inspired hope. Now, he saw only exhaustion and doubt staring back.
A billboard flickered on a nearby building, showing a news anchor's face:
"Halcyon's new number one hero, Aperture, rescues hundreds in maglev disaster. Citizens call him 'the future of heroism.'"
Paragon's jaw tightened. He'd heard the name whispered in the streets, seen the awe in people's eyes. Aperture—artificially created, engineered to be the city's perfect protector. Portal powers, flawless logic, and a presence that seemed to erase fear itself.
Paragon's communicator crackled. "All units, emergency! Maglev train on Line 7 has lost control. It's accelerating toward the ocean barrier. Hundreds on board. No remote override—impact in two minutes!"
Paragon shot into the air, the city blurring beneath him. He raced the wind, heart pounding, every muscle straining as he streaked toward the maglev line. He could already hear the train's shriek, see the terrified faces pressed against the windows.
He landed on the tracks, bracing himself for the task of stopping the train's momentum. But before he could act, the air rippled with a surge of blue energy.
A portal blossomed open in front of the train, swirling with impossible light. In a blink, the entire train—hundreds of tons of steel and humanity—vanished, swallowed by the portal. Paragon staggered, stunned by the sudden silence.
A second portal opened high above the city's central park. The train emerged, gliding gently to a stop on a cushion of shimmering energy. Passengers spilled out, dazed but unharmed, greeted by a cheering crowd.
Aperture stood atop the train, his chrome suit gleaming, the red insignia on his chest pulsing like a heartbeat. He raised a hand, and the crowd erupted in applause.
Paragon watched from the shadows, his fists clenched. He'd been too slow. For the first time, he hadn't been needed.
Aperture stepped down, portals flickering at his fingertips. Reporters swarmed him, cameras flashing.
"How did you react so fast?"
"What does this mean for Halcyon's future?"
"Is Paragon still relevant?"
Aperture's voice was calm, almost musical. "The city deserves a protector who can be everywhere at once. Who can prevent tragedy before it happens. That's why I'm here."
Paragon turned away, the cheers echoing in his ears. He leapt into the night, fleeing the celebration he once would have led.
---
He wandered the city, lost in thought. Every screen, every conversation seemed to be about Aperture. "Did you see how he saved the train?" "He's so precise, so perfect." "Paragon was great, but maybe it's time for something new."
Paragon drifted past a row of old apartments, the windows glowing with ordinary life. A sound caught his ear—a child's sob, sharp and desperate. He hovered outside a window, unseen. Inside, a small boy knelt beside his mother's lifeless body. A man—his father—stood over them, his face twisted with guilt and rage.
Paragon watched, frozen. He could break the window, stop the man, save the boy. But he didn't move. He just… watched. Watched as the man stumbled out, watched as the boy clung to his mother, watched as the world inside that apartment shattered.
He sank onto a rooftop, his body trembling. All the strength in the world, and he couldn't save everyone. Not from the darkness outside, nor the darkness inside himself.
Images flooded his mind—the Draathari planet, cities scorched by his own hands, the countless lives lost. The cheers and applause, once his lifeblood, now felt hollow and distant.
Tears welled in his eyes. He wept, silent and alone, as Halcyon City carried on beneath him. Legends die, he thought. And maybe, just maybe, it was time.
But as the city's lights flickered below, Paragon knew he wasn't ready to let go—not yet. Even if the world no longer needed him, he still needed to believe he could make a difference.
He wiped his eyes, stood, and vanished into the night—one more shadow in a city full of them.