"The final verdict for Tobias A. Hawthorn, also known as the villain Otorrhea, was read in court today-" It'd been all over the news for weeks. The court case, the bloodshed, testimony from parents and friends. He hadn't been able to get away from it. His face had been everywhere, the sole survivor of his class, his visage synonymous with death in it's purest form; his name bitten out around rumors.

"He isn't even crying."

He cried for Avin.

"He's cold, dead inside. I can see it."

So was the judge, the jury, and the court room.

"You know who his father is, he can't be trusted."

He could be.

"He did this."

He hadn't.

News stations had paid mind enough to leave out pictures of the bodies during press releases and court viewings, opting instead to release a list of names accompanied by school portraits. A hundred and thirty six students. Fifty three teachers and other members of staff. A hundred and eighty nine total deaths. A hundred and eighty nine murders.

They hadn't returned to classes, the school board opting to host a series on online exams in lieu of finals.

Malikai hadn't taken them.

He'd spent the weeks following the incident obsessing. Obsessing over Otorrhea. Obsessing over articles, obituaries, everything that he could find. It didn't matter to him that he'd been there, or that this was all going to be a matter of public record. No. What matter was Otorrhea's words to him before he'd started to choke on his own blood.

"Daddy says hello."

He'd carved his palms bloody when he'd recalled the words.

He should have wanted to celebrate as the jury's verdict was read, he should have rejoyced when 'Death' was the word floating across the screen; relaxing parents and friends and other onlookers. It seemed just, life for life; one of the few unwavering penalties that hadn't been subjected to dismantlement when Heroes began to assist the justice system.

When Heroes BECAME the justice system.

But this, this didn't FEEL like justice. Not to Maliaki. It felt like a cakewalk iced in misery. Otorrhea's death would be quick. He wouldn't bleed out, his brain wouldn't liquify in his skull, he wouldn't suffer.

And GOD did Malikai want him to suffer.

His anger flares sharply as he's overcome with the urge to break something. His mind races with a thousand images and all the ways he'd like the man whose face flashes across his computer screen to suffer.

All the way's he deserves to die.

He walks from one end of his room to the other, feet threatening to eat his path into the thin carpeting as his head (metaphorically) spins. His eyes flash from one point of the room to the other, fixating on the articles spread across his desk before settling on Avin's obituary.

Malikai stops, moving to stand across from the flimsy piece of paper.

It's tacked to his wall, perfectly centered over his desk, edges of the page curling slightly away from it's backed surface. A new kind of sensation washes over him, anger so hot it feels cold; washing away with the familiar warmth of grief. His throat tightens painfully, pressure building in his chest and eyes blurring hotly.

The sickness clawing at him is suddenly dropped, soothed away and replaced with something both harder and softer.

"Fuck....." The words stumbles out of his mouth, air and tears rattling harshly in his chest; legs refusing to hold him up any longer as they buckle beneath him and pull him to the floor.

He can't do this. He can't succumb to that anger. He has to be better. Better than.....

His computer pings so loudly it scares him; his eyes flash dangerously for a moment before he registers where the noise actually comes from. He's still shaking when he stands, wobbling over to his monitor set up like a just-born faun.

How unbecoming.

Avin would be ashamed of him.

He can't pull his eyes away from the obituary that hangs over his computers when he opens his notification.

The video that opens with it stops the air in his chest, because save a phone call from his dead friend; this is the only other thing that could have shocked him. The audio filters in from the static wizzing around in his ears.

"......are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hillfire Academy. While we are aware that you failed to complete your preliminary testing, and failed to appear in-front of the board for your Anomoly display; you have been accepted under special circumstances. Based on you're, frankly, impressive grades and unique Anomoly; coupled with your takedown of the villain Otorrhea, we have decided to extended an offer of enrollment. You will receive a letter in regards to your orientation and class schedule. Welcome, Malikai Sheildfall, to Hillfire Academy."

As the message comes to an end, there's a moment of absolute silence. Like everything around him has lost it's sound; frozen, stuck in place.

He can't help but glance up at Avins obituary again.

He can do this.

He doesn't have a choice.