Captain Infinite and Adam sat on a couch in the barracks lounge, watching anime on television.  As Adam tried to explain what was on the screen, Cap felt as though his brains were going to melt out of his ears.

    “So, let me get this straight,” Cap said, taking a sip from a glass of water and putting it down on the coffee table.  “The magical knights flying around in the last show aren’t superhoes.”

    “Correct.”

    “But the normal guys in costumes that give them super-strength and abilities are.”

    “That’s right.”

    “But the magical people who can fly around and throw fire at one another aren’t superheroes.”

    “That’s correct.”

    “That makes no sense to me,” Cap said.

    “Different culture, different idea of superheroes,” Adam said.

    Cap shrugged.  “I guess so.  I think I like the magical knights more than the guys in costumes.  Just one more question, though: the red-haired magical knight – why does she need a battle mech?”

    Adam was about to answer when Cap saw Alice Matson walk into the lounge on the other side of the room.  He stood up and called out, “Alice, can I ask you a question?”

    Alice rolled her eyes.  “Fine, just make it quick.”

    “Did I do something to offend you?  If I did, could you tell me what it is so that I can make it right?”

    “You really want to know?” Alice snapped.

    Cap nodded.  “Yes, I think I do.”

    Adam stood.  “I’ll leave you two alone,” he said, leaving the room.

    Cap watched Alice stare at him, and then take a deep breath.  “It’s because you are precisely the type of terrible character I detest!” she declared.  “You’re pure wish fulfilment!  You have so many superpowers that it is a physical impossibility to challenge you without shoving some Ultratonium up your ass.  Nobody can hurt you.  Nobody can stop you.  Good writing is all about narrative tension, and the moment you show up in a scene, that tension is gone.  Nobody can even hide anything from you, because you’ve got a superpower that allows you to see through walls!  Characters are compelling because of struggle and growth, but you’re already a god among us, so you’ve got nowhere to go and no way to get there even if you did.

    “My character, Jenny Calhoun, is out there right now and I wish to God I could find her.  In the show I wrote for her, she had to struggle for every victory, and she had to suffer lots of loss and defeat to get there.  That’s what made her compelling, and made people keep watching every season.  They wanted to see her beat the odds and win.  God only knows what she thinks of me.  But I don’t get to spend time with her.  Instead, I’ve got you.  When was the last victory you had to earn?”

    Cap sat down and sighed.  “You’re not wrong,” he said quietly.

    Alice cocked her head and stepped closer.  “What did you just say?”

    Cap stared up at her.  “I said you’re not wrong.  You’re right – I spend my days fighting people who never stand a chance against me, unless they somehow get their hands on Ultratonium, which they almost never do.  Sometimes I even float there and lecture them after I’ve stopped them, which, when you think about it, is really easy to do when you’re bulletproof and they’re not.  But what you’re missing is that that’s all I ever get to do.”

    Alice sat on an adjacent couch.  “What do you mean?”

    “Do you see this glass of water?” Cap asked, picking it up and holding it in front of her.  Alice nodded.  “In order to drink this glass of water, I have to concentrate very carefully.  If I squeeze it just the slightest bit too hard, the glass will shatter with enough force to send shards through concrete walls.  Everything is like this for me.  If I’m not careful opening a door, I’ll rip it off its hinges and send it flying down the hall.  You’re right – I’m a god among men.  But that means that I don’t get to be a man, or have what men have.  Falling into this world was the first time in ages that I’ve had a proper challenge, it’s true, but it’s also the first time in decades I’ve had friends or people to spend time with who just treat me like one of them.  All I get to do is fight supervillains.”

    “But what about Janey Jamison, the intrepid reporter, or Billy Wilson, the photographer?  Surely they’re in your life.”

    Cap put down the glass and shook his head.  “They’re long gone.  They got old, and I didn’t.  I’m the only one of us left now.  And you can’t have a real life anywhere when you never age and everybody else does.  I fight supervillains, and then I go to my cabin and watch television, and envy all the people on the screen for what they can have and I never could.”

    “But you have that secret identity to protect–”

    Cap held up his hand.  “I’m Captain Infinite, the Man of Titanium.  Do I really seem like somebody who needs a secret identity to protect my friends?  I put it on sometimes because when I do, if I’m very lucky, I might just be treated like one of you...for a short while, anyway.”  He sighed.  “I would trade every single one of these powers you hate in a heartbeat just to be one of you for a day.”

    Alice looked down at her hands.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

    Cap shrugged.  “It’s okay.  When all anybody ever sees is the heroics, how can you know what’s going on underneath them?”

    They sat in silence for a moment.

    “It wasn’t always like this, you know,” Cap said.  “Back when I first fell into my world from my home dimension, I just had superior strength and speed.  The rest of the powers grew over time, until, well, you know.  But, in those early years, life was pretty good.  And, I even got to punch Hitler.”

    Alice chuckled.  “What was that like?”

    Cap grinned.  “Satisfying.  Very satisfying.”

    Alice laughed.

Atria sat back in her new office and enjoyed the mid-afternoon sun shining through the window.  The Japanese Self-Defence Force had issued it to her shortly after telling her that they would help.  Her first requirement was a replacement uniform, so that she could properly represent her nation.  That, she was told, would take two or three days.  Her second was that they sort out Stella’s documentation.  To her delight, on that requirement they were already ahead of her.

    On the other side of her desk, Stella was holding and staring at her new birth certificate and Japanese passport.  “They gave me my name back,” she said softly.  “I never thought I’d be able to use my name like this again.”

    “They tell me that they’re still in talks with the Canadian embassy to sort out your citizenship and university enrollment,” Atria said.  “That could take a couple of weeks.  It’s an odd situation, or so they say.”

    Stella got up and gave her a hug.  “Thank you so much.  I was so worried I would never be allowed to go home with Adam at the end.”

    “Well, we have Cap in our corner,” Atria stated.  “In a worst-case scenario, he’d probably just fly you back to Canada himself.  But, happily, that shouldn’t be needed.”

    There was a knock at the door.  Atria looked up to see Kaguyama and Mitsubi.

    “Come in!” Atria called, switching to Japanese.  “I have an office now!  Mitsubi, while you’re here, could I ask you for a favour?”

    Mitsubi nodded.  “Whatever you want.”

    “I’ve got no pictures to put on these walls.  Could I get copies of some of the illustrations from the light novels?  My friends, my mech, that sort of thing?”

    Mitsubi grinned.  “I think we can do that, yes.”

    Stella got up.  “I’m going to go show this to Adam,” she said, and left the room.

    Atria glanced at Kaguyama.  “So, are you finally going to sit down and tell me what has actually been bothering you this entire time?”

    Kaguyama sat down.  “You noticed.”

    “You wrote me to be an expert at reading people,” Atria said.  “And you’re not that hard to read.”

    “Should I leave?” Mitsubi asked.

    Kaguyama shook his head.  “You have a right to know as well.”

    Atria sat back.  “What is it?”

    Kaguyama took a deep breath.  “I can’t give you your happy ending.”

    Atria blinked.  “But I saw it in the outline.  It was there.”

    “You don’t understand,” Kaguyama said.  “I’m not going to be able to finish writing your story.  I physically can’t do it.”

    Atria leaned forward, reaching across the desk and taking Kaguyama’s hand.  “Please, tell me what is happening.”

    “I have early-onset Alzheimer’s,” Kaguyama said, hanging his head in shame.  “It’s why I missed all those deadlines.”

    Mitsubi gasped.  “What?!  When were you diagnosed with that?”

    “About a year ago,” Kaguyama replied.  “I couldn’t figure out how to tell anybody, and then Atria appeared, and then...” he trailed off.

    Mitsubi began to cry.  “You should have told me!  Why didn’t you tell me?”

    “I don’t understand,” Atria said.  “What is this thing you’re talking about?”

    “It’s a degenerative disease,” Kaguyama said.  “It causes early senility.  You start to forget things, as well as how to do things.  It’s like there’s a hole in your mind where the knowledge used to be.  For the last three months I’ve been forgetting how to write.”

    Atria swallowed.  “Is there a cure?”

    Kaguyama shook his head, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.  “Some medication slows it down, but that’s all that can be done.”

    “How far along is it?” Mitsubi asked.

    “I no longer know where I am when I wake up every morning,” Kaguyama said.  “I figure it out after about ten minutes, but it’s all getting worse.  I thought that if I could just write fast enough, I could finish at least one more volume, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish even this one.”  He began to weep.  “I’m sorry!  I’m so sorry!  I wanted to finish the story and be the author of something that means something!  I wanted to give you and Prometheus a happy ending together!  And I keep loading up the draft and trying to write, but I keep forgetting how!  And I...  I...”

    Atria closed her eyes and squeezed Kaguyama’s hand with both of her own.  “I forgive you, creator.  Please know and remember that you are forgiven.  For everything.”  A tear rolled down her cheek.

    Kaguyama’s shoulders shook.  “Thank you, Atria,” he sobbed.  “Thank you.”

    Atria looked to Mitsubi.  She was quietly crying.

    “We all need to collect ourselves,” Atria said.  “It is up to Kaguyama who he tells about this.  But we are the leaders of our little band, and the others will be looking to us for strength.  So, for now, what was said in this office stays in this office.”

    Mitsubi blinked at her in surprise.

    Atria smiled.  “I am, above all things, written to be an officer and a soldier.  When this conflict we’re in is done and the orb is recovered, we will deal with this.  Until then, we have work to do.”

    After a couple of minutes, there was a knock at the door.  Atria checked to make sure Kaguyama and Mitsubi had regained her composure, and then said, “Come in.”

    A junior officer opened the door and snapped to attention, and then stepped in and handed her a file.  “From Colonel Sato, with his complements.”

    Atria returned the salute and the officer departed.  She opened up the file.

    “It seems,” she said, “that they have started monitoring social media for unidentified cosplayers.  And they found one in Osaka.”

    Mitsubi looked at the picture.  A stern Japanese man in leather armour and a blue cloak glowered out of it, his face marked with stubble and a scar along his left cheek.  “That’s Daiki Yamato,” she said.  “I did illustrations for his author, Akari Soto.  She and I are fairly close.”

    “What’s he from?” Kaguyama asked.

    “He’s from Ascension of the Legendary Sword Hero,” Mitsubi replied.  “It’s a light novel isekai series.”

    Atria picked up the phone.  “Alright.  I’ll arrange us transportation to Osaka.  I want to get to Daiki Yamato before the other side notices he’s here.  In the meantime, Mitsubi, you should handle talking to your friend Soto.  Get her over here as soon as you can so that we can brief her.  We may need her for first contact.”

    “I don’t know how well that would go,” Mitsubi said.  “It’s an isekai story.  It starts with Yamato being torn out of his world into another one.  His attitude towards his creator could be quite hostile.”

    “Right,” Atria said.  “So, I’ll have Stella handle first contact instead.”

    “And Osaka is a six hour drive from here,” Mitsubi added.  “At this point, even if you fly, I don’t think there’s any way to get there before dark.”

    Atria nodded.  “I’ll take care of it.”  She began making travel arrangements over the phone.

    One way or another, the hunt for Daiki Yamato would begin in Osaka at dawn.

NEXT: “Contact”