Beacon of Hope



Chapter Seventeen

DISCLAIMER :: This fanfiction is based on Superman from DC Comics. All rights reserved. Art by CWBlaine on Deviant Art.
Author's note: Perhaps it is the start of a new collaborative universe or a standalone project for myself. I don't know, yet.

The farm has always been a place of solace. I'd forgotten that over the years. Having left for college immediately after high school, it had been years since I stepped foot on my parents' farm for more than a few hours at a time through multiple visits. Life in a big city simply moves at a faster pace, even if you live in the suburbs. Mine had been no different. Years had gone by in the blink of an eye. While I had been present for my family, the girls just shot up like weeds and got older. The scent of baby powder and dirty diapers was replaced by multiple beauty products and perfume. Even after I shut down upon getting laid off from the newspaper, our lives seemed content enough. There were opportunities to come together as a family and create some memories. It's just not the same out on a farm. Everything just seems to move slower out here.

Sitting on the back porch steps with my eyes toward the northern horizon, my arms rested on my knees. A mug of coffee occupied one hand and the other was stroking Koda who leaned against my thigh. Týr had finished his self-prescribed morning chores. My mother was whipping up something for breakfast in the kitchen behind me. With no children to shuttle to school, no morning meeting to be punctual for, no breaking news to respond to, and no emergency needing my attention, there was only the ambience of birds singing, crows talking to each other, and the occasional bellow of a cow from somewhere nearby.

My hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a thing called a "scrunchie" my mother had insisted on purchasing for me. An oversized sweatshirt over a tank top covered my upper body while leggings and insulated slippers covered my lower half. I was beginning to truly understand the comfort and utility of leggings my daughters seemed to rave about. I didn't have to wear the glasses Lauren had made for me, though. No closed circuit cameras with facial recognition software out in the middle of nowhere. Everything fit this new body I'd been given rather well and was comfortable enough.

My mind drifted to the possibility of returning to an exclusively male life. I won't say that I hadn't thought about the prospect. Search engines are generally free. Once you sift through all the ads, you can actually find some information. I'd looked into the experiences of transgender men all over the internet. I'd discovered the world of hair cuts, binders, packers, and testosterone treatments. Going deeper, there were top surgeries and bottom surgeries with a variety of testimonies concerning the efficacy of such treatments. The before and after pictures were the most shocking. I had no idea such a world existed and seeing people that could be clearly defined as young women before becoming someone clearly defined as a young man afterward was quite extraordinary. It could be quite possible to perhaps reclaim a life I'd known for forty-five years.

The downsides came quickly, though. There was no guarantee that I could even seek treatment in this sociopolitical climate. Further, I was now once again a dependent of my mother's and her insurance coverage would come into play. While I was working remotely, I was keeping a very small fraction of my pay to sustain myself. Most was going to Laura and the girls. Further still, I truly had no idea what effects this pulse had on my body as a whole. I already knew that needles would not pierce my skin, so the most effective route of intramuscular injections was out of the question. Creams and gels might be an option, but with much slower progression. There was no way to know if my body would accept or reject those changes, anyway. Beyond the medication, I could never do any surgeries. Given some experience with tear gas that I'd had, it would be incredibly unlikely I could even be sedated under general anesthesia. Like the needles, the scalpels likely wouldn't be able to pierce my skin either. At the end of the day, I would still have the skeletal structure of a puberty-influenced human female that stands five-feet-ten-inches. It would never be like it was before when I had the skeletal structure of a puberty-influenced human male that stood close to six-feet-four inches.

There was no going back. I could not change what had happened to me. Pondering all the facts involved, there was only one conclusion I could reach. Like an intersex person with complete androgen insensitivity, I may be forced to remain in this female body I've been given whether I liked the idea or not. It was a sobering thought. Therapy was going to get expensive.

"Kris! Ya gots company!" My mother yelled from the kitchen, thoroughly derailing my train of thought.

"Tell 'em to c'mout here, Ma!" I yelled my request back.

Footfalls reached my ear as someone approached, bypassing the kitchen. "Thanks, Mrs. Kent." A familiar feminine voice spoke to my mother.

Koda stirred and moved to meet the new person. They shared a moment. I could hear him sniffing the guest and start panting happily once his ears got scritches. He joined me once more, satisfied the guest wasn't a threat. Giving his head and neck some rubs, I took a moment to sip my coffee.

"Morning, Lauren." I greeted the guest, not averting my eyes from the horizon.

"Since when do you have a dog?" She inquired. "That's new. I don't think I ever remember a dog on the farm before." She moved to lean on the railing over my left shoulder.

"We've had a few out here. We didn't when I was in high school. I was broken up over losing two of them because the neighbor used some nasty pesticide in one of their fields." My head hung in remembrance. "Couple of really good hounds. Spent a good few years with 'em. Haven't had a dog since then."

"And you neglected to tell your best friend this because... ?" She wondered.

"Never came up. Too painful rememberin' how they died." Shaking my head, I would have liked very much to get those images out of my head. "Koda was rescued from a fire. He needed a good home." My head finally turned toward her. "What brings you up north?"

Her hair was a little shorter than the last time we'd seen each other. New haircut, I guess. With summer in full swing, the tank top and denim shorts seemed practical enough. She shook her head at me. "Business, I'm afraid. I've uncovered some finished intelligence cables from AVS to DHS. Sounds like they're going to coordinate a raid with ICE fairly soon. Sounds like a big one. A lot bigger than the Home Depot or the cannabis farm raids over in California, at any rate."

"How much bigger?"

"You know that industrial area just east of Oak Park?"

"I'm familiar. There's tons of places over there and the freight rail tracks spread into it."

"Pretty much that whole area. The focus is on Chicago Beverage Systems that's owned by Reyes Holdings, but that doesn't mean they're not going to raid Damron, Graphic Packaging, or any of the other businesses in the area. They're going to hit it hard, too. From what I've read, just about every ICE agent or AVS operative in the area is going to be committed to it."

"Where's your second source?"

"What?"

"Lauren, we're journalists. We always have other sources, right?"

"Yes, but the two or three I was in contact with couldn't confirm or deny the cables. I'm getting stiff-armed, but these shouldn't be ignored. We've got to do something."

"We?" I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not sitting by on the sidelines, anymore, Kris. I'm going this time. Dr. Voss made me a good suit. It took a while to put together, but it's just as tough as yours. Don't worry. I'm not going to be getting my hands dirty on the ground. That's for you to do with your insane strength. Drones, I can do. Ripping open an APC is outside my skillset."

"You sure about this?"

Her face became almost expressionless but determined. "I'm sure. In the field, call me 'Veritas'."

I stood and turned toward her. "Pleasure to meet you, Veritas. I'm Seraphim."

"Finally settled on a name, huh?"

"No, yeah, took me a—" My explanation was broken off by the burner phone ringing. According to the screen, Lt. Henderson was calling. "Well, well... if it isn't that second source we needed." Tapping the green button, I put the phone to my ear. "You've got Seraphim."

"Who is that?" Lt. Henderson's slightly distorted voice asked. "I'm looking for the girl in blue and red. This her?"

"This is the number you called, is it not, Lieutenant? I know it's not widely known, yet, but I've settled on a codename. We'll use it from now on."

"Whatever you want, Blue." He let out a quick sigh. "I've got some intel for you."

"Can I put you on speaker, Lieutenant?"

"If you think it's safe, fine."

Pressing the button, I spoke toward the phone in hopes that Lauren would hear Lt. Henderson. "Okay, go ahead."

Again, he let out a sigh. "Okay, so you know: Illinois is a 'sanctuary state'. We're under orders not to participate with these guys unless they have a judicial warrant, but they only ever have administrative warrants that don't hold up. That said, I've been hearing from a few people around that they know a big raid is about to happen. They mentioned some company that's gonna pay them off-duty."

"Did you happen to catch the name of the company, Lieutenant?" I asked while likely already knowing the answer.

"American Vanguard Solutions. It's some merc company that sprang up in the last couple years. Ever since people with powers have been appearing, they've been working alongside ICE to do some raids and cover their own behinds."

"That is known, Lieutenant. To those paying attention, anyway. They're rounding up citizens to screen them for their potential of having some kind of powers. It's a 'guilty until proven innocent' affair." I rolled my eyes. "Any idea when this is all going to coalesce?"

"Sounds like it's going to happen tomorrow. Some time around 11am, I think." He cleared his throat. "You should know that you are their number one target. Ever since you've been taking out the planes they're using to get people around the country faster, they've been out for you. I don't think they've got anything that'll hold you at all, but be safe regardless. I think you're doing some good things out there. Keep it up."

Narrowing my eyes, I nodded. "Count on it, Lieutenant. Thanks." Hanging up the phone, I glanced at Lauren. "Looks like we've got our confirmation. Get on the horn and alert the local organizations. We'll try to deter this action first and intervene if we have to."

She nodded firmly. "Got it. Seraphim and Veritas are on the case!"

"You not go alone." Týr's voice dripped with conviction as he almost seemed to appear out of nowhere. I watched as he closed his iron hand into a fist and clenched it tight. "I go."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Týr and I came into town quite early. We had coffee with Lauren and went over our game plan. I had brought a backpack with my suit inside. For once, Týr had clothes from the current century: a T-shirt, pair of jeans, good boots, and a red flannel he seemed rather partial to. For all the world, he looked like Chris Hemsworth as Thor in the first movie but with red hair. He carried a satchel with a set of armor he'd fetched from a cache back in Iceland. Lauren told me that Dr. Voss had fashioned her a suit, but was very tight-lipped about it until she was ready for the debut. Mostly, we covered communications. Lauren had fashioned some earbuds for Týr and I to wear that would also allow us to communicate with her. She was very much becoming the tech genius of our little group. How she went from investigative reporter to tech genius is still a mystery to me. Perhaps it had always been a hobby she kept close to the chest?

After formulating our plan and networking with the local protest movement, all three of us piled into Lauren's car and headed for the likely location of the raid. Týr wasn't a fan of the low ceilings and voiced that he'd much rather be flying. Frankly, I couldn't blame him because I would rather fly as well but we had to keep a lower profile and not tip off ICE or AVS to our presence this early in the game. If they were to turn and run too early it would defeat the purpose we had for today: to send a message that we would not stand for their tactics any longer. Chicago was not going to allow anything similar to events in Los Angeles to occur, nor were we. Innocent people being apprehended and locked away without due process was not something we were going to allow anymore.

Lauren parked in the lot right across from the building in question just off North Kilbourn Avenue. We had tried to not seem conspicuous and park so close to the building, but there really weren't that many accessible parking lots or facilities nearby that fit our needs. It would have to do. We crossed the street and darted toward the south end of the building. Once we found an inconspicuous spot, Týr jumped to the top and served as a lookout. Given the all-clear, I took Lauren's hand and floated to the roof with her.

On the roof, we had a whole expanse to survey the surroundings. The roof was flat with very few things protruding off the surface. Changing into a suit would be a challenge. Týr ran over to some air conditioning vents that covered from his belly button down, which worked for men. Lauren, however, started taking off her oversized T-shirt to reveal she was mostly already wearing her suit. It was a marvel, to be sure. All I had to do was utilize my super speed and nobody would see me changing.

Lauren's suit seemed to be made of some kind of leather and fabric composite with reinforcement that made it look like some kind of armor. The majority of it was a silver-gray, similar to a color called "gun metal", with green accents. The reinforcement made her chest, stomach, arms, legs, shoulders, writs, and pelvic region stand out. They were like inlaid panels of armor. It had pauldrons, bracers, leg plates, a chest plate, shin plates, and even a hood. It seemed to be the love child of Oliver Queen's iconic third suit from the Arrowverse and Natasha Romanov's suit from the MCU. She even had a half helmet she slipped on that reminded me of Captain America's helmet from the first Avengers film, but featured lenses over her eyes like Spider-Man that glowed the same green as the accents on the rest of her suit. There was a prominent "V" on her forehead and chest.

"Dr. Voss truly outdid herself." I stated toward the sight before me.

Lauren's exposed mouth smirked. "She really did, didn't she? Told you it was something to behold."

"And you did not disappoint."

She pulled gloves and boots that were the same silver-gray of the suit out of her bag before slipping them on. "Suit up, Seraphim. We've got a job to do."

I nodded to her before the world around me slowed to a crawl. The T-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, and hoodie I was wearing came off and I pulled the suit out of my bag. In the next moment, I slipped it on, zipped it up so it conformed to my body, then flipped the cape over my head. After slipping on my boots, I stuffed my other clothes in my bag before the world returned to normal speed. I smirked at Lauren.

She rolled her eyes. "Show off."

She and I positioned ourselves at the lip of the roof as a crowd gathered at the southern end of North Kilbourn Avenue. No matter if they came from the Broadview facility or the one downtown, they'd have to cross the tracks to get into the industrial area. The only other entry was from the North at Chicago Avenue. We were prepared for either possibility. Lauren checked the time. It was only 10:30 am.

"Is time?" Týr asked over my shoulder.

This caused me to turn and look at him. He looked to be half museum piece and half modern adaptation of what a Norse warrior might have looked like. His boots and pants were fairly standard fare. There was a sort of undergarment that hung to his knees. Overtop of that was a collection of a chainmail shirt and various leather or metal embellishments. His chest was covered in some kind of cuirass that bore a single rune on the chest: Tiwaz, the upward arrow attributed to him. There were pauldrons on his shoulders and bracers on his wrists. Overtop his shoulder pauldrons hung a single bit of fur that extended halfway down his back. If he had a shield with a sword or axe, he'd be the best dressed cast member of the Vikings television show. His brown furrowed with determination as his eyes scanned the crowd below us.

"Not yet, big guy. First, we have to wait." I responded.

Týr sighed in defeat. Meanwhile, Lauren had been fidgeting with her gloves and bracers. I hadn't noticed before, but there seemed to be a lot of hidden buttons. My eyes caught sight of several small objects coming out of the car we'd arrived in. The sound reaching my ears suggested they were small drones. I didn't know what purpose they would serve.

"Maybe you should say a few words?" Lauren suggested.

My eyes blinked rapidly. "What? Why?"

She turned to me. "Are you kidding? You've become a symbol. You've saved people from all manner of mishaps here in the city. You broke those two people out of AVS custody just a couple weeks ago. Heck, you went all the way down to Texas and single-handedly insured the survival of over a hundred people. Have you even been online? Týr and I might be dressed like heroes, but you legitimately are one. You're the talk of the country."

Letting out a breath, I nodded. "Yes, I've been online. I've seen what's being said. I'm apparently the 'Champion of the Oppressed'. Even given that, you know I've never enjoyed public speaking. Yes, I won some awards in high school, but that was almost thirty years ago and they were prepared statements. You've even watched me fall flat while attempting improv. What am I even supposed to say?"

"Speak from your heart. Inspire these people to do the right thing. It's your whole M.O. my friend."

Returning my gaze to the growing crowd beneath us, I focused on what they might be saying to one another. There was a lot of anger and hurt in their voices. The empathy of the people in the gathering crowd was enormous. Come what may, they were out here to do what they could to protect vulnerable members of society against tyranny. Still, some were talking about methods they might entertain to stop the stormtroopers that would be arriving in short order. Lauren was right: they needed someone to talk to them and appeal to their better morals. While helping potential innocent victims, they could not react in a manner that would put themselves or those they were trying to help in danger.

Turning around, the world slowed to a crawl all around me. I ran the length of the building and leapt into the air. At the apex of the jump, I willed myself to fly. At a reasonable speed, I circled around the area and resolved to approach from the north. At a few hundred feet above the ground, I could see quite a long distance but still did not catch sight of anything that might be construed as a vehicle used by ICE or AVS. Coming down Kilbourn, I approached the gathering crowd, greeted by cheers. Thankful for the admiration, I still did my best to quiet them down. There was a bit of murmuring among the growing crowd that was likely about to be more than two thousand. Those closest to me smiled and referred to me as the "Windy City Wonder", which caused me to chuckle. All I requested was a megaphone. It took a moment to get one, but it was delivered quickly. I thanked whomever donated it and promised to return it.

I'd never used one of these things before, so it was a little difficult to figure out at first. Once I stopped trying to damage everyone's ears with the high-pitched squeal noises, I willed myself upward and floated a few feet above the crowd. As one might expect, all eyes were on me.

Putting the device to my lips, I pulled the activation trigger and spoke. "Good morning! Can everyone hear me?" The crowd erupted in confirmation. Smiling, I continued, "First of all, I want to thank all of you for taking the time out of your day to be here. I want to thank the organizers of the Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights for responding to the call from my friend Veritas and ensuring that you are all here, this morning. In case you hadn't heard, I am Seraphim."

Taking a breath, I knew what I said in the next few minutes would need to be impactful. "If you knew me personally, you'd be aware that I'm better with writing my thoughts rather than speaking them. I'm not someone that's terribly good at speeches." I took a quick breath. "But I also know that someone has to speak for those whose voices are being suppressed."

With my free hand, I pointed at the Chicago Beverage Systems building behind me. "There are people in that building that are just going about their work day with no idea what's about to happen. They didn't ask for this. They didn't ask to be exploited by a machine that treats them like numbers on a spreadsheet. They didn't ask to be vilified by an administration that doesn't believe they're people. They're here putting in an honest day's work and hoping for an honest day's pay. They're trying to feed, clothe, and house their families. They are not criminals with nefarious intentions."

Lowering my arm, I looked at the crowd. "Look around you at the person in front of, to the side, and behind you. Is their hair color different from yours? Their eye color? The tint of their skin? The clothes they wear? As people, we have our differences. That's the spice of life. It's the amazing thing we call 'humanity'. These are your neighbors, your fellow church goers, your coworkers, your brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, cousins, and, yes, even friends. These are the faces of Chicago and by extension the great country we call home."

After taking a beat to think, I continued. "The people on their way here don't want you to feel that community. They dress up like soldiers and claim to be law enforcement. They hide their identities and claim it's for accountability. They carry weapons of war and claim it's for safety. They will claim they are here to capture and detain criminals—both immigrants and people with powers. We know it's all a lie. We know that the brutality is the point. They are coming to show force and sow fear. They want you to be afraid, lay down, and just accept this new reality they are trying to create. They want you to be quiet. I'm here to say what you already know: there is another way. There's always another way.

"I have learned the hard way that true strength is showing vulnerability, compassion, and empathy. Without those things, you don't have mercy and strength without mercy is cruelty. I have carried buses and ambulances over my head and they felt to me like they were made of cardboard. I don't know the full scope of what I can do with my strength, but I do know that the heaviest things I have ever carried were the hopes, dreams, and wellbeing of a nine year old girl I pulled out of a catastrophically flooded river not too long ago, the promise of an infant child rescued from a fire safely into his mother's arms, a newborn into its mother's arms after she was the victim of a car accident, and the promise to a young boy that he'll get to see the dog he raised from a puppy some day.

"I didn't ask for this. I was once a middle-aged man with a beautiful wife and three wonderful children. I had an education from a great college and a career that maybe I didn't like so much," I paused as the crowd chuckled. "Now, I look like what you might think of as a child with way too much power. At least, that's what AVS might want you to think. They want you to be afraid of people like me — afraid of what you don't understand. It shouldn't be a requirement to show that you've put in the work. Dignity and personal agency shouldn't be predicated on whether or not you're 'one of the good ones'. Everyone deserves their right to life, liberty, and their own pursuit of happiness, whatever that means for them." My eyes scanned the crowd. "I've had a lot taken from me. My wife. My kids. My career. My manhood. By the logic of bad actors, I should be one of the most evil beings this world has ever seen. Instead, I chose to put on this suit. I chose to be there for people that need it the most. I chose to be better. Like you, I choose to be here in this moment ready to stand against bad actors and protect the vulnerable."

"I must ask you one thing: do not answer their violence with your own. Stand firm against the tide but do not put yourself in harm's way. Today is about standing for what is right. It's about making a statement that we will not allow anyone's liberty to be traded for so-called security. It's about the people inside. It's about letting ICE and AVS know that we will not stand for them trampling our Constitution. Non-violence is no weakness – it is discipline. We will meet their brutality with resolve. Let the world see who they are and, by extension, who we are: the people of Chicago standing against injustice."

"If they threaten violence, rest assured that I will stand between them and you. Let them come after me. I can take it."

I lowered my head and smiled as a thought crossed my mind. "I'm reminded of a quote that better writers than I came up with. It's from the funeral of Margaret Elizabeth Carter and spoken by her niece, Sharon Carter. She said, 'Compromise where you can. Where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right... even if the whole world is telling you to move... it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye, and say 'No, you move.'

"Today, I plan to do exactly that. The winds of oppression are nothing compared to the winds off Lake Michigan in the winter. As people of the 'Windy City', we know we can stand firm against this."

I released the trigger and lowered the megaphone. The crowd was silent for a moment before erupting into a sea of cheers and promises of solidarity.

The device in my ear crackled to life. "Did I get all that on video? You bet I did." Lauren announced through the communications. "Will it go viral? Probably, but that doesn't matter so much as that exact message getting out. Nice work, Seraphim."