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.

((Chapter Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYpCMLW2n_Q))

We didn't have to wait long. The various trucks, unmarked cars, panel vans, and APCs came rolling into the area ten minutes before 11 am. They fooled us a little. They didn't come from the south as we expected. They had hoped to foil our blockade by coming from the north. Lauren's drones picked them up turning off Chicago Avenue. The two columns of opposing forces, one being the motorcade from the north and the other being over two thousand humans on foot from the south, were about to meet like army forces of the 18th Century. Hoping to serve as a buffer between the two, I marched on foot at the front of the column of people. It was absolutely clear whose side I was on.

"This may get ugly, Seraphim." Lauren warned over the comms. "I've got some drones set to record and others set to live stream. Let's hope nobody does anything stupid."

"That's the plan, Veritas: remain peaceful." I stated as our column marched to meet the vehicles that largely had no livery designating their affiliation.

As we marched, our column began to fan outward in an attempt to box in the ICE officials. They stopped at the intersection of Kilbourn and Ohio, in front of a mattress factory. There was really no way to know whether that was their intended target or one they settled on because there were so many people in front of the other factory. Undeterred by our approach, agents filtered out of the various vehicles. They looked like an invading army dressed in the camouflage fatigues, tactical gear, faces covered, and weapons slung across their torsos. I didn't know enough about weapons to know if the ones they carried were lethal or non-lethal. I held onto the hope that they were non-lethal. There was very little coordination of their movements as some moved to block the crowd from interfering while some made their way toward the doorway of the mattress factory.

There was mounting evidence that the crowd would not reach the agents before they breached the building. Time was of the essence and I might be the only person present that was fast enough to head off these agents. I spoke into the comms. "I'm going in."

Without waiting for any reply, I began to walk faster than the crowd. My eyes searched for the location of the group headed to the building. In the next moment, the world slowed to a crawl as I ran toward the factory entrance. It was clear that perhaps they weren't anticipating my participation in today's events. With a column of seven agents within two meters of the entrance, I ran and put myself between them and the door. The world returned to normal speed. The wannabe soldiers with patches only showing text that read "Police", "ESO", "HSI", "DHS", or "ICE" on them came to an unsure halt a few feet in front of me as I narrowed my eyes on them. Their immediate response was to raise their weapons on me. I stood my ground.

"Metahuman! Move!" One yelled at me.

My stern expression remained unchanged. "No. You move."

The reply was a face full of pepper spray from one of the agents. I stood like nothing happened because, from my perspective, nothing had. It didn't affect me at all. I could smell it, but it otherwise had no effect. When that didn't work like they'd hoped, two quickly moved to grab me–one on each arm. They put their full force into the interaction but I didn't move a millimeter. Frustrated, they grew more forceful but the effort was futile. I didn't budge.

"I will not allow you to harm the innocent people inside this building." I told them. "Go back to wherever you came from and leave this city."

"STOP RESISTING!" The man with a typical middle-age-spread physique on my left arm yelled in my ear.

"No." Was my reply.

"You are under arrest for obstruction, metahuman! Stop resisting!" The other man on my right who seemed a little younger shouted.

In the next second, three more joined in and tried to get a hand on me. One grabbed my cape and tried to pull me in various directions with it. In my own head, the laughter could not be contained. Outwardly, I maintained a stoic, steadfast expression. Their efforts were genuinely funny. Seven grown men couldn't move me so much as a millimeter, try as they might. The solace for me in the situation was that the longer they tried to wrestle me to the ground meant more time for the people inside the building to enjoy their freedom.

"Movement from the south," Lauren announced over the comms. "Looks like AVS vehicles coming this way. I can sense two powered people in the bottling plant and three more in that crowd of protestors. Stay alert."

Meanwhile, the men were still yelling at me to stop resisting. They were putting in a great deal of effort to arrest me for getting in their way. One of the men further back fired off a few rounds of something at my forehead. A couple of those rounds struck the men trying to detain me. From the smell of them, it seemed like they might be the pepper balls I'd heard of being used in Los Angeles. They were the same solution as what was being put into pepper spray but in paintball form.

"Ow!" One of the men trying to apprehend me squealed. "Dammit, Dietrich! We're right here without masks on and having a hard enough time bringing this little bitch down! Knock it off!"

Narrowing my eyes further on him, I was now a little angry. All I had to do was move aggressively in one direction or another and all six men trying to wrestle me to the ground were flung backward off of me. I took one step forward and tapped the man on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, but this isn't the time to throw around slurs." I interjected. "What a small man you must be to justify seven men piling on and trying to subdue one 'little bitch', as you call it. I suggest therapy."

He spun around to face me, his face obscured by a neck gaiter and his eyes by sunglasses. "How about you shut the fuck up, put your hands behind your back, and stop resisting!" He noticed the men starting to get back up after I knocked them down. He immediately pulled a gun from its holster. "GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!"

I didn't flinch. "No."

He fired four rounds at me, alarming just about everyone else. The other agents immediately turned toward me, leveling their weapons on me. The gathered crowd of protestors let out screams and lowered themselves to the ground. The world once again slowed to a crawl as I began moving. I grabbed his firearm out of his hands and moved back to the spot I had been standing in front of the building and held up the pistol. When the speed of the world resumed, I was standing a little bit away from him. My arm was outstretched with his pistol in my hand. I slowly closed my hand into a fist, crushing the firearm in the process.

"The violence ends now." I stated plainly as the color drained from the face of the man before me.

"AVS confirmed at the bottling plant. Four vehicles spotted." Lauren stated over the comms.

"Seraphim busy. I will handle." Týr replied.

Part of me was curious to know what he meant by "handle" but the more dominant part reminded me to stay focused on the task at hand for the moment. These agents had escalated the situation to deadly force. So far, only I had been on the receiving end of the muzzle flash. There was definitely a risk the agents would turn that force on the protestors and I was not going to let that happen. Taking a breath, my eyes met the sunglasses lenses of the agents around me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you cannot hurt me. You cannot move me. You will not breach this factory." I stated in a calm voice but projected so they could hear me. "I've no intention of harming you. I would hope you have no intentions of harming either the good people gathered here to exercise their First Amendment rights or the Fourth Amendment rights of the people within this building. I ask that you turn around and head back to your headquarters, then tell your superiors that Chicago is off limits. Your operation will be a failure so long as I am here."

The squeak of feedback from a microphone sounded. I had to bring my hands to my ears because of it. Then, a gruff male voice shouted. "GET ON THE GROUND, METAHUMAN! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST!"

"I am a citizen of these United States. You do not have the authority to detain me and I will not comply."

"Oh, this is going viral. I'm getting over one hundred thousand viewers on the live stream. We're getting a lot of vocal support for this. Keep it up." Lauren informed me over comms.

None of this was about fame or views. I could really care less if something I was doing was popular or not. All I knew was what the President and his cronies were doing was wrong on several levels. Someone had to intervene on behalf of the innocent people that were being caught up in some warped crusade to "make America great again". This wasn't greatness. It was cowardice and prejudice.

A hatch popped open on a couple of the military surplus APCs that ICE had brought. Out of the hatches appeared a single man with some sort of device that I couldn't quite decipher. After a moment, I heard several "thunk" sounds from those devices/weapons. In the next moment, there were explosions. They had fired flashbang grenades over the protestors which was answered by frightened screams. The sound of aluminum hitting asphalt followed and white smoke began to form. If they couldn't get to me, they were going to go after the protestors. Not on my watch. It didn't seem at all that these ICE enforcers were going to respond to calls to their better selves. They were out to cause violence. There had to be a way to solve this. There's always another way.

For so long these agents have had masks over their faces and existed in the realm of anonymity. It's well known in psychology that the veil of anonymity is a heck of a drug that lowers adherence to social norms as well as increasing aggressive and anti-social behavior. Any news story about 4Chan in the past fifteen years confirms the phenomenon. The veil of anonymity in online spaces has certainly widened the divisions already present in people of the 21st Century. Mix in a heavy dose of unchecked power and a sense of impunity to produce a volatile soup that has become of the Immigration & Customs Enforcement agency. Their actions are those of fascists. What are fascists allergic to? The truth.

"Veritas, encircle your drones around the ICE agents." I requested. "I'll buy you some time. Be prepared to get photographs in a clockwise manner from my current position."

"What are you going to do, Seraphim?" She wondered.

"Expose the truth and see that justice is done someday."

Hearing the little motors on the drones get a little louder, I knew they were moving into the formation I requested. Meanwhile, the world once again slowed to a crawl as I leapt laterally then willed myself to hover in mid-air near the agents. I gave them all a similar stern look that I might use with my daughters when they step out of line. The world returned to normal speed.

"I am going to give you one last chance: disengage now." I demanded. "I would advise you to find a different line of work. What you're doing is wrong."

My answer was a rapid fire of pepper balls and rubber bullets that would cause extreme discomfort or seriously injure anyone else this sort of onslaught was visited upon. They didn't care.

"Suit yourself. Veritas, begin."

Once again, the world slowed to a crawl. I landed and began running around on the level the most agents were on. My idea was two fold: I would remove the masks and any other articles they were using to conceal their identities, then I would also relieve them of all their weapons. It was frankly rather extensive work. I had to move in such a way that the intended action was performed and no one was injured. When you're moving that fast and have the kind of strength that I do, delicate movements are the key. Everyone around me looked a lot like a department store mannequin, so I treated them as such. I removed sunglasses and ballcaps. I pulled down masks and neck gaiters. I took sidearms and any other firearms then unceremoniously crushed them. I took their paintball guns with pepper balls as well as their rubber bullet launchers, crushing them as well. Their flashbangs and gas grenades were removed from their gear as well. I took everything from them they might use to harm anyone in the vicinity. While I was at it, I gathered the gas grenades off the ground and threw them into the air. It's likely they could have gone into orbit.

When everything was done, I returned to the same spot I had been hovering in before. When the world returned to normal speed, there was panic. For once, it wasn't the protestors doing the panicking. Shutter sounds echoed through the area as Lauren's drones took photos and catalogued the faces of every single agent in attendance. They gasped when they realized they had none of their weapons, lethal or non-lethal. They seemed to scramble for a few moments. Now was my time to narrow my eyes on them.

"I tried to warn you, ladies and gentlemen. Now I'm not asking. Get out of my city. Quit your job. What you're doing is wrong and it will not continue. Wherever you threaten the livelihood, safety, and security of the people I have taken under my charge, I will be there to stop you. Your days of terrorizing the people of Chicago with impunity ends here. Get in your vehicles and leave."

Without their faces covered or their weapons, the agents were on the back foot. They learned very quickly that I am not to be underestimated or trifled with. In haste, they loaded back into their various vehicles and quickly left the scene with their tails between their legs. They had been outmatched and every tool of oppression they had used was taken away from them. People with that much bluster and willing to visit that much violence on people are not strong men. They're cowards masquerading in the worst cosplay ever seen.

The crowd of protestors erupted in cheers all around me.

"That was amazing, Seraphim!" Veritas shouted. "I got all of it! We'll be able to cross-reference databases and employ facial recognition to expose these assholes all over the place! So much for their veil of secrecy!"

"Could use help." Týr finally chimed in. "Girl here turn to magma. Agents trying to get to her. She could melt my hand. Much fire."

With a nod to the crowd of protestors, I jolted myself in the air toward the beverage factory. There were five military grade APCs around the entrance and all of them bore the logo for American Vanguard Solutions. Part of my brain wanted to ascertain how deeply AVS had their tentacles into taxpayers' money through the Department of Homeland Security but that would have to wait. Unfortunately most of the personnel had gone inside, leaving only the drivers in the vehicles left outside. I also had a sneaking suspicion it might be a little easier to convince the AVS people to leave than it had been for ICE.

Entering the building, I encountered a lot of fire and an unhealthy amount of smoke. The world slowed to a crawl as I made my way through the building. There was a situation to attend to, yes, but I wanted to make sure people were able to leave the building if they needed to. Thankfully, there were only one or two people in the entire building that hadn't been able to evacuate. Getting them out was easy enough.

Finally, I found myself in the belly of the problem. There were fires all around the area that would have to be dealt with, of course. Though, a lot of my attention was on a 10-foot tall person that seemed to be entirely made of lava with fire-glowing eyes and fire for hair. There were no legs to speak of. Just arms of fury, eyes of rage, and did I mention the hair was just fire and smoke?

"Good golly, if I didn't know any better I would believe that was an animatronic Te Ka right there before me!" I exclaimed.

"Seraphim, seriously?! A Moana reference?!" Veritas objected.

"I have a daughter less than ten years old. I've seen it hundreds of times."

"Less talking. More helping." Týr grumbled.

"Right. Drag AVS out of here and stand guard over the door. I'll get these fires out and have a word with Te Ka, here." I suggested.

"I like dragging idea." Týr admitted. The next thing I heard below me and over the comms was some kind of war cry in a language I had no hope of deciphering.

Moving quickly, I moved in a circle and utilized my frost breath to tame the fires. It took a little time, but they were eventually under control. I landed gently before the lava creature and looked into what I think was the eyes. Behind me, there were agents barking orders at Týr who obviously wasn't listening. From the sound of it, there were at least six bodies dragging on the ground behind the big guy. I held my arms up to the lava thing in surrender. What I interpreted from the individual was fear more than anger or malice. Thus, I acted accordingly.

"I'm not here to hurt you." I told the form before me.

"You're with them!" The thing actually talked and seemed to screech. I think she was female. There was no way to tell in this form for certain, but I remembered Týr saying something about it. Maybe he had seen her transform into this?

Next thing I know, an arm coiled itself and then smacked me with a backhand. I've been hit before. However, I'd never actually been struck in a way that affected me until that moment from anyone other than Týr. The strike sent me careening into some factory equipment that will likely never work again after this. I wasn't hurt but actually being moved by a hit was different. Collecting myself, I slowly walked back to where I was standing before with my hands up in surrender the whole time.

"No, I'm not associated with American Vanguard Solutions and I condemn their actions." I told the lava form in front of me. "I'm actually here to protect you from them. Sorry I was late. Dealing with ICE at the mattress factory held me up. The man with the metal hand is a friend of mine. His name is Týr, by the way."

The lava being cocked its head to the side and the eyes looked astonishingly expressive. It almost seemed to be raising an eyebrow at me. "You're fightin' those goons?"

"Yes, I am. I've dedicated myself to protecting the people of Chicago. That means all the people from all over the area... even the superpowered ones."

The lava being scoffed. "This ain't no superpower. I'm cursed."

I lowered my hands, rather certain I wasn't going to get hit again. "That's not true."

"Easy for you to say, gringa. Did you sprout tits in moments and end up the same age as your own niece? Not only that, you got racial-profiling ICE and their AVS friends breathing down your neck just 'cause you're broke and brown? Didn't think so."

I took a long breath. "While I can't say I have the exact same experience as you, I can say that I basically became a female twin of my eldest daughter. The world around me seems to be made of cardboard and one little slip up can really hurt someone. That much I understand. I'm doing what I can to help with the rest. I'm sorry you're dealing with so much."

"How old were you... before?"

"Forty-five. You?"

"Thirty-six. My baby girl had just turned three." The lava being seemed to be getting smaller before my eyes. "How old are you now?"

"Seventeen. I live with my mom, if you can believe it." I smirked.

As the being shrank, it became more and more human. "Same. Only reason I got this job is because I have a buddy that forged some papers."

"I get it: you're just trying to survive. It's not right that ICE and AVS are rounding people up the way they are."

Finally, the form solidified into a Hispanic teenager. I could clearly hear her voice, finally. "No, it ain't. What are you gonna do about it?"

"Everything I can. You have a name? I'm Seraphim."

"They're callin' me 'Alma', these days."

I offered a smile. "Well, Alma, why don't you get out of here and maybe go hug that little girl of yours real tight. They grow up quicker than you think. My oldest just graduated high school."

Her eyes teared up. "I will. Thanks." She turned to run out the back door.

"You're welcome."

"Coast is clear, Seraphim. We've got AVS leaving the scene as we speak. Nice work, everybody."

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

Sitting in a small, meticulously arranged studio in a basement in Ohio would not have been on my list of things to accomplish after the showdown in Chicago. There would no doubt be ramifications for the actions taken, but I was keeping a promise. The chair I had been given was comfortable enough but I never knew how to sit anymore. There are so many social expectations on someone perceived to be a young woman that baffled me. I opted for the classic pose of sitting up straight with one leg crossed over the other. It was simple and should pass expectations.

The young woman across from me in a chair of her own wore a simple white and short-sleeved blouse, gray vest, and nicely pressed tan slacks. She wore very little makeup where I wore none. Her posture was a little more slouching but her ankles were crossed near the floor. Her dark brown hair was tied in a no-nonsense ponytail and her almost gray blue eyes focused on the cameras before she looked at me.

"You ready for this? I'm not going to pull any punches and we're likely going to be the talk of the internet for the next week," Lindsey Lane cautioned me with a large notepad sitting in her lap.

"Admittedly, I'm a bit nervous, but I'm ready for people to see what I might have to say about some things." I answered her.

"Your funeral." She joked before turning to click the mouse that sat on a little table beside her. She offered a smile to a camera that sat far enough to her right—my left—that it gave a panoramic view of both she and I in our seats. "Hello, everyone! Welcome to The Planet Daily. We are now live on Twitch, YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram. You can listen through audio on the app formerly known as Twitter as well. I'm your host, Lindsey Lane. With me today is probably someone the chat is going crazy about right now, the enigmatic Seraphim. She's come out of the woodwork and made a name for herself over the course of the past couple of months." She then turned to me. "Seraphim..."

I straightened my posture a little. "Miss Lane."

Lindsey rolled her eyes at me. "Right. The first and most pertinent question, as I see it, is: why put on the suit and do what you do?"

"Great question." I smiled while finding a good answer in my head. "Originally, the suit was a pragmatic choice. I needed something that could withstand many of the things that I can. The first thing I did that people might remember is subdue someone with fire-based powers in a mall. The fire burned my clothing. I thought it would be a bad look if my clothing couldn't handle the same things I can."

Lindsey clicked her pen before speaking. "So, why intervene at all? At the time, weren't you just some bystander in that same mall going about your business like everybody else?"

"I was, yes. Like many people at the time, I was just trying to buy some clothes. When I heard the frightened screams, I felt like I had to act. At that time, I knew what sort of powers I had and how they might be applied in some situations. I had the ability to protect people who might be frightened or hurt, so I did."

"No hesitation on your part whatsoever?"

"No. None at all. People were scared and someone might be hurt. That's all that mattered to me."

"What made you decide a suit was the best idea?"

"Again, in that confrontation with the young man with fire powers, my clothes were burned and I was afraid that similar situations might create 'not safe for work' videos based on how many people were filming me. It was about maintaining modesty and practicality."

"Could you set the record straight on whether or not you were the person seen on the SkyCam footage back in May of this year?"

"I was the person in the footage."

"So, you had an idea about the color scheme for your costume–or uniform–all the way back in May?"

"No, I didn't. That was a joke from..." My brain wanted to say 'my daughter' but caught itself before continuing. "...a friend. She had red leggings, a yellow shirt, and a blue hoodie she put me in before we went to a park to test my powers. I was still in a veil of denial at that time."

"Denial that you had powers and what had happened to you was reality or not?"

"Yes and no? When the event occurred on April 29th, I would imagine everyone dealing with the ramifications was in some level of denial throughout May. I didn't really have the luxury of denying the reality of what had occurred. On April 28th, I was a forty-five year old man stuck in a corporate rut. By April 30th, I was a seventeen year old girl with superpowers. I don't believe my experience is an isolated incident."

"There is evidence of other people affected by this event that came out the other end with superpowers. I've got sources confirming someone in Seattle, Los Angeles, New York, and even as far as Puerto Rico."

"I can confirm personal knowledge of the woman in Seattle and the one in Los Angeles, personally. I know them both."

"How do you know them, exactly?"

"I can't disclose that, Miss Lane. To protect their safety and mine, I won't."

"Would you say that putting on the suit is also a way to protect your safety?"

"In a round about way, yes. For the record: I did not design my suit, but I did have approval or veto power." I tapped my chest. "Not even this emblem was my creativity, but that of others. The designer of the suit is Dr. Ingrid Voss and she'll be glad I told you. She's very proud of it. The designer of the emblem doesn't wish to be named publicly."

She wrote something on her notepad before looking at me with a raised eyebrow. "Are you not afraid of an impending legal battle? The suit bears a striking resemblance to a certain character that belongs to Warner Brothers Discovery and DC Comics through them."

"I raised that concern myself. Given that I practically appear to be a Rule 63 of the character and have all the powers, I thought going for a similar costume design might raise more than a few eyebrows." I admitted. "Dr. Voss is very confident that will not be the case. Neither she nor I have been contacted by Warner Brothers Discovery by way of a cease and desist order, as of this moment."

"So why tread that line and design the suit in such a way?"

"The similarities are there for a reason: they're recognizable. Even people that have never consumed a single piece of media about Superman know who he is and what he generally looks like. They see the blue suit, red trunks and boots and cape, as well as the yellow accents and know that person is a force for good. When I first went to see Dr. Voss, I was simply there to ask what sort of materials a suit like this might be made of based on the needs I had. She volunteered to design and produce the suit based on my answers to her questions."

"What were those questions?"

"My intentions. She, like you and many other people, questioned my motives. Let's be honest: until three months ago, superheroes were fantasy. They were the stuff of graphic novels, some pretty compelling video games, and multibillion-dollar franchises in the movie theaters. Thus, what would possess someone to think they could do such things in our world? Fame? Fortune?" I shook my head. "Not for me. There may come a time when people seek those kinds of things, but I won't be one of them. I do what I do because I care, I have the ability, and I feel like that bestows on me a certain level of responsibility. No one is imposing that on me. It's just the kind of values I was brought up with. The strong don't dominate the weak, in my eyes. The strong are those that have the ability to help people that may not be able to help themselves and do so. The strong are those that know they can do something about the wrongs happening in our world and have the wisdom to know when they should intervene or when they shouldn't."

"Some pretty compelling moral character."

"What can I say? Like the man from Krypton, I am a farm boy at heart. My parents raised me with midwestern values that carry through to make me the person I am today."

Again, she raised an eyebrow at me. "How do you identify, these days? What are your pronouns? How do you see yourself?"

That series of questions caused me to sigh. "I... Well, to the world, I'm some girl in a tight blue suit, red hotpants, some rather nice boots, and a cape. Out of the suit, I'm just another teenage girl trying to navigate the world. In my mind and in my heart? I don't know. I lived for forty-five years as a man with a male body. I was rather proud of some of my accomplishments and not so proud of others. I had a life before this that's not so easy to let go of. I don't really know what I think of myself, right now, but I'm trying to make the best of it."

"How do you feel about being referred to as a 'girl' and with 'she/her' pronouns?"

"I've made my peace with it. It's what people see and what they can base their beliefs on. I understand that I'm something of a role model for young girls and that's fine with me. I'm working through some things, but it can be a lonely road at times."

"Is that why you saved the Camp Mystic girls and many others on the morning of Independence Day? To feed the role model narrative?"

"No. I woke up to some of the most horrifying screams I've ever heard in my life. I have children of my own. No parent ever wants to hear that sound. I went to Texas not knowing the source of the screams or why the kids were screaming. I just knew they needed help and I was the one that could be there to help." A tear welled up in my eyes. "I couldn't live with myself thinking of the pain their parents would have gone through had I not been there. There are still people who died that day and I still feel their loss. I can't help but blame myself for not getting to them in time."

Lindsey leaned forward with an understanding look on her face. "You might be faster than anyone can really comprehend, but even you can't save everyone. You're still human."

"I'm still learning that lesson."

"One final question: some would say that you've begun a crusade against Immigration & Customs Enforcement in Chicago and their partners, American Vanguard Solutions. What do you have to say to that?"

"I will not stand idly by and allow fascism to come to Chicago. The DOJ, DHS, and the President himself all make a mockery of the law. They're abusing people and stoking fear. According to the only data being analyzed on the topic, ninety-percent of people being held in ICE custody have no criminal record whatsoever. They're incarcerating innocent people, racial profiling others, and causing fear in our communities. AVS is worse. They're a private company contracted with the federal government to apprehend people simply because they have powers. The administration sees people like me as a threat and they want to eliminate that threat."

"What do you have to say to the people that state your actions justify theirs? That you and others like you are fueling the fears while proving the government's point?"

"Propaganda. I save people. I protect the innocent. I have exercised incredible restraint and ensured that no federal officer has been physically harmed by my actions. I have taken their weapons of war and their lethal force away from them and crushed it. If we don't protect the First Amendment, what's the point of any of the others?"

"Well said. Thank you, Seraphim."

"You're welcome, Miss Lane."