Extraordinary Mistakes

Megan sits under a tree on the university’s campus and looks around. Many students pass by, commenting on the massacre that happened on the Institute. They share their theories about it. It has been the most debated theme for a few days now.

The woman with the red shoes, sandals today, leaves a building. Three others join her. They are younger than her. They talk for a bit outside and Megan can tell that both the boys and the girl are flustered. They hide it as well as they can, and the woman with the red shoes either doesn’t notice it or pretends not to.

She waves them goodbye, setting a firm distance between them as she puts her hand covering the sun hitting her dark brown eyes. She takes her also black sunglasses out of her pursue and puts them on. As soon as she turns her back on them and starts walking they keep watching her leave their sight.

Megan won’t follow her today, she wants to, but a more pressing issue, one that she has to discuss with Rachel, is the priority of the day. When she gets back home, she pulls Rachel to her room.

“I thought we had no secrets.”

“Megan, I respect that you’re a person of few words. But sometimes more is needed. I don’t understand what you mean.”

“The connection between deviants with powers. I always thought that was a myth.”

“Oh, that.” Rachel looks away for a bit. “It isn’t. When I first felt it, I thought it was my side effects, but I told my aunt, and she said that her and my mother had it too, and that it stopped when she committed the fatal flaw. Same with me and Emily Roberts.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Because we are entitled to our privacy.”

Megan’s eyebrows raise immediately, and she crosses her arms.

“Privacy, eh? Want to call it that?”

Rachel scoffs and looks away for a second.

“Where were you until now? I know you won’t answer me, Megan. See? I don’t ask you about the human that you keep following around, because you are entitled to your privacy.”

“Please, it’s not the same and you know it.” Megan looks directly to her eyes. “Anything else that you are hiding from us?”

“From you, Megan?” Rachel points at her and lowers her voice. “Or from them? There’s a big difference on the answer depending on who I’m keeping something from. This Emily Roberts thing didn’t feel necessary, that’s all.”

Meanwhile in the living room, Ánh walks around, talking to herself, ignoring that Alex is in the room reading.

“I can’t believe they are making up this new extremist group!”

She taps her left foot making too much noise. Alex takes a deep breath and tries to focus on his reading.

“And people just buy it... They weren’t using any power. Just regular guns. But sure, they are deviants. Of course!” She shouts.

“Ánh...” He closes his book. “Humans fear all deviants, even those who have no powers. We know this was fake, but to the regular person, the government says they’re deviants, so they are. No one questions the most comfortable explanation,” he taps on his book.

Diego opens the door to the living room, Ánh meets his eyes.

“Ánh, can we talk?”

"Perdon, amigo! I am staying. You two find somewhere else to have this... difficult conversation.” Alex dives back into his book and stays on the couch.

Ánh hesitates at first but gives in and follows Diego. They sit on a bench on their garden.

“Why would you put yourself in danger like that?”

“Innocent people were in danger, Diego. We had to do something. We couldn’t just leave them to die.”

“Ok, and why you? Rachel’s the most powerful. Megan is the Angel of Death. Alex can teleport. What use could you have in a fight? All that you do is... math.”

Ánh looks away and moves a bit farther from him.

“My power matters. Even when your loop of self-hatred and shame cloud you.”

“Shame?” He laughs. “This is about you, Ánh! You are selfish! You didn’t think of me. How you hurt me by leaving. You abandoned me!”

“I’m tired of this! This thing that we do. We keep going in circles. I didn’t leave you!” She turns her back at him for a moment, holding back her tears. She turns again. “You made your choice to stay! You could’ve come with us, but you decided it was okay for them to die!”

“And why not? They are responsible for our awful life!” He gets up and faces her.

“We are responsible for our lives! We make our own choices on how to live.” She takes a few steps back.

“None of this is my choice, Ánh! I didn’t choose for Megan to destroy my home! For her to kill... mi padre! Mi madre! Mi hermanita! Y el amor de mi vida! Qué sabes tu sobre eso, Ánh?Tú has abandonado tus padres.”

For her to kill... my father! My mother! My little sister! And the love of my life! What do you know about it, Ánh? You left your parents. Tears roll down her face as she keeps repeating it in her head.

The love of his life. A tittle that belonged to a dead girl. A love that no one could compete with.

“Everything you just said... everything...” Ánh’s tears keep falling. “I understood. I never said I knew exactly how you felt, Diego, and what you went through. But how dare you? Saying that I abandoned my parents, like it was easy for me. How dare you?”

He leaves and Ánh falls to her knees. Her crying gets louder and louder. She looks up and meets Alex’s eyes as he stands on the window. He shuts the curtains.

At a four-star hotel, the Council gathers in time. The president of the United States of America and the advisors weren’t asked to participate on this meeting.

“Everyone, I can’t even begin to express my disappointment. We had everything in our hands... and we lost it. Such a monumental failure! A bunch of children outmaneuvered us-” Edward starts to say.

“Sir, we willfind a solution. Our department is already working on new scenarios.“Laurence looks around in his papers. “We do not know how the terroristsfound out about the operation, but we are inquiring, and there are no news orsocial media posts about them saving anyone.”

“Obviously!” Edward hits the table with his hand. “At least the marketing department works well since the rest of you are a disgrace! Imagine if the headlines were The Angel of Death saves the day.”

“The weapons worked, sir,” Thomas smiles.

“Against a deviant, a weapon must kill, Thomas. Not tickle.”

Thomas reminds the room that Marianne is the one who developed the bullets.

“Strategy, how’s the mind wiping going?”

“Wiping, sir?” Saif looks around the room, and Laurence avoids his eyes.

“Yes, I don’t want a single trace of gratitude for those terrorists in anyone’s mind.”

“Wiping has devastating long-term effects on deviants, sir.”

“Have I stu-tu-tu-tte-red?!” Edward throws the cup of water against a wall. “The official version is that the security corps killed the terrorists!”

“But-” Saif continues.

“Shut it, Saif!” He points at him. “I’ll leave the number one and two out of the wiping, but those are the only exceptions.” He turns to Madeleine and takes a few short breaths. “Madeleine, you must explain to them that they are our future. They must ensure that every deviant in the world knows what they felt at that moment. How they could’ve died and only the security corps helped!”

“What about En Nagoyan, sir?” Laurence gives up trying to find the papers.

“Who?”

“A former student of the Institute. The wiping has shown her with Rachel Moore, the Angel of Death, and an unidentified male. They talked to Abigail Parker on the hallway. Should we expose En Nagoyan as a member?”

“No...” Edward takes off his glasses. “Let’s just add her to our list and monitor her family and friends to see if she contacts them.”

“What about Abigail Parker? Should we wipe her memory?” Madeleine asks.

“I’m surrounded by idiots. We wipe her memory, and next time she heads to Eurasia with her parents, if they have a more talented mind controller, they’ll know we wiped. Of course not!”

“What about the terrorist group?” Laurence asks.

“I’m tired of them. They have served their purpose. I want them all dead.” Edward pours himself a glass of whisky.

“Edward!” Madeleine waves, “is that necessary? I know the terrorists are super annoying, but they are useful. People hate Rachel Moore, she’s the daughter of Matthew Moore, who they also hated. I just think that people have grown attached to that little monster. If it’s a new leader of a new terrorist group... people will be like ‘why do we hate them?’ right?”

Why am I being contradicted today by even freaking Madeleine? Since when do you care so much about anything other than your latest cosmetic intervention?

“They are a nuisance. We have to eliminated them. Madeleine, your only job is to talk to our girls. Stick to it. And everyone else, stop being so incompetent!” With a last shout, Edward ends the meeting.

Marianne’s temperature drops to below zero. Edward no longer tolerated their group. They would hunt them and she knew it was a matter of time until they found them.

You could’ve lived an entire life hidden, Megan. Why risk it all and come back from the dead? To fight for what?

Marianne stays behind to pack her things, her thoughts keep racing, until Thomas grabs her arm.

“I love a good turn of events, don’t you?” he smiles.

“Please don’t waste my time.” She takes his hand off and looks at her wristwatch.

“Well, Marianne. Let’s see. My daughter will live to see another day and yours will in no time... die.”

“Oh, Thomas. Your ingenuity never fails to humor me. Today she is of worth to them, but yesterday wasn’t, and tomorrow... who knows? The Angel of Death is not my daughter, and it already cheated death once. I pity whoever they put in charge of trying to kill it.”

“It isn’t such a threat anymore. Fifteen years have gone by and can’t use death. We all know that.”

He pours a glass of whisky and offers to her. She smiles, takes the glass and puts it away.

“Her pacifism is just an act. If she could use her ability, she would. Probably there’s even a limit to the fatal flaw. Her act was so atrocious that even God said, ‘that’s enough’.” He laughs and grabs the glass. “I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll be one in charge of killing it!” He smiles, drinks a bit, and meets her eyes. “Using one of your superbly developed bullets. Ones that work better than now, of course.”

“Oh, Thomas.” Marianne laughs. “When we get to a certain age, we don’t experience anything new anymore. Everything is just something that we have lived before. And yet... here’s something that I haven’t seen ever, even on the Great War, a deviant willing to kill another with a human weapon.”