Strike: The Returning Sunrise

By Charlie Wood

Book Three of The Strike Series

Tobin Lloyd has discovered the identity of the Daybreaker.

And it has shaken him to his very core.

Everything that Tobin knew has been destroyed. Boston, Massachusetts is under the control of super-villains. The world thinks he is a monster. And he can no longer even trust himself.

Now, Tobin and his friends—Orion, Keplar, and Scatterbolt—only have one chance at stopping Rigel and the Daybreaker: they must infiltrate the Daybreaker's skyscraper and discover the next two phases of Rigel's plan for the invasion of Earth. If they don't, the entire universe is doomed.

No more questions. No more secrets. No holds barred. It has all led to this.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charlie Wood
• Release date: Sep 7, 2021

Charlie Wood

Charlie Wood lives with his wife, Kate, in Massachusetts. He enjoys movies, baseball, and comic books. This is his first novel.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

MANY YEARS AGO

Crouching behind a marble pillar in the Guardian Headquarters training room, Orion Hobbes tightened the red mask around his eyes and looked up. His teammate, Matt Taylor, also known as the superhero Titan, was using his feathered, eagle-like wings to soar high above the training room floor. After dive-bombing through a metal gate only seconds before it slammed shut, he used his shining, silver broadsword to cut down a series of dangling, electrified razor wires, before flapping his wings and moving on to the next area of the obstacle course.

Why can’t I be like that? Orion thought to himself. Never nervous, never frazzled. Orion was seventeen years old now and had been a member of the Guardians superhero team for over three years, but he still got so anxious before training sessions that most days he could barely bring himself to leave his room. Only Orion’s best friend, Scott, knew that sometimes Orion got so nervous beforehand that he even spent several minutes locked in the bathroom, vomiting his guts out. And before real missions, real battles? Forget it. It was the moments before the real missions that Orion wondered if he was cut out for this type of superhero life at all.

Red Wolf, pay attention, Orion heard a stern voice say. Keep up with your partner as you move toward your goal.

Orion looked to his right. The Guardians’ mentor and trainer, Steve Dawson, was standing in his usual spot in the corner of the training room, away from all the traps and obstacles, with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on his students. He was a slightly heavy-set black man in his mid-forties, with a black goatee and trim, black hair that was just starting to go gray. He had the body of a retired athlete, Orion always thought, which made sense considering he was once a star fozzball player in college.

Sorry, Ranger, Orion replied, using the name Steve once went by when he was a cowboy hat-wearing, laser pistol-toting superhero. Won’t happen again.

Then Orion suddenly heard a scream above him.

Arrrgghh!

Orion looked up: Matt had been shot by a laser blast from one of the training room robots. The blast had hit him right in the ribs, in the rare area that wasn’t covered by Matt’s gold-plated costume. Orion’s winged partner was now holding his side and flying not quite as majestically as before, bobbing up and down in the air as he tried to avoid more laser fire from the robot.

Orion looked ahead. He saw a six-foot-tall, one-eyed, humanoid robot, hiding behind a steel wall and popping out every few seconds to fire his laser rifle at Matt. Reaching for an arrow from his quiver, Orion pulled back the string of his bow and aimed the weapon in the robot’s direction. After timing it perfectly, the next time the robot popped his head out, Orion let the arrow fly and pierced the metallic pest, right through his glowing blue eye. As anxious as Orion could be before training sessions, he could still sling an arrow with the best of them.

Very good, Red Wolf, Steve said. Way to keep an eye on your teammate. Steve shouted louder now, so Matt could hear him high up near the mountain’s ceiling. But don’t be careless, Titan. You were so busy flying towards your target that you forgot about your opponents on the ground.

I know, Matt replied from the air, flapping his wings and floating in place above Orion. But I didn’t think there would be any ‘bots until we got further toward the base. Matt looked down. Thanks for the save, O. I thought I was toast there for a second.

Titan, Steve said, annoyed. Watch the use of real names in the battlefield.

Sorry, Steve, Matt replied, before shaking his head and correcting himself. I mean, Ranger.

On the ground, now concerned about the potential for more training robots, Orion ran ahead through the obstacle course, jumping over gaping pits in the floor and darting behind pillars. Sure enough, as he got closer to the other team’s base, he could see three more training ‘bots keeping guard. However, with three quick motions of Orion’s arm, the red-garbed superhero easily took care of them; before they even knew anyone was approaching, the robots dropped to the floor with a dull THUD!, with glowing red arrows through their silver skulls.

Titan, Orion said into the communicator near his mouth. Any sign of the enemy?

Not yet, Red Wolf, Matt replied, his voice coming through Orion’s earpiece. But I think I—yeah, I think I see some kind of movement at the base’s entrance. Something fluttering in the wind. Want me to move closer?

Yes, Orion said, stringing another arrow in his bow. I’m right behind you.

Moving ahead to the end of the obstacle course, Orion reached the enemy’s metallic, fortress-like base. Directly in front of the ground-level entrance of the building, there was a blue flag sticking in the ground, waiting for him and Matt.

This doesn’t seem right, Orion said.

I know, Matt said from above, with his forehead furrowed and his eyes suspicious. There should be much more security than this. If we wanted to, we could just walk right up and take the flag. But why would—

Then there was a sudden, loud, grinding rumbling below Orion, like two sheets of steel being dragged across each other. The ground began to vibrate, and when Orion looked down to his feet, he saw the floor suddenly open up, revealing a dark, gaping pit filled with slithering snakes and giant, crawling rats. Leaping to his right, Orion escaped the pit, but he was only able to grab onto the edge with his fingertips, leaving his legs to dangle over the disgusting vermin below him.

As Matt watched his teammate struggle to swing himself up to safety, he once again heard the sound of grinding, groaning steel. Looking ahead, he suddenly saw another entrance opening up, near the top of the enemy base. Matt hadn’t even known there was an entrance there.

What the hell? Matt whispered, confused, as the second gate of the enemy base slowly opened.

Then Matt saw his enemy, the occupant of the base. It was his and Orion’s Guardians teammate, Scott Webber, also known as the superhero Strike. As Scott moved out of the shadows of the gate, he was wearing his dark blue costume, with his mask over the lower part of his face, his black cape on his back, and his glowing, electrified bo-staff in his hand.

However, it wasn’t his appearance that was out of the ordinary; this was how Scott always looked when he was in his Strike gear. It was what was underneath Scott that was out of the ordinary.

Scott was riding on the back of a giant, fat, robotic, metallic grizzly bear. The silver bear had wings on its sides like a jet, laser blasters equipped on each of its wrists, and a snarling snout full of metal, shining teeth. Strangest of all, the bear was wearing sunglasses.

As Matt watched, with his mouth dropped open and his eyes in disbelief, Scott and the bear stepped out of the second-story fortress gate. Behind them, there were two more robotic grizzly bears, identical to the first.

Behold! Scott shouted, in his best, melodramatic, over-the-top voice. He sounded like the villain from an old medieval-times movie. The Mighty Grizzly Bear Army of the Ninth Region of Grabbaladoo! They all heed the call of the magnificent Strike! And… Scott paused for dramatic effect, before adding his favorite part of the scheme. "They are wearing sunglasses!"

With a laugh, Matt swooped down toward the base and headed for Scott, but the bears quickly stood up on their hind legs and fired on the winged-hero with their laser blasters. Matt had to swiftly dodge their green laser fire and head back up toward the ceiling.

Not so fast, Winged Heartthrob of the Skies! Scott shouted from atop his steed, holding his electrified bo-staff in the air. With the Mighty Grizzly Bear Army at my disposal, you shall never defeat me!

Matt shook his head, grumbling. God, you’re annoying. Do you really have to be in character?

Riding atop the lead grizzly bear, Scott flew down to ground level and ripped the blue flag from its spot on the floor. Yes, it’s much more fun, he said, before shaking his head. I mean, ‘character?’ What dost thouest speaketh of? I am not-ith in character-ith.

Matt laughed. What the hell kind of accent is that?

Steve was still watching from the ground, with his arms across his chest and his eyes focused on Scott and Matt. Titan, don’t let him distract you.

I’m not, Matt said, but it’s not like he can get by me just by using his terrible jokes and fake accent. He— Matt’s eyes went wide. Uh-oh.

With a grinding of steel, another gate near the top of Scott’s base opened, and out rushed a dozen more robotic grizzly bears. They also had wings on their sides, laser blasters on their wrists, and clenched, frothing mouths that showed they were very hungry. And, of course, they were wearing sunglasses.

Oh, come on, Matt said, ready for the onslaught about to hit him.

Fly, my wondrous winged babies! Scott shouted, pointing to the new set of bears with his staff. Fly!

As their jet wings ignited with blue flames, the entire pack of grizzly bears leapt up and soared into the sky, forcing Matt to use his best evasive flying maneuvers to avoid the rapid laser fire blasting from their wrists. He knew his only chance to win the game now was to drop down on Scott from above and steal the blue flag from his hand, but it was suddenly impossible—if Matt took his mind off of the pack of bears chasing him for even a second, he would be overwhelmed. He tried to confuse the bears by flying back through all the obstacles he had gone through on his way to Scott’s base, but it was no use—the robotic animals were just as adapt as him at avoiding the metal gates, strings of razor wire, and scorching blow torches.

As the bears chased Matt and matched his every loop-de-loop and hairpin turn, one of them broke from the pack—it was the bear Scott was riding on. With a big grin underneath his mask, Scott steered the bear toward Orion and Matt’s base at the other end of the training room.

Hey, Orion and Matt, I just want to break character here for a second and let you know that I did this all by myself, okay? No help from Vincent or anybody. I just want to make sure you guys know that I beat you all by myself. Now— Scott cleared his throat and resumed his ridiculous accent. On with the triumphant flight of victory!

With Orion still dangling over the pit of snakes and rats and Matt being hit in the air with more laser fire by the second, Scott flew easily and smoothly to the top of their base. After landing his steed, he planted his blue flag in the rooftop right next to Orion and Matt’s red flag.

I claim this land in the name of Scott Webber! he shouted, with one hand gripping the flagpole and one hand on his hip. The greatest, most handsome, most wonderful-est man in the world!

Orion finally swung himself out of the pit and reached the safety of the floor. Did he just say ‘wonderful-est’? he asked himself.

Near the entrance to the Mountain training room, Steve pushed a series of buttons on a control panel on the wall, and instantly all of the robot bears were deactivated, landing peacefully on the floor, while the two bases at either end of the room retreated into the walls.

Very good, Scott, Steve said with a smile, as he walked toward the middle of the room. Excellent use of your environment.

Scott tipped an imaginary cap on the top of his head. Thank you, thank you very much. He walked toward Orion and offered Orion a hand, helping him up off the ground.

Sore and rubbing his wounds, Matt flew down to the ground and landed near the others. That’s not fair. We weren’t prepared for an entire army of flying bear robots.

Yeah, Orion said. That wasn’t part of the exercise.

Steve nodded. I know, I agree that Scott once again bent the rules—

Scott shrugged. You say bent, I say gracefully disregarded.

Steve ignored him. But that doesn’t make up for the fact that, even without the other member of the blue team, he was still able to capture your flag. He was able to beat you, all by himself, and remarkably easily. I want a full report on what went wrong from the two of you tomorrow morning. Got it?

Orion nodded, but with a grumble. Yes, sir. Matt was so annoyed that he didn’t even answer.

Scott stood next to one of the motionless grizzly bears. Can I just point out again that they are wearing sunglasses? How cool is that?

Yes, why are they wearing sunglasses? Steve asked. Why would bears need to wear sunglasses?

Scott shot him a look, as if it was obvious. In case it gets sunny?

Oh, Steve said with a nod. But they’re robots. Why would robots need to— Steve shook his head. He was falling into Scott’s vortex of nonsense again. Why am I having this conversation? he asked, before looking around the room and changing the subject. Where is Vincent, anyway? Has anybody seen him? Why did he miss training again this morning?

I don’t know, Scott replied. I even reminded him a couple hours ago, but he basically ignored me.

Surprise, surprise, Matt said, shaking his head.

Steve let out an angry sigh. I’m getting really tired of this. That’s the third time he’s missed a training session this week. Orion, go find him and tell him to come see me right away.

Orion frowned. Why do I have to go?

Consider it your penalty for losing to Scott.

Scott smiled and clapped his hands, before throwing an arm around Matt. Oh, that has such a wonderful ring to it, don’t you think, guys? Let’s hear that one more time.

With his frown turning into a sneer, Orion turned and exited the training room. Great, he thought to himself. First I get beat by Scott, and now I have to go talk to Vincent when he’s in one of his moods. Could this morning get any worse?

***

On the top floor of the Guardian Headquarters, Orion pushed open the door to Vincent Harris’ room and peeked in. As usual, the bedroom of the fourth member of the Guardians was nearly completely dark, with the only light coming from a small window at the far end of the room, which looked out over the miles and miles of green, leafy treetops that surrounded the mountain.

Vince? Orion said, slowly stepping into the clean, well-organized room. It didn’t look at all like the rooms of the other Guardians, especially Scott’s, which could be shut down for being a toxic waste disaster area. Are you in here?

With his eyes readjusting to the darkness, Orion finally saw his teammate, Vincent, sitting at a large wooden desk near the small window. His back was to Orion and he was facing the wall, but Orion could see that he was hunched over the desk and reading a book.

No, Vincent said, without looking away from the book. I’m outside looking for butterflies. Oh, look at that. Such a pretty one.

Orion shook his head. Yup, Vincent was in one of his moods again. Vince was older than the other Guardians, already twenty years old, and more and more lately it seemed as if he was simply annoyed by them. Over the last few months, several training sessions—and even a few missions—had ended with Vincent screaming obscenities at either Matt, Orion, or Scott, and then stomping off to wherever it was he went when he couldn’t stand to be around them.

If you’re coming in, Vincent said, without turning around, close the door.

Reaching back, Orion shut the door behind him. As he walked toward the desk and small window, he could see that Vincent was wearing a black coat, tight-fitting black T-shirt, and black jeans. This led Orion to believe that at some point this morning, Vincent was at least thinking about going to training, since these were the specially designed clothes made to stretch out and fit Vincent, even when he transformed into his alter-ego—the green-furred, tiger-faced, eight-foot-tall goliath known as the Rantamede. Now, though, as usual when he wasn’t training or on patrol, Vincent was in his human form: tall and incredibly handsome, with a chiseled face that was just now growing out of looking like a teenage boy, topped off by long, thick brown hair that he wore somewhat long, just an inch or two above his shoulders.

Steve’s looking for you, Orion said, stopping a few feet from Vincent’s desk. He’s pretty pissed that you missed practice again.

Vincent’s eyes never left his book. Oh, no. I missed out on getting chased by training robots with the brains of second graders. How will I ever succeed at being a better hero? He turned the page. Somehow, I think Steve will get over it.

Orion was intrigued; Vincent never let him into his room, never mind for this long—that must have meant he actually wanted to talk to somebody for once. Standing on his tippy-toes, Orion peered over Vincent’s shoulder to get a better look at the book. He knew he had never seen the book before; it looked poorly made and was filled with strange drawings and blurry, black-and-white photographs. What are you reading? Orion asked.

Just studying for the exam next week.

No, you’re not. That’s not even one of our course books. Plus, all you do is brag about how you don’t need to study. What is that?

Vincent finally turned around, craning his neck toward Orion. He squinted for a moment, thinking.

Can I tell you something? Something you’ll promise to keep a secret?

Orion was shocked at Vincent’s tone. He couldn’t remember him ever speaking this way, especially to him. Yeah, I guess.

Vincent handed Orion the book. This is why I’ve been missing practice so much lately.

Orion looked at the cover of the book. Its title read:

A HISTORY OF THE WORLD, FROM PREHISTORIC TIMES TO TODAY.

But there wasn’t a picture of the world of Capricious on the front cover.

There was a picture of the planet Earth.

Orion’s heart jumped. He brought the book closer to his face, his eyes wide. Underneath the drawing of the planet Earth, there was a sketch of a prehistoric caveman, an etching of a bearded man in a tall hat, and a picture of a crude-looking airplane made of wood.

Orion opened the cover and looked at the first page. Towards the bottom, it read: PUBLISHED IN NEW YORK CITY. 1931.

This is…this is from the other world, Orion whispered. Where’d you get this? He grew angry. We aren’t allowed to have stuff from the other world. You know what the Leaders would do to you if they found out you had this?

Don’t worry about it, Vincent replied, unfazed. Look at page 77.

Vince, you aren’t—no one’s supposed to have anything from the other world. Where did you—you can’t have things from Earth.

I said, don’t worry about it. Vincent took the book back from Orion, turned to a page, and then shoved it back to him. Now look at that.

Orion held the book away from him. No, I don’t want to, I don’t want to even see anything from—

Just look at it, Vincent said through clenched teeth, pushing the book back to Orion.

With his hands shaking, Orion looked down at the page.

The book showed a black-and-white photograph of an ancient stonewall, covered in vines. Parts of the wall were painted with blocky images of humans and animals—the humans were shirtless and wearing giant feathered headdresses, while the animals were various species of buffaloes and cows. The artwork was fairly intricate, showing the humans hunting and living in settlements, but the images seemed to be faded, as if they had been created hundreds of years ago. A caption under the photograph read: ANCIENT ARTWORK FROM SOUTH AMERICA.

Orion was confused. What is this?

They are temple drawings, Vincent explained. From the walls of an ancient structure on Earth. Made by the Padmains, one of the very first advanced civilizations that lived there. Those drawings were created over 3,000 years ago. According to writings found near the drawings, they depict a time when the Earth was visited by people from another world. The Padmains called them the Sky People.

Orion looked at the next page. The temple drawings there showed the shirtless men in headdresses standing in front of a circular, six-foot-tall, swirling portal of electricity, hovering above the ground. Strange creatures—men with the heads of snakes, armor-wearing foxes, and wild-eyed, fanged goblins—were coming out of the portal and floating down to Earth. The humans were afraid.

Notice anything familiar? Vincent asked.

With his breath caught in his chest and his fingers barely able to hold onto the book, Orion scanned the temple paintings. The creatures emerging from the electrified portals were getting scarier and larger, with each one being more vicious than the next: a rhinoceros-like man, spearing one of the humans with its tusk; a faceless, hooded demon, clawing at a man’s chest; a figure in a space suit, firing a long rifle at the fleeing humans.

Finally, at the bottom of the page, Orion stopped. He stared at the last temple drawing, in shock.

The ancient drawing showed a striped, tiger-like beast, walking on its hind legs like a man and carrying an axe. The beast had long fangs growing from its mouth and black hair running down its neck.

That… Orion gasped, feeling his knees weaken. That…

Looks like me, Vincent replied calmly. Though they really didn’t do a very good job on my nose, don’t you think?

Orion studied the photo, confused and scared, his eyes darting around the page. But it couldn’t be, he thought, as he looked at the paintings more closely. It made no sense. As much as Vincent liked to pretend he wasn’t, he was still just a confused, 20-year-old kid.

How could this be, Vince, from thousands of years ago? Orion asked. How could this be you? This could just be an ancient story—a myth—or it could just be a drawing of something else.

Vincent ran his finger along the words underneath the photo. The text reads that the beast had fur the color of the leaves, and stripes the color of the night sky without stars. And that he could change into a regular man at will.

Orion flipped to the next page. The drawings there showed the tiger-beast attacking the human warriors. Eventually, after many of the human warriors fell in battle, one of the last temple paintings showed the humans surrendering and bowing before the tiger-beast.

Orion stared at the axe-wielding, striped creature in the book, triumphant over the humans. This is—this doesn’t make sense.

Vincent looked out the window at the unending treetops and distant mountain ranges.

Orion, I’ve been saying it all along: there are things out there—things about us—that no one is telling us about. I’m starting to realize there’s a lot of things that don’t make any sense.

Orion turned the page. There was one more photograph of a temple drawing.

This drawing showed a final entity coming through the mirrored portal in the sky. It was a man dressed in shining, sleek armor, with his face covered by a helmet. The man’s armor had spikes running along its arms, and his helmet had lifeless, insect-like eyes and a rectangular grid of identical teeth.

Every person in the painting—even the tiger beast—was kneeling in front of the armored man in the helmet.

Who’s this? Orion asked, pointing at the image.

That is the being that everyone walked in awe of. They all answered to him, once the tiger-beast had finished readying the Earth for him. It says in the temple writings that he was the most powerful of all the Sky People, and that he came to Earth to recreate it for the betterment of the rest of the universe.

What was his name? Orion asked.

Vincent looked at the drawing, in deep thought.

They called him The Daybreaker.

CHAPTER TWO

THE PRESENT

It had been two months since the Dark Nebula fell from the sky and surrounded Boston, Massachusetts. But Boston, Massachusetts was no longer Boston, Massachusetts.

It was now the city of Harrison, the first and capitol city of New Capricious.

Behind the walls of the Dark Nebula, where no one from the outside world could see them, harm them, or interfere with them, the people of Harrison lived in wonderful peace and happiness. The streets were filled with gorgeous, silent, sleek cars and trucks that appeared to be classic models from the 1940’s or 1950’s, except that they gave off no emissions and no pollution. Blimps and airships glided magnificently through the sky, bringing the thousands of citizens of the city wherever they wanted, free of cost and within minutes. Every day was sunny, every sky was blue, and every moment was perfect.

The people of the city were filled with life and joy and a friendly energy. All of the citizens—be they green-skinned, white-skinned, or dark-skinned—considered each other family. They knew they were all in this together—this wonderful, amazing, courageous journey—and they knew they were all a part of something that was going to reconstruct the universe into what they knew it should be. As they walked to work, to home, or to meet their date at one of the diners along the waterfront, they always looked their best—with the men in their dark hats and freshly pressed suits, and the women in their pastel sundresses with their bows and ribbons in their hair. After all, this new world was so clean and crisp and shiny, the people—who had once considered themselves Rytonians but now considered themselves New Capriciouns—knew they had to match the perfection of their new home. And, of course, the children were always dressed in their best, too, with clean faces and washed, trim hair and socks that matched their shirts—except, that is, when they were playing hide-and-seek in the school playground or starting pick-up games of kermball in the luscious parks dotted throughout the city. At those times, the kids of Harrison were allowed to get a little dirty; after all, having fun and enjoying the outdoors was the best part of every Rytonians’ childhood, back home, years ago, when things were good.

Across the new city, there were various sights that made the people of Harrison feel safe, calm, and at home. Flags emblazoned with a green-and-black, tiger-like beast adorned nearly every window in the city, as a reminder of where they had come from. The freshly constructed billboards in the center of downtown—showing a cheerful, green-skinned man holding up a glass bottle of soda—always made everyone smile, especially when they read its headline: FIZZY COLA: THE TASTE OF THE NEW WORLD. From the very first day the people of Rytonia had been allowed to move to Harrison, a popular, brightly colored poster had seemed to be everywhere: it showed a New Capricioun family sitting down for dinner, with the wonderful city skyline of Harrison outside their window. The red cursive text on the bottom of the poster read:

NEW HOME! NEW WORLD! FINALLY! A PLACE FOR US!

Another poster in Harrison was even more prominent, as this poster was mandated to be hung in every home, place of business, school, and public place in the city. It showed an image of a handsome, young, seventeen-year-old boy with dark hair and dark eyes. He looked very dashing in the photo, dressed in his white suit jacket, white pants, and white tie, and as he looked over the city as a perfect sunrise gleamed on the horizon, he stood with his hands on his hips. This was the city’s leader, a young man named the Daybreaker, and the text underneath his picture displayed the thoughts of every person in Harrison; it read: A PROMISE FULFILLED. This poster in particular always made people feel safe and happy.

In downtown Harrison, near Rytonia Park, teens shared milkshakes in soda shops and danced the night away at the dancehall playing all of the latest hits. In the suburbs on the outskirts of town, mailmen pleasantly delivered letters (and smiles) to waiting housewives (with the mailmen always making sure to step lightly around the pet dogs and one-eyed octopuses, of course.) Everywhere in the city, kids rode their bikes on the sidewalks, men bought the morning newspaper on their way to work, and women cooked hearty, full-course meals for their families. The only reminder of the scary outside world could be seen sporadically on telephone poles throughout the city, but the people knew this reminder was necessary. The poster on the telephone poles was split into four sections, and each section showed a different person’s face: one face was of a dark-skinned elderly man in glasses, one was of a robotic boy, one was of a blue-furred dog in a cowboy hat, and one was of a dead-eyed, scary teenage boy with a mask over the lower part of his face. The text on the poster above the faces read BE VIGILANT!, while the text under the faces read: IF YOU SEE ANY OF THESE INDIVIDUALS, CONTACT THE AUTHORITIES IMMEDIATELY! OUR NEW WORLD DEPENDS ON IT! Sometimes, these posters could lead to frightening thoughts, but luckily, no one had ever seen the faces in the city, and everybody knew they probably never would. The Daybreaker wouldn’t allow dangerous people like that into the city.

In the western section of Harrison, a building once known as the Boston Museum of Fine Arts was now known as the Vincent Harris Remembrance Center, and it was here where the people of the city could spend a day viewing artifacts, memorabilia, and even the personal items of the man who had first started the process of their new world. In the schools around the city, the children were taught by teachers who were trained at the Vincent Harris Remembrance Center, and these teachers were experts at bringing the fascinating, important stories of history to life. A popular lesson was always Vincent’s Valiant Last Stand, in which the students learned about the green-furred, tiger-like hero known as Vincent Harris, and how he gave his life against the evil, twisted villain known as Strike. Vincent had been lost in battle only a few months ago when he was first trying to create New Capricious, as the red-eyed Strike—with his fangs dripping with blood and his claws gripping his electrified bo-staff—had struck him down to stop him from saving the people of Rytonia. It was sad that Vincent was gone, but everyone knew his memory and lessons would always live on, thanks to Rigel, Nova, and the Daybreaker.

And it was in the northern section of the city where the Daybreaker lived, in a wonderful, green, open park once known as the Boston Public Garden. Now, it was known as Trident Gardens, as the three-pointed skyscraper known as the Trident rested here. The young man in charge of the entire city—the young man protecting the capital of New Capricious—resided on the top floor of this magnificent building, where he could stand at his massive, ceiling-high, room-wide window and watch over the city. His name had once been Tobin Lloyd, but that was a long time ago, and he did not like to remember that life anymore, for it all had been taken away from him. He had a new life now, and he knew it was the one