Ashley Jason and the Dragon King: Ashley Jason, #3

By Lucas Flint

No superheroes. No supervillains. Only supers.

 

After the events of the last book, eighteen-year-old Ashley 'Crafter' Jason begins attending the International Superbian Institute for Superhuman Training to complete her third year of schooling. Although the culture shock of visiting a country populated almost entirely by supers is tough, Ashley finds solace in her friend, Barrett Marcus, causing their relationship to deepen in pleasant ways Ashley did not expect.

But life isn't all romance and boys. The kind yet charming President Franklin 'Dragon King' Marcus of Superbia expresses an interest in helping Ashley, although his true intentions for her and the world are far from benevolent. Meanwhile, a rebellion against the ruling super class of Superbia is brewing among the country's oppressed normals, who have hatched a plot to assassinate President Marcus and need Ashley's help to pull it off.

All Ashley wants to do is complete her third year of schooling and go home. But when President Marcus offers her the cure for her incurable genetic disease, can she possibly say no? Or will she join the burgeoning revolution against his rule and find herself in his crosshairs?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Secret Identity Books
• Release date: Jan 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215630280

Lucas Flint

Lucas Flint writes superhero fiction. He is the author of The Superhero’s Son, Minimum Wage Sidekick, The Legacy Superhero, and Capes Online, among others. Find links to books, social media, updates on newest releases, and more by going to his website at www.lucasflint.com

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Monday, August 24th, 1:04 AM, 2037 …

I jerked and looked around. The forest around me was nearly pitch-black. The rustling leaves, caused by a sharp, cold breeze, made me feel like I was surrounded on all sides. A sliver of moonlight peaked in through the treetops above, but it wasn’t nearly enough to let me see my surroundings.

And it wouldn’t protect me from the voice.

I kept walking like I always did whenever I heard the voice. I wanted to run, but couldn’t. Or maybe didn’t want to. Something deep down in my soul told me that running wouldn’t save me from the voice.

I see you.

The voice—slippery, feminine, yet cruel and colder than a corpse—whipped through my ears like a knife. Fear overwhelmed my heart and sweat broke out across every inch of my body.

Abandoning all reason, thought, and logic, I ran through the forest. Leaves crunched under my bare feet, twigs and fallen branches scraped against the soles of my feet, and low-hanging branches and thick bushes cut against my thighs, arms, and belly.

I didn’t remember losing my clothes and only being in my underwear. But then, I didn’t remember a lot of things, like how I got here in the first place. I only knew that this was not the first time I had visited this place and that every visit had always ended the same way.

Harsh, vindictive laughter echoed through the forest. It was as if the trees themselves were laughing at me. Through the slivers of light from the moon above, I saw cruel, vile faces start to appear on the trees. And they all said the same thing:

"I see you."

Oh, God. Oh, God. Please. Please save me.

Without warning, I burst out of the trees and found myself standing at the edge of a cliff. The cliff was impossibly tall. Even with the light from the moon above, the bottom of the cliff was pitch-black. Yet I could hear whispers of creatures below that belonged to no language I’d ever heard. Without being able to even see them, I knew they weren’t human.

Why?

Because they had eaten me before, of course.

Reaching the cliff, I knew exactly what was going to happen next. A rustling of trees behind me and—

The trees rustled behind me. I whirled around, my body quivering with fear. I wish I had clothes on, but I never did. Not that it would have protected me from what was about to happen next.

I see you.

The voice startled me. Instinctively, I backed up and nearly fell over the cliff, catching myself only at the last second. Breathing hard, I didn’t even look over my shoulder. My eyes were fixed on the tree line before me. It was in there. It knew where I was.

And I knew it was going to kill me.

More rustling in the trees, causing me to almost jump again. It was here. Dang it. Why did it have to be here? Why?

But the figure who stepped out from the trees wasn’t it. He was a male teenager clad in a red-and-purple spandex costume. On his chest was an insect design that reminded me of a tick. His eyes peered out from the holes of his mask, confusion etched in them.

Parasite? I said in a low voice. What are you doing here?

Parasite simply blinked. I was going to ask you the same question. You shouldn’t be here.

Without warning, Parasite exploded into gas and smoke. Before I could react to that, however, the voice echoed out from the trees again, this time far hungrier:

"I see you!"

From out of the tree line—just like so many times before—emerged something that looked like a woman, but wasn’t. A black substance—maybe blood, maybe not—dripped from the corners of its mouth as it dragged its body out of the trees. Sagging, torn breasts hung from its chest, barely covered by a black dress that looked like it had been robbed from the corpse of a Victorian woman. Its stringy, white hair looked like dead grass, hanging flat down its head with mud and blood clotted in it.

The creature stank of mud and blood, too, but its eyes were the worst. Huge, white, and pupil-less, its eyes bore into my soul. I froze, staring into the creature’s gaze, feeling my entire body become numb to my mind’s commands.

A long, slimy, purple tongue licked the creature’s decaying lips. "I see you, Ashley Jason."

The second I heard the creature’s voice, I screamed. My scream echoed even louder than the creature’s voice. Fear completely demolished my heart and what little rational thought I had left departed me entirely.

And then I fell over backward and fell to my death, still screaming even as the tentacles of something caught me and brought me into the hot, moist mouth of something I never saw … and the jaws closed tightly around my body.

-

Ashley! Wake up, girl! It’s okay!

My eyes shot open. I sat up so fast I nearly hurled. My heart hammered in my chest, my whole body was drenched in sweat, and I thought for a moment that I saw the creature sitting at the end of my mattress, grinning at me with its fungus-covered, broken teeth.

But then I blinked and the creature was gone. Instead, I found myself looking into the face of a nineteen-year-old black girl, her usually braided hair messy and down. Her eyes were full of concern for me, her lips turned in a worried frown.

C-Cora? I said, breathing in and out hard. What … what happened? Where am I?

Heck if I know, said Cora, though she was trembling slightly herself. You just started screaming all of a sudden. It sounded like you were dying.

I blinked. You mean I didn’t?

You mean I—? Cora shook her head. "Do I look dead to you, girl? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that heaven doesn’t look like my room, which doesn’t even have any streets of gold."

Startled, I looked around at my surroundings, which were illuminated by the lamp on Cora’s bed stand next to her bed.

I was on the floor of Cora’s room, sleeping on her extra mattress at the foot of her bed. The walls of her room were covered in posters of her favorite boy bands, with my eyes lingering on the poster of The Neos—a band composed entirely of superhumans—directly above her bed. Next to that poster, the window was closed, with blue curtains drawn over them, though the bright light from the moon was still visible.

Directly in front of my mattress was the old, creaky wooden door to Cora’s room, upon which hung a full-size mirror. This allowed me to catch a glimpse of my pale, sweaty face. I looked even worse than I thought. My brown hair was completely messed up and my eyes were so big that they scared even me. My pink cat t-shirt was drenched in sweat, while I’d somehow tossed my blankets off my legs, which explained why I felt so cold. The air was cool thanks to the air conditioning, cold enough to even make me shiver.

I gulped. Y-Yeah. No streets of gold.

Cora, who sat at the foot of my mattress in her own white t-shirt with a symbol of The Neos on her chest, leaned toward me with a frown. What happened? Did you have your nightmare again? I’ve never heard you scream that way before.

I shuddered and wrapped my arms around my body in a futile attempt to stay warm. Y-Yes. It was the nightmare again.

Cora’s frown deepened. Deep, dark forest, scary woman-like thing chasing you, and then you falling off a cliff into the mouth of something you can’t even see?

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Yes. You sound like you saw it yourself.

Naw, said Cora with a shake of her head. I only know as much as I do because I’ve spent way too many phone calls listening to you describe it to me. If we weren’t best friends, I wouldn’t even bother.

I nodded shakily. "I know. It’s just … it’s just been so real. If you experienced it yourself, you would get it."

I know, said Cora. She smiled. But on the bright side, it’s just a nightmare. You’re here, in my house, safely on my spare inflatable mattress. No one’s gonna get you here. And if anyone tried, they’d have to go through me first.

I chuckled. Yeah, you’re right. But it wasn’t the normal nightmare.

Cora raised an eyebrow. What do you mean? Was there something different?

Yes, I said, nodding. Parasite appeared at one point and he said ‘You shouldn’t be here.’

Cora’s frown returned, though this time it looked a lot angrier. Parasite? Wasn’t he that crazy guy who tried to kill you and your classmates a couple of years ago?

Is, I corrected. Parasite is still out there. But yes, that’s him.

Cora tilted her head to the other side. Why were you dreaming about him if you haven’t seen him in forever?

I don’t know, I said. And I don’t know why he said that. It’s all so confusing.

Cora nodded. You said it. I wish I could help, but I’m not much of a dream interpreter. They don’t teach that in normal schools.

I chuckled again. Trust me, the Academy doesn’t have a course on that, either. I have no idea why I’ve been having this dream.

Cora poked me in the chest. Yes, you do. It’s that new Super Pill you’ve been taking, the one your professor gave you before you came back home. That’s when you started experiencing this nightmare, right?

Cora was right. Before I left the Academy last year, Professor Dean Hernandez, my Neogenetics professor and an accomplished neogeneticist in his own right, had given me a new and improved Super Pill based on the feedback I’d given him over the last couple of years ago. This version of the Super Pill—an experimental medicine designed to help regulate my Hernandez’s Disease genetic disorder—was only meant to be taken once a week, which was a big improvement from the last version, which needed to be taken once every two days.

But Cora was also right that since I started taking the Super Pill, I’d been having this exact same nightmare over and over again. It was always the same and never changed, which was why I found Parasite’s presence in it weird. And scary.

I nodded reluctantly. Yeah, I guess you’re right. The Super Pill seems to be doing this.

Have you told your professor? said Cora. You’re still keeping in contact with him, right?

I sighed. Yeah. I talk to him via holo-phone once a week. I also email him my weekly reports on how I feel. But I haven’t mentioned the nightmare to him yet.

Why not? asked Cora in a stunned voice. I’m no doctor, but my mom, who is, always says you should contact your doctor if you start experiencing any unintended side effects from medicine. No matter how good it might make you feel.

That was the kicker. The new Super Pill I took not only dulled the pain caused by my condition completely but even made me feel great. It was kind of like taking painkillers, only I wasn’t addicted. That’s what I told myself, anyway. I needed it to survive. You can’t be addicted to something you need, right?

Right?

In any case, Cora’s statement got to the heart of my fear. I didn’t want to tell Professor Hernandez about this in case he decided to make me stop taking it or even revert to an earlier formula.

Now, however, it was starting to look like I was going to have to, especially with the way Cora looked at me.

He doesn’t need to know about it, I said. It’s just a nightmare. People have nightmares all the time. It’s nothing to worry about.

Nothing to worry about? said Cora. "Ash, you’ve been losing too much sleep from this nightmare. It’s freaking you out, messing with your mind. That doesn’t sound like nothing to me."

I bit my lower lip, but once again found myself unable to argue with Cora. Even though I was a bit more intellectual than Cora, she always seemed to win whatever arguments we had, especially ones about my health. Guess there’re benefits to having a nurse as a mom. And studying nursing yourself, as Cora was doing.

First thing tomorrow morning, I want you to call up your professor and tell him about the nightmare, Cora said. Tell him everything you’ve told me. Don’t leave out any details. This is for your health. Got it?

I nodded. Yes, ma’am.

Cora chuckled. No need to call me ‘ma’am.’ I’m the same age as you. Just do it, okay? I’ll even give you some privacy when you do it. Although I might listen in just to make sure you actually tell your prof about the nightmare.

I nodded once again. Okay. I’ll give him a call tomorrow, but not in the morning. We’ve got a call scheduled for tomorrow night at seven. I’ll tell him then.

Cora pursed her lips but nodded. Fine. I suppose that’s acceptable. Do you think you will be able to go back to sleep?

I yawned. Yeah, I think so. I’m not as scared now, but … can you keep your lamp on? Just to be safe?

Cora smiled. Sure thing, Ash. See ya in the morning. Sleep tight.

With that, Cora crawled back into her bed and under her covers. At the same time, I lay back down on my mattress, pulling my blankets up to my chin. Within seconds, I heard Cora’s loud snoring above me as she immediately fell to sleep.

I didn’t, though. No, I spent a few more minutes pondering how I was going to tell Professor Hernandez that I hadn’t been entirely honest with him about the effects of the Super Pill on me since I started taking it. Professor Hernandez was all the way in Washington, D.C., but that didn’t mean it was a smart idea to anger him. I’d seen Professor Hernandez angry before and, I assure you, you wouldn’t like Professor Hernandez when he’s angry.

I also thought about the nightmare itself. In particular, I focused on the scene with Parasite and what he told me.

I suppose it was just another part of the nightmare. Even though it had been a while since I last thought about Parasite, who knew what went on in my subconscious? Maybe my subconscious had been worrying about Parasite a lot lately or something.

But I didn’t think so. Parasite didn’t act like he was just a figment of my imagination.

He acted like he was real.

CHAPTER TWO

Despite my worries about my nightmare, I must have fallen asleep at some point because I did wake up at the sound of Cora’s alarm clock going off. Blearily, Cora and I showered, got dressed, and then headed down to breakfast. Cora did ask me if I had the nightmare again, but I told her I did not. The only nice thing about the nightmare was that I only experienced it once a night. If I woke up and went back to sleep, I didn’t have any other dreams or nightmares for the rest of the night.

We made our way to the kitchen of Cora’s house, following the scent of eggs and bacon. Stepping into the kitchen, it was surprisingly empty, with only Cora’s dad standing at the oven, cooking bacon, eggs, and even waffles. He must have been at it for a while, however, because there was a huge plate of eggs and bacon next to him as he hummed and turned the bacon over in the skillet. The kitchen TV, set at the end of the counter next to the fridge, was on the news. A glance showed me a Central News Network reporter about to interview some politician, but the delicious-smelling breakfast food distracted me from the TV.

Morning, girls, said Cora’s dad, glancing over his shoulder at us and flashing us a friendly smile. You’re up early.

The bacon woke us up, dad, Cora replied as she snatched a piece of bacon off the pile next to the oven and popped it in her mouth. And the eggs. Love the eggs.

Yes, Mr. Bistro, it looks great, I said, glancing at the huge pile of food he had already prepared. But there’s so much to eat.

When you have five kids, you kind of need that much, said Mr. Bistro with a chuckle. Fortunately for you, the youngsters are still asleep. So you two get first dibs on breakfast. Grab a couple of plates and take a seat.

Nodding, Cora and I scooped a lot of eggs and bacon onto our plates. I also grabbed a cup of coffee and the two of us sat down at the Bistro family’s large dining room table. It had a simple white tablecloth with floral designs on it, though the tablecloth was slightly stained and torn in a few places. I didn’t mind, though. Sitting at the table with Cora reminded me of the old days when we were younger and I would spend the night at her house and have breakfast with her and her family. Kind of like now.

So how did you two sleep last night? said Mr. Bistro as he dumped another pan of bacon onto the pile.

Well, Cora said promptly, though Ashley had a nightmare.

Again? Mr. Bistro said, glancing over his shoulder at me. That’s a shame. Hope you didn’t lose too much sleep. Don’t want Kevin to think I’m making you sleep-deprived.

I chuckled. Mr. Bistro, who was a lawyer, and my Dad were old friends. I’d known Mr. Bistro for so long that I practically thought of him as an uncle, even though I wasn’t related to him at all. Frankly, Cora and I were more like cousins than friends, so it was easy for me to see Mr. Bistro as Uncle James.

It’s fine, I said as I sipped my coffee. I’ve had worse. Anyway, what are you doing here this morning? Shouldn’t you be at your law firm now?

Decided to take the day off, said Mr. Bistro as he shut off the stovetop, apparently pleased with the number of eggs he had made. He whirled around, his apron shaking slightly as he said, with a big smile, Today is Cora’s birthday!

I winced and looked at Cora apologetically. Oh, that’s right. I forgot. Sorry, Cora.

No big deal, said Cora with a wave. You had a bad nightmare last night. I know you wouldn’t forget my birthday that easily.

I nodded, even though I still felt pretty guilty. But I didn’t even get you a gift.

Again, no problem, said Cora. Really, I’m fine as long as you’re fine.

You may not have gotten her a gift, but I did, said Mr. Bistro. He pulled out a handful of tickets from his back pocket. Cora, we’re going to see The Neos live in concert next month!

Cora’s jaw dropped. Really? But Neos tickets are practically impossible to get! How—?

Mr. Bistro smirked. Being the lawyer of the stadium where they are going to play their concert comes with certain perks, including free tickets. Soon as I heard that’s where The Neos were playing, I knew I had to get some tickets.

Cora jumped from her chair and hugged Mr. Bistro. You’re the best dad ever! This is gonna be so awesome. I’ve always wanted to go to a Neos concert. It’s my life’s dream. She suddenly let go of Mr. Bistro and looked at him with concern. What about Bart?

Mr. Bistro shook the tickets in her face. "I got three tickets. One for you, one for me, and one for Bart."

Cora squeed again and hugged her dad. Meanwhile, I just shook my head in an amused way and ate another piece of bacon.

‘Bart’ was Bartholomew Henson, who Cora had been dating since right before I went to the Academy. I didn’t know Bart all that well, but it didn’t surprise me that Cora wanted him to come with them. She was totally gaga over Bart and wanted to do pretty much everything with him. He was pretty handsome, but not really my type. I was happy for Cora, though, because she deserved something nice for her birthday. Her dad obviously thought so, too.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Barrett Marcus on the TV. Whipping my head to look at the TV, I was confused as to why Barrett suddenly looked older.

Sitting in a recliner in a studio was a man who looked like an older version of Barrett. Same deep brown skin, brown eyes, and general face, the only difference being the lines on his skin and a scar on his right cheek. He wore a fine dark suit with a striking red tie with dragon designs on it. His hair was shorter than Barrett’s, and the more I looked at him, the more I realized that he wasn’t my Superbian friend at all. There was a reason he looked so much like Barrett, though, and my suspicion was confirmed for me when I looked at the ticker at the bottom of the screen:

HIGHLIGHTS FROM LAST NIGHT’S INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT FRANKLIN PIETRO ‘DRAGON KING’ MARCUS, PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC OF SUPERBIA

Sitting opposite President Marcus was another man I hadn’t seen before. He looked a little older than President Marcus, but that was probably due to his grayer hair. He wore a gray suit and blue tie and looked a lot softer overall than President Marcus. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, but the way he looked at President Marcus made me think he didn’t like him very much.

Oh, it’s the Mark Dane interview from last night, said Mr. Bistro, snapping me out of my thoughts. He had stopped hugging Cora and was looking at the TV with a fond smile. I missed it because I was working so late.

Mark Dane? I said. Who’s that?

Cora rolled her eyes. Only the most bestest awesomest reporter on TV who Dad has a total man crush on.

I do not, Mr. Bistro insisted. Mark Dane is simply one of my favorite Central News Network reporters. His reporting is usually top-notch, but it’s his interviews where he really shines. He’s interviewed tons of people that most reporters can’t. For example, last year he interviewed the supervillain Tsunami from his Ultimate Max prison cell, the first interview Tsunami gave in ten years.

I looked at the TV again and frowned. So he interviewed President Marcus last night?

Yeah, Mr. Bistro said. He picked up the remote from the table and pressed a couple of buttons. Here, let me start it from the beginning. I was just watching the interview when you two walked in, so I only need to rewind a few minutes.

The video rewound to the beginning and started playing. Important-sounding classical music blared from the TV as a voice off-screen said, Central News Network welcomes viewers to another fascinating Mark Dane interview. In this interview, Mark Dane interviews President Franklin ‘Dragon King’ Marcus, the founder and president of the Republic of Superbia, on life, politics, relations between normals and supers, superhuman rights, and more.

The camera panned to show President Marcus and Dane sitting in the same positions as before. President Marcus sat back, looking quite relaxed, while Dane was leaning forward slightly as if trying to make sure President Marcus didn’t get away. It seemed weirdly hostile for some reason as if Dane had some sort of grudge against him.

President Marcus, said Dane, apparently skipping all formalities and introductions, it’s wonderful to have you here at the studio. I know you are a very busy man, being the leader of the world’s only superhuman nation and all. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to speak with me.

President Marcus flashed Dane a very white smile. It is of no consequence, Mr. Dane. Your interviews are some of the only American news shows I regularly watch. Thus, when my assistant received your email interview request, I, of course, had to accept it.

Good, good, said Dane with a nod. Yes, we’ve very excited to have you here. I’ve wanted to interview you for a long time, so this is exciting for me as well.

President Marcus sipped his tiny bottled water. Then you may proceed with the questions.

Certainly, said Dane. As you know, to us ‘normals,’ Superbia is a fascinating and even exotic place. Whereas nearly every country in the world has some supers, Superbia is the only true superhuman nation, the first of its kind. What sort of challenges do you face as you lead an entire country of superheroes?

President Marcus laughed. Please. We are not a country of ‘superheroes.’ That is a false understanding of Superbia. As we say in Superbia, there are no superheroes or supervillains. We are all simply super.

Do you mean to say that you don’t have crime? asked Dane in surprise. I only ask because your country is very tight about what information is let out into the world. Some might even say too tight. What do you have to say about that?

I frowned. Dane had struck me as being too polite, but it seemed like he was more on the ball than he looked. I already knew about Superbia not having superheroes or villains, though. Barrett had told me that on my first day at the Academy. In fact, he’d even used those exact words. Perhaps it was a popular saying in Superbia.

President Marcus lowered his bottled water onto the table next to his chair. Unfortunately, we do, indeed, have crime in Superbia. It is mostly normals, however, committing crimes, especially normals who do not have jobs or refuse to integrate with the wider society. While we do have some super criminals, they make up a very small percentage of the overall criminal population in our country, less than ten percent based on the latest research from the Institute.

So Superbia does have normal citizens after all? said Dane, scratching his chin. "That’s intriguing. The popular, if inaccurate, perception is that only supers can become Superbian citizens, perhaps not helped by the fact that you have a law which allows supers from any country to come to Superbia and claim citizenship."

President Marcus’ brow furrowed. That is a bald-faced lie. While Superbia does indeed allow supers from any country to immigrate, we do allow normals to immigrate to our country and live, work, marry, vote, and have access to all the same rights, responsibilities, and privileges that all Superbian citizens are guaranteed by our constitution. Normals who wish to immigrate to Superbia need only understand that Superbia was built for supers and thus they will need to change themselves to fit in with our nation’s norms and laws, like any other country on the planet.

Was it me, or did President Marcus seem a little defensive about that question? Barrett always acted like he had never spent much time with normals, but maybe they were such a tiny minority in Superbia that he had never met one. It was interesting nonetheless, his dad’s defensiveness notwithstanding.

Good to hear, said Dane. Yes, there are lots of rumors and misconceptions about your country swirling around in the wider world. Perhaps if you spent more time reaching out to the world and allowing travel into the country, you might—

That is unnecessary, said President Marcus, cutting off Dane without hesitation or even seeming rude. He steepled his fingers together. As the President of Superbia, the safety of my people comes first. Were I to allow anyone to enter Superbia, it would endanger my citizens, many of whom come from countries, like China, Venezuela, and North Korea, where supers are harshly discriminated against or even outright oppressed. Heavy travel restrictions are necessary to ensure the safety of my nation and its people.

I get that, said Dane, but that has led to the perception that Superbia is an insular nation unconcerned with the affairs of the world and even indifferent to the challenges facing the planet today. Some would even say it makes you look unfriendly.

President Marcus’ eyes flashed red for a moment, but then they went back to their normal color. You know that is false, Mr. Dane. I’ve spent most of my political career supporting superhuman rights not just in Superbia, but all over the world. Superbian students regularly attend superhuman schools in other countries. My own son, Barrett, is currently attending the Theodore Jason Academy for Young Superhumans right here in the US. My government agents regularly work with America’s G-Men, Britain’s MI20, and the superhuman-oriented government agencies from other countries on security issues. As well, I have personally donated millions of dollars to various superhuman charities and organizations all over the world. Superbia is far from indifferent about the world’s problems.

I smiled slightly when President Marcus mentioned Barrett. I did wonder what Barrett was doing now, though. He had gone back to Superbia for the summer and I hadn’t spoken to him since. Guess I’d find out in a couple of weeks when I went to Superbia myself.

Yes, I am aware of all of that, said Dane. "But some say that you only care about supers and even hate normals."

Another false accusation, said President Marcus without missing a beat. If I am overly concerned with the plight of oppressed super brothers and sisters around the world, it’s only because the rest of the world is not. Were the other normal nations to care for their super citizens as much as their normals, perhaps Superbia would not even be needed. The Guardians of Humanity alone prove why Superbia’s travel restrictions are not only necessary but even moral.

President Marcus made a good argument. Especially about the Guardians of Humanity, who I had way too much interaction with last year.

Dane, however, frowned, looking like he had been knocked off-balance. Well, I see where you’re coming from, but—

But I am not overly critical of all normal governments, President Marcus continued as if Dane hadn’t said a word. I was thrilled to hear that you elected Karen Parker as your president, the first super President of the United States if I am not mistaken. President Parker has done an excellent job prioritizing superhuman rights in her administration and has shown a willingness to work alongside the Superbia government to fight for superhuman rights worldwide. I look forward to many productive years of working with President Parker on these important issues facing both of our countries.

Dane opened his mouth to say something, but then the TV suddenly shut