Interrogation RPS-121389-091470

Author's Note:
One of my favorite things to do is take a story I've created, and then imagine if the premise were completely different. I think it's fitting that this story is number three in this collection. I hope you all enjoy it, it took a lot of time to finish.

I was groggy and tired, so I wasn't in the mood for another one of Walter's sneers. Each time I had to travel through his checkpoint, he found some way to ruin my entire day with a single disapproving glare. I wasn't sure if it was because I was Black, trans or both. I knew it couldn't have been because my dad secured a job in the Records department for me, because I knew for a fact that Walter made significantly more money blocking people from their own offices than I ever would typing up supervillain speeches. It was either the brown skin, or the Transgender classification on my ONEID, but for whatever reason, that man could not stand my guts.

I took the green card from my pocket and held it up as I passed by the window of his security booth, my face turned away from him. I was surprised when I saw the orange and white partition bar was still lowered, considering that he usually just growled and raised the partition whenever I just flashed my ID and kept walking.

I gave him a confused look. Did he expect me to trip and fall over it? Would he find that funny or even appropriate? I couldn't tell what game Walter was playing, but I knew I didn't like it.

"Just wanted to let you know," he began, "that Director Sigourney wants to see you."

My eyes grew three sizes as I stuttered, "S-Sigourney? Director Sigourney? Director of National Security Affairs Sigourney wants to see me? Why?"

"Do I look like your message boy!"

"You-You literally just gave me a message. So..."

His face turned red, then a green light flashed out the corner of my eye. I turned away from him and walked through the raised barrier. I'm a bit ashamed to admit that I walked a bit faster than I usually would have, paranoid that his compliance was some kind of trick and he'd try and drop it on top of my head when I least expected it. Luckily for Walter, it wasn't a trick.

As I entered the elevator on the opposite side of the corridor, I couldn't help but wonder why the hell someone as important as Director Sigourney was interested in me, a barely-paid intern? I tried to think back through the past month, paranoid that I might have violated some major rule that would make me a threat to national security. But I couldn't think of anything, and that only made me more terrified about what she'd have to say.

Director Sigourney was friends with my dad for multiple years, but I'd never actually seen her in person or even talked to her. I didn't even know that she knew I was working in the Aberrant Affairs Division. I was a low-level runt in the Department of Records who barely saw the light of day from my workspace in the sub-sub-basement. Director Sigourney was one of the most important women that worked here. She had one of the only three penthouse offices in the entire building for gods' sake!

My anxiety rose with the rest of my body while I rode the elevator up to the thirty-third floor. But when I actually made it to the front door of her office, it shot into the air like a bullet, did a loop-de-loop, and disappeared into the clouds. I stared at the large, silver block letters embossed on the frosted glass door for what felt like an hour.

"Director S. Sigourney," it read in its menacing font. Each letter was thick with points so sharp I felt as though my eyes were being cut by reading them.

I thought of walking away and pretending Walter never gave me the message in the first place. But before I could, the door to the office suddenly opened.

Director Sigourney was a giant of a woman. Her rectangular face and firm jaw were terrifying but would have been much less intimidating had it not been her perpetually firm and cruel eyes. From the grey, pinstripe pantsuit she wore, it was impossible to see her muscles, but I'd seen enough pictures and videos of her in action to know they were there.

Surprisingly, though, she didn't hold her intimidating posture for long. As soon as she looked down and saw who was at her door, a wide grin spread across her face.

"Zaraz! How are you? Are you enjoying your job in Records? How's Dr. MacGuffin?"

She disoriented me with her questions. The one about Dr. MacGuffin, who retired three years before I even started working, was the most confusing. Was she really so far removed from us lowly pencil pushers? And if she was, why was she acting like she even remotely cared about me.

"Hello, Director Sigourney. I'm fine. I am enjoying my job. And...still retired."

There was the smallest, quickest sign of a grimace on her face. She quickly turned it back into a polite, friendly smile as she continued, "Of course, how could I forget?" She made one of those fake white girl laughs that usually precluded something pushy.

"So why did you want to see me?" I asked her. I immediately kicked myself for it. My tone wasn't curt, but it also wasn't super cutesy and happy like hers. If she wasn't friends with my dad, I'd probably be fired for it. Shit, even though she is friends with my dad I could still be fired for it.

"Straight to the point," she said, "I like it. Your father taught you well. In you, I can see his training for this field. You're respectful, but direct, just as any good agent should be. I take it you've also been trained in the significance of confidentiality?"

I tried to hide my wariness, "I understand that the work we do here is important to the maintenance of peace. Loose lips and shit."

Director Sigourney nodded, "Precisely! You understand. That's good. I need someone who understands that for this assignment."

I thought back to something my dad told me before. About how he first got caught up with AAD back when it was still a covert operation after he was approached by a superior during his internship at the Pentagon. Internships were often a good way to find out who'd be a decent agent, he told me. Interns had to go through background checks before being hired, and while on the job they could be observed and sussed out as a potential risk or asset. I never thought I'd be tapped as an agent, but it looked then like my job might actually become interesting.

"What's the assignment?" I asked with a bit more glee than I wanted to convey.

Director Sigourney walked me over to her desk. Sitting in her chair, she reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, black box.

"What do you know about King Soul," she asked.

I shrugged, "He's a superhero. Leader of the High Guard. Has...three Nobel Peace Prizes?"

I knew a lot more than I let on, of course. It was fucking King Soul, the most popular superhero in the entire world! Granted, he didn't have the coolest powers, only telekinesis, super-senses, and super-strength. And his costume was pretty basic, just a red t-shirt with a green cape and gold crown embossed onto both. He seemed like a generic hero on the surface, but he had an inexplicable magnetic pull. He was bold and confident in his strength, ready to take on any villain or monster no matter how big. But he was also a humble person that didn't try to lord his powers over everyone. You were more likely to see him walking through town than flying in the air.

"He's the most trusted individual in the entire world, and I can say that with complete confidence," Director Sigourney began, "that's part of why this case is so sensitive. You see, there are certain...claims about King Soul's past that the super-criminal in question made during his interrogation."

I nodded, but I was confused still. Everyone knew that King Soul used to be a homeless wanderer until he underwent a mystical revelation. After years of meditation, he cleansed his heart of all evil and unlocked powers long hidden-away from humanity. Was Director Sigourney saying that wasn't true?

"How much do you know about the villain, Regicide?"

That was another name that I both knew and revered a lot more than I cared to admit. Despite what the less accurate conservative news reported, there were very few Black supervillains. Regicide was basically the only one. Super criminals, sure, but not supervillains. Currently, there were only three active in the US other than Regicide, but they were largely small-time villains that were contained to the major cities, but never really branched out.

Few Black men declared war against superheroes, wore extravagant costumes, and planned highly methodological schemes. Most Black supercriminals were super criminals of opportunity; they had powers, but they also suffered under poverty, and so they used their powers to escape. But Regicide wasn't like the pyrokinetics that robbed banks or started gangs, Regicide was a real villain, and a cool one at that.

Like all the best supervillains, it was hard to consider Regicide as really evil when compared to people like Alabaster, the mutated white supremacist that tried to drown Haiti. The worst thing Regicide ever did was kidnap people to try to get King Soul's attention. In fact, there were a few times that he'd used his powers to help the High Guard defeat major, world-ending threats (or sometimes, any villain he had a personal beef with).

The only thing that really made him a supervillain was the seemingly eternal beef he and King Soul got into. Almost every other month, the two had a giant clash in which one would almost die. Neither ever did, either because one of King Soul's allies from the High Guard would swoop in to save their leader, or because Regicide would escape before King Soul could manage to capture him. The videos always got a million views on Youtube.

"I know that he's a maniac that's sworn himself to kill King Soul, hence the name," I began, "I believe the rumors that Regicide is around my age, even though there's never been any conclusive evidence of that. He's a natural psychic, current estimates put him at level ten. And I know he's a self-taught wizard who likes to steal magical tomes from other magic users like Nurse Unusual."

Director Sigourney nodded, "Good, you know enough. Regicide recently tried to kill King Soul again, but this time the entire High Guard came out in full force to help King Soul take him in."

That didn't sound right to me. Even in the few situations when High Guard members helped King Soul, eyewitness testimony stated that the hero was too proud to accept help. I remembered an interview he'd had with Oprah a while back when he confessed that he was determined to bring Regicide to justice himself. He said that it only felt right, considering that the only reason Regicide was a risk was because of the young supervillain's unnatural obsession with him. I agreed, but I didn't think it meant he had to fight him alone. I think the rest of the world shared my sentiment.

Out of all the supervillains in the world, Regicide was the only one that could kill King Soul, and no one wanted to see the world's greatest hero die. I was glad that the High Guard stepped in, but King Soul letting them help didn't make sense. It was too out of character.

Director Sigourney explained further "Regicide was carrying out a plan to finally finish off King Soul for good. There was a data breach two weeks ago of both the AAD's and the High Guard's systems. When we connected his cyberattack with the rumors that he found and stole the Kidney Stone of Beelzebub III, we realized that he had become more dangerous than ever. Regicide has become a world-level threat, and after some arguing, we were able to convince King Soul of that."

"So then how was he captured?" I asked.

She didn't speak for a moment. Director Sigourney turned away from me and looked out of her window, staring at the grey clouds above us. A strained, tired look appeared on her face, and I realized immediately the severity of its implication. Director Sigourney was the hardest, most devoted patriot I'd ever known. For her to regret any action that prevented a world-level threat—I didn't even want to think about the implication.

Director Sigourney arose from her chair and began to walk away from the desk, "I need a minute, and you need to be alone to record this anyway. That's the assignment. Transcribe the confession in pristine conditions. When you're done, the original file will be destroyed, and you are to never speak of this to anyone. Understand?"

I nodded, but I really wanted to say no. My heart was fluttering deep inside my chest. I'd had classified interrogations and monologues to transcribe before, but never anything that required anything like what she described. Director Sigourney's office was one of the most secure locations in the country, so having to work there made enough sense. But not having her in the office didn't. She would have been at the interrogation in the first place, so why couldn't she be around while I transcribed it? And why did the original have to be destroyed? Basic archivist rules stated you never destroy the original!

"It's above your paygrade, kid," I reminded myself as I opened the box and got started. Inside was a small screen, a notepad, and a ballpoint pen. I turned on the first while I grabbed the second two and began another boring workday.

A blue screen appeared with the date of the interrogation: December 13, 2089. The date gave way to an interior shot of the interrogation room. Regicide was seated on one side of a table while Director Sigourney and Kandor, a member of the High Guard that specialized in advanced interrogation tactics, sat on the other side.

It was weird seeing Regicide like that; no staff, not floating, no signature black hoodie. But what was even stranger was the fact that they allowed him to wear his mask during the interrogation. The black, obsidian-fusion lens glinted in the light, teasing me with the thought of peering past and finally discovering Regicide's greatest secret.

For some time, I was so transfixed by the mask and the secrets it hid that I nearly forgot that I was supposed to be working. I rewound the video and started again.

"State your name for the record, please," Director Sigourney said in a curt, firm voice.

Regicide giggled, "My name is Sally Saltwater. I'm the prettiest little girl in all of Shoreside Middle School. Would you like to buy my seashells?"

Kandor's eyes began to glow, and Regicide's head jerked backwards as though an invisible man had just yanked him by the hair.

"I will ask you again for your name." Director Sigourney cast him a scornful eye that fit her reputation more than the warm smiles she'd just given me.

"You know my name," Regicide responded, snidely.

"Your real name," Kandor urged.

Regicide shook his head. "My only name is Regicide!"

It didn't seem too weird that Regicide was so averse to being called anything else.  A lot of supervillains had trauma associated with their legal names. That's why they became villains, it was just a long, complex dissociation.

"I don't think that's true," Director Sigourney said with a cruel smirk. She already knew the answer, and she didn't need it for the record. Director Sigourney knew that by saying his real name, Regicide would be broken and the rest of the interrogation would go her way.

Regicide took a deep breath beneath his mask, "Now my name is Sally Sigourney. I'm the bossiest bitch on the Fort Wadsworth base. My mommy is addicted to pills and my daddy is fucking his superior officer, my aunt Linda."

Director Sigourney scowled and turned to Kandor, expectantly.

"I-I don't understand it, ma'am," the hero anxiously stammered. Her eyes were wide in shock, darting back and for the between the Director and their prisoner.

"Now I'm Kandor," Regicide began, "I'm a superhero that specializes in Truth Magic. But I don't understand what Truth is because my magic isn't really mine. I stole it from my mother who wanted to train my crack-addicted brother. I still think that Truth and Reality are the same things, and both are rigid."

Director Sigourney threw up both hands as if conceding to him, "You're right. We don't understand the truth. But you do, don't you? This whole charade you just put on proves it. You like telling the shocking, jarring truth to people that you don't think want to hear it. But we do want to hear it. That is all that we want from you, Mr. Seed."

"Don't say that name!"

The Director raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "I thought you said your name was Regicide? Isn't that the truth, that you're Regicide and not Patrick Seed? You're not from Missouri? You didn't run away from home at fifteen?"

"You're trying to piss me off and it isn't working," he lied.

The Director scowled, but then she sighed and shrugged. "What's the point of this game, Patrick? You try to piss me off then I try to piss you off, and neither of us gets anywhere. Just tell us who you are and we can put an end to all of this and move on without any unpleasantness. You know that there's another way we can confirm your identity, and I don't think you want that."

The villain instinctively reached for his face, holding a single hand there firmly while he began to nervously rock back and forth. "You've already seen it," he trailed off.

The Director nodded, "Yes, I have already seen your face, but that isn't enough. It's not documented. Procedures say that I have to remove your mask and take a picture of your face—"

"No!"

"But," she continued, "I don't want to do that. I understand that your mask is important to you, and that's why I need you to give a statement instead."

Regicide remained silent.

"Without the sarcastic, humor-deflecting bullshit," the Director warned.

The supervillain glanced out of the one-way mirror, staring off into space and ignoring the two women. I saw the Director's lips clench tightly, prompting Kandor to turn to her boss with a concerned expression on her face. It did appear as though Director Sigourney was losing her patience and was about to attack the prisoner. Her body trembled in furious rage the entire time that Regicide stared at his own reflection.

Just as the Director opened her mouth, he spoke.

"Why am I here?"

Director Sigourney quickly regained her composure, but I could still detect a twinge of frustration in her voice, "You're here because you've been determined a threat to the world's safety. The Psychic-Inhibitors in this room and the protective charms built into the walls ensure that you can't go on another rampage."

Regicide shook his head, "No, that isn't right. Why am I in an observable interrogation room in the first place? Who's over there? And why are they allowed to watch this, but not whoever looks at three of the four cameras in this room, which have all been turned off?"

Director Sigourney didn't comment, so Kandor did. "Who is and isn't monitoring your interrogation is none of your business, Seed."

"You're a high-ranking member of the government, Sigourney," he continued while he ignored Kandor, still staring at the mirror.

"I can get why you're here, Director. Kandor is just a costumed dog of the state, but a dog of the state with a very tight leash, due to all the secrets she knows. It's obvious you don't want my statement getting to anyone other than very important people, and I don't blame you. The matters surrounding my birth could cause chaos if brought to the public sphere, which is why I was more focused on killing King Soul than exposing him. But that still begs the question, why aren't you interrogating me in a proper cell, with the camera turned off? Why am I in an interrogation room with a one-way mirror and a working camera?"

Regicide rose from his chair. Sigourney barked at him to sit down while she reached for the Concussion Gun at her side. Regicide simply turned briefly to her, then waved a dismissive hand.

Regicide reached one of his sinewy, piceous hands towards the mirror and stared for a moment with his hand touching the glass. "I think there's someone on the other side of this."

"Sit down," the Director screeched.

Kandor stood up and activated the plasma sword at her side. A wave of magenta light illuminated the room, making every dark surface appear darker while everything white began to glow. With his black clothes and his long, dark hands, Regicide appeared even more sinister while he playfully traced a circle into the glass with his perfectly manicured nails.

"Whoever that someone is, they must be important, or else they wouldn't be allowed to sit in. But if all the important people that need to know are on the other side of this window, then why is this interview still being recorded?"

"Last chance," the director warned.

"Maybe it's blackmail," Regicide asked to no one in particular. "Could it be that you're using the recording of this interview if certain parties prove too difficult...too volatile to manage? That would make sense, I'll admit. After this all gets buried, you'll need some type of concrete evidence for a rainy day. But only one copy, so only one camera, which probably uploads directly to Sigourney's private servers exclusively, or in addition to the private servers of every other very important person that needs to know this secret."

Regicide tapped lightly on the mirror and leaned even closer towards it, the glass surfaces of the two objects so close to connecting but failing to.

"What do you think? Did I get it right, dad?"

The Director fired off her weapon. Regicide's body flew three feet in the air from the concussive shockwave's blast. He landed on the floor headfirst, with so audible a 'clink' that I found myself certain that his helmet must have broken. I was shocked when he raised his head, showing that no crack or blemish had formed.

"Isn't that enough," Kandor asked the Director, the latter of whom shook her head.

"Of course it isn't enough! King Soul isn't behind the mirror!"

She said it so convincingly, but I still felt like it was a lie. That felt important, but I thought it best not to mention it in the record.

The Director walked over to Regicide, still dazed by the attack and lacking the supernatural powers that usually allowed him a speedier recovery from such a common weapon.

"Get up!" She screamed as she lifted him by the shirt, not giving him a chance to comply. She slammed his body on the table and reached behind his neck.

"No! No!" The supervillain screamed. His voice cracked and vibrated with such intensity that it made me jump. I'd always heard he was a True Face, a villain or hero with a pathological fear of being unmasked, but I still felt rattled. He was screaming as though removing the helmet would kill him.

"Then stop fucking around with us!" The Director screamed.

Kandor de-luminated her laser sword.

The Director released Regicide by throwing him into the chair. He struggled to regain his balance, nearly falling from the force of the throw. His head hung dejectedly while he sat silently. Director Sigourney smoothed out her suit and reclaimed her seat across from him.

"Are you Patrick Seed," she asked.

He nodded.

"We need a verbal answer," Kandor said.

"Yes," Regicide annoyingly forced out.

The Director smiled, "Glad to see you're cooperating. Next question, are you the son of Wilma Taraminza Seed?"

"That's a complicated question," Regicide quipped with a newly invigorated comedic cadence.

The Director scowled.

"No, really, it is," he began as he leaned back in his chair, "Patrick Seed did come out of her womb in the Maternity ward of Michelle Obama Memorial. But I think if you were to call her up and ask if I were her son...I honestly can't be sure how she'd answer. We have a complicated relationship, to say the least."

Kandor's eyes narrowed as though she was unsatisfied with his answer and wanted to ask more. The Director held up a hand to shush her, then leafed through the file in her hand.

"There's no father listed on your birth certificate," she observed.

Regicide nodded, "They didn't think it was proper to list him, so they didn't. That's why both my names come from my mom's side. The first Patrick Seed was her grandfather."

The Director raised an eyebrow, "Really? Why him specifically?"

It was an interrogation tactic, obviously, she only cared to keep him talking for as long as possible. It would make him more likely to provide them with information, even if he wasn't immediately aware of it, and it could help create a familiarity between him and the Director that would make him want to be more forthcoming. I'm sure Regicide could tell what she was doing, but he chose to answer anyway.

"My great grandfather was, I'm told, a very honorable and respectable man. They wanted me to be the same. I disappointed them by being an unregistered non-binary hellbent on killing the most beloved man in the world."

He spat out the word 'beloved' with such intense disgust that I found myself growing angry. I'd always thought Regicide was cool, but to hear him suggest King Soul didn't deserve the world's trust pissed me off. No one had ever been able to get a definitive number of how many people the hero had saved, or how many people he inspired every day. My dad told me that when he was a kid, elders would tell so many of his generation to become these superhuman, respectable Negroes that would single-handedly save our race from the stereotypes that haunted us. And the only person to ever even come close was to that ideal was King Soul. People didn't tell me, growing up, to be like Obama or Martin Luther King Jr. or Mandela, it was ALWAYS "Grow up to be like King Soul."

Regicide was always my favorite supervillain, but at that moment, he seemed like any other whinny nut. That said, I could still tell that he didn't deserve to be handled like that by Director Sigourney. Even crazy, unregistered transtrenders had some rights.

"But really," he continued, "I disappointed them long before I ever went after Saint Soul."

The Director tried changing the subject, "So you're mad at King Soul for having a child out of wedlock and hiding you away?"

Regicide giggled but didn't answer her question. Kandor decided it was best to change the subject again. "How old were you when you first met your father?"

Regicide sat still and silent for a moment. "The memory is clear," he began, "but I'm not sure how old I was when it happened. There was this big charity event, and King Soul was going to make an appearance. Every kid wanted to go, and I did too. He was my favorite superhero, after all.

"So I went, my mother drove me, and I remember being in a big auditorium, standing in a line with a bunch of other children. The entire High Guard—which at the time was only five people—walked up to us and shook all of our hands. They signed autographs for some. I felt like an idiot for not bringing my King Soul hat for him to sign. By school on Monday, everyone had something signed by King Soul but me."

Kandor nodded, "That must have been hard. Did you know he was your father at the time?"

Regicide shook his head, "I did, but I didn't really understand it. I was too young at the time. Back then, I didn't see him any differently than any other kid my age."

"Who else knew?" The Director asked.

"My whole immediate family knew. My mom and her mom, my siblings. I think my uncle knew, but he never let on." The young supervillain giggled, "I remember one time I accidentally broke one of his model classic cars, a red 2015 Rav-4. He got mad and started cursing and he called me a little bastard. My mom flipped and started screaming at him. Another thing I was too young and stupid to understand."

"You didn't know what the word meant, or you didn't know why she was screaming?" Kandor asked for clarification.

"I didn't know that I was worse than a bastard!" He snapped.

Again, Kandor opened her mouth as though she was about to ask more, but the Director held up a hand to stop her.

"And once you understood that," the Director said, "how did that make you feel?"

Regicide's face was poised on her for a moment, as though he couldn't figure out why she'd ask that question.

"Did you feel anything," she asked, "were you distressed? Upset? It would be understandable if you were."

"I wasn't upset, I didn't feel much of anything," Regicide answered. "By then, I stopped feeling things. I figured that's what they wanted. On the rare instances I was angry, they'd punish me harsher than any of my other siblings. Emoting wasn't safe for me, so I stopped. I didn't realize that being unable to connect with me emotionally would make them more afraid of me."

The Director nodded, "and when your powers started to manifest, that made it all worse, didn't it?"

He nodded. But he didn't expand on the thought.

"I see," the Director began as she started to scribble onto a notepad, "it must have been an extremely difficult time for you. Your entire family's terrified of your powers, and your father isn't there to help you understand them. Meanwhile, the rest of the world praises him as this excellent, upstanding moral figure when he doesn't even acknowledge you as his son."

Another pause. This one lasted for nearly two minutes. Kandor and the Director kept looking at each other, neither sure how or if it were even possible to get Regicide talking again. I shuddered at the thought of them turning to torture again and said a silent prayer that it wouldn't come to that.

Then, the villain began to laugh. It was one of those wild, maniacal villain laughs that came out in broken "ha-has" that only grew higher and harsher as it went on. All my time studying villains told me such laughs were usually fake theatrics, but at that moment it felt real. Through laughing, Regicide was telling them—telling the whole world how he saw the entire situation. To him, it was all a cosmic joke that only he managed to decipher. And from the harsh sharpness of his voice, I could tell that being the only person that saw the cruel humor only made him angry.

Regicide's head snapped to the side again as he stared at the window, into his own reflection, "You didn't tell them, did you? Or maybe you did and they want me to help them maintain your lie?"

The Director looked as though she were about to bark at him again, but he turned back to face her before she could.

"Listen, lady," he began, "this isn't some G-rated bullshit. I'm not the way I am because I was staying up all night waiting for daddy to take me on a fucking fishing trip. He wasn't around, and I didn't want him around!"

Director Sigourney paused and thought for a moment. I could see the mental gears turning in her head from the way she pressed her lips firmly together while her eyes darted around the room, scanning for nothing in particular. I noticed her eyes flicker open wider, as a small gasp entered her mouth. She tried to hide this expression immediately after realizing how well-telegraphed her emotions were, but by then it was too late.

Kandor spoke before Sigourney could manage to find her voice, "Regicide, you said before that you were worse than a bastard. You also mentioned that your mother's family didn't think it proper to list your father on your birth certificate. Please clarify. What exactly was the relationship between your mother and King Soul?"

Though I couldn't see through the black glass of his lens, I could tell from the way that his body trembled that he was probably avoiding eye-contact with her. She'd struck a nerve and forced him into a corner.

I realized then what the obvious answer was and became aware of how hard he'd fought not to say the actual words throughout the entire interrogation. I didn't want to believe it, of course. I told myself, just as Kandor and Director Sigourney were probably doing at that moment, that it had to be a lie.

King Soul was a moral paragon in our society. He was basically a messiah to so many of us. There was no way that he could rape a woman!

Regicide's mother had to have lied to him, I thought. I certainly didn't have any information on her. Maybe she was some crazy bitch that got mad about being abandoned by her child's father, and to legitimize her hatred of him, she told him—told everyone a lie. It had to make sense.

I immediately dismissed those thoughts, astounded that I was so readily willing to disbelieve a woman over a man despite not having any real evidence to refute her.

Then I realized I wasn't disbelieving a woman over a man, I was disbelieving Regicide's claims that there was a woman to believe. I wasn't sure if that semantic detail made the situation better or worse. I wasn't sure.

I found myself pausing the video so I could re-center my thoughts. Taking in deep breaths, I struggled to disconnect emotionally from the interrogation and just continue documenting it.

"They hated for some time," Regicide began after I finally started the video up again. "I'm not sure how long. She told me that he used to hit her. She told me that he'd raped her before. That when he found out she was pregnant with me, he threatened to beat her until I died inside of her. It wasn't hard to figure out that I probably wasn't conceived consensually."

There was no bitterness or sarcasm in his tone. It was rather flat the entire time he spoke. It made it seem as if he didn't care, but I knew that wasn't true. His voice went flat because that was the only way he could get it out.

"You understand, of course, why it is I have trouble believing you?" Director Sigourney asked. She was lying. I wasn't sure how I knew, but I did. Sigourney believed him but was trying to save face.

"Because he's King Soul. He's the great superhero that went on a spiritual pilgrimage and realized it was his mission to spread love and peace and all that jazz," Regicide said with a dismissive wave of his arm.

Taking his other hand, Regicide poised a middle finger right at the window, certain that his father was standing on the other side, he continued, "Yeah, that's bullshit and we both know it."

"While I must admit, I question the idea that there is such a thing as universal absolute goodness," Kandor began, "I've worked with King Soul. His actions arise from an honest desire to help people. That includes the countless numbers of battered women and sexual assault victims he's saved and protected while they testified against their abusers. There's no doubt in my mind that the man I know would never do what you've described."

Nodding, Regicide asked, "So do you think I'm lying?"

The hero hesitated before she spoke. "I—I think...I think that you've already shown that you can circumvent my lie detection abilities by wholeheartedly believing your own fantasies."

Regicide said nothing but suggestively angled his head.

"I suppose at the most, I could believe that before going on his spiritual journey, King Soul was a radically different person," she finally conceded.

"I could be inclined to believe it too," Director Sigourney chimed in, "but that's the point isn't it, Patrick? He was a different person that's earned forgiveness many times over for any past sins."

Regicide groaned as he shifted his body away from her. The Director didn't seem phased, however, and continued her thought.

"You said your own mother drove you to meet him, didn't you? I won't say that doesn't sound like the actions of a woman who was raped. Having a child can complicate things, so I could see any woman doing that. But it doesn't sound like the actions of one that still holds any contempt towards the man that did it. I find it hard to believe that your mother would condone this desire for vengeance and all the damage you've caused."

Regicide pointed a finger to Director Sigourney while nodding his head vigorously, "Precisely! She doesn't condone it! She doesn't love King Soul, but she doesn't hate him either."

His statements confused me, and from the look that the Director and Kandor shared, I could tell they were also baffled by his words.

"She hates shiftless wanderer, Robert Moore. But Robert Moore died so King Soul could be born, and she can't very well hate King Soul, can she? King Soul's the world's hero. King Soul is the perfect Black man. King Soul is everything my namesake wanted us to be!"

The supervillain was speaking with more vigor now. His words were faster, volume raised, and his hands moved to punctuate nearly every word. If this were a normal conversation, I'd assume he was just talking about his favorite topics, like sports or a t.v. show. The passion he showed wasn't the same type that most other villains had when discussing their plans. Perhaps it was the subject matter at hand, but I found myself more repelled by his words than any other villain monologue I'd had to transcribe.

Yet I couldn't bring myself to say that he was wrong. King Soul was revered the world over, a fact that I never questioned because it seemed obvious. He was a hero, after all, people revering heroes was just natural.

"But I'm not King Soul's child, I'm Robert Moore's child. Don't you get it? She can't hate King Soul. No one can. But she can hate me. Because in her mind, I haven't done shit to prove that I'm any different from the man who created me."

"So that's what this is," Kandor cut in, "your way of proving to your family that you're a good person?"

Regicide shook his head, "I'm not a good person. I'm thinking of killing you right now, and that makes me happy. Isn't that fucked up? And that's been my life for as long as I can remember. My problem is that I'm crazy. When I'm sad, I get crazy. When I'm happy, I get crazy. When I'm frustrated, I get crazy. When I'm not feeling anything at all, I'm still crazy! I'm a demon because of Moore, but the difference between us is that I have limits and values that he doesn't share. I don't seek revenge out of some stupid notion that once King Soul's perished, my mother will love me. I seek justice while knowing full well that she never could."

The two women glanced at each other momentarily, then they turned their attention back to Regicide. I noticed that his body was still trembling, even though he'd gone back to his long-winded, theatrically humorous tone and demeanor. He was deflecting, as usual, only now it wasn't working as well for him. The stress was taking its toll on his mind and he was losing his composure.

"So then what exactly do you hope to gain out of this," Sigourney asked as she folded her arms. Leaning back in her chair, she gave the villain an indignant look, inviting him to argue with her. It was a clever tactic, but he didn't initially take the bait, so she laid out more.

"Your mother doesn't want revenge, Patrick. And you know it won't fix anything. If you were to escape here now and go to the media with all your information on King Soul, no one would believe you. And I doubt he'd ever confess to such skeptical claims no matter how much you tortured him. What do you get out of killing King Soul? What do you get out of publicly defeating and embarrassing him? Don't tell me this is just some hypermasculine dick-measuring contest for you, I thought you'd be better than that."

That wasn't the case, I knew it couldn't be. She'd said it herself, Regicide was better than that. He had to have a better reason.

The supervillain scoffed, "You would think that."

"Then help us understand," Kandor said, "why have you fixated your life around King Soul like this?"

In response, all he said was, "Scars."

The two stared at him in anticipation, but he didn't say another clarifying word.

"What scars," the Director asked.

The villain pointed to his helmet angrily, "Don't lie! Don't you fucking lie! I know you saw, you were at the battle in the Square! You saw when Guarda took my mask away and showed the whole world my face! Do not sit here and pretend like you didn't see what he did to me!"

I quickly guessed that was how they managed to capture Regicide. True Faces were so obsessed with their masks that it wasn't uncommon for them to stop fighting entirely if they were removed. Take off a True Face's mask, and they would react in any number of ways. Some would become angry and lose all focus on the battle. Some would start crying while they frantically searched for it. There were even situations were a hero or civilian would remove a True Face's mask, and they'd pass out right where they stood. Guarda was the best fighter in the entire High Guard, getting close enough to Regicide to remove his helmet would have been a simple task for her.

I remembered how Regicide screamed when the Director threatened to remove his mask, and how he screamed about the scars just then. I could see why Director Sigourney was so rattled earlier when I asked how they managed to restrain him. Whatever disfigurement Regicide was hiding, both it and his reaction to having it exposed must have been torture to watch.

"I have to kill him," Regicide said, "because he destroyed my life the minute I was conceived! He cursed me with these scars, with a monstrous visage that no one would ever trust. I'll never have a life because of him, so the least he owes me is the ecstasy of destroying his life and then ripping it from him!"

He was stumbling over his words as he raved and raged against the hero on the other side of the window. He'd lost all composure at this point and wasn't even attempting to hide that fact. This was more than anger, it was hatred. Regicide lived his entire life with nothing but hatred inside of him, and he directed every last iota of it towards his father.

"I'll kill him!" The supervillain screamed, "Because that's the only reason I exist! I'm going to destroy everything he has—everything I never had—and then wipe him off the face of this planet!"

"But what about after," Kandor pleaded, "don't you realize how self-destructive this is? Even if you allowed yourself some type of life outside of your bloodlust, the moment you kill him, you'd never be able to go back! This world would outcast and destroy you for what you did. Every man, woman, nb, and child on this planet would turn against you. You'd never have friends, family, love, or even safety again."

"I never had any of those things," Regicide snapped. "All my life I've only had liars tell me that I'd get all of that in time because it was just a natural part of human life. But that's a lie! It's all a lie."

The villain took a deep breath before he continued.

"My own mother feared me. I've never had friends. I've never had anything even close to romance. I used to agonize wondering when my life would improve and when I'd finally earn all the glorious things they tell us we should vie for. But I don't care anymore. I know the truth. There was never any guarantee I'd have any of that in the first place."

The Director and Kandor looked at each other, remaining silent the entire time. They were likely speaking telepathically, using one of the linked data chips that were standard issue for field agents. It wasn't difficult, though, to figure out what they were saying. They'd finally cracked Regicide open, and inside they'd found an obsessive, dangerous madman.

Director Sigourney sighed, then closed her notebook while she rose from her chair.

"I think we're done here, for the most part."

Kandor looked visibly uncomfortable as she arose from her own seat. Her hand was grasped around the hilt of her laser sword, but she didn't draw it. She was waiting for Regicide to attack.

But why, I asked myself. He was very docile and complying at that moment.

"Remove your helmet, please," The Director said as she held her hand out. I felt a bottomless pit open up somewhere in my stomach the moment she made the request. I knew how Regicide would respond.

The villain was dismayed, turning his head from one woman to the other in wild, jerky motions. He looked over to the mirror then snapped his head back forward. He was like a cornered mouse.

"But," he said, "you've already seen!"

The Director shook her head, "I actually haven't, as I wasn't looking directly at you when Guarda removed it on the battlefield. But even if I did, we still need a picture for our records. Remove it now."

The villain placed his hands firmly upon his head, "NO! You have pictures, I know you do. You have to!"

"When we give an order," Kandor replied, "you are expected to follow it no matter what it is. The Director has ordered you to remove your helmet!"

"Get the fuck away from me," Regicide screamed as he leaped from his chair and bolted to the corner of the room. Kandor drew her laser sword and held it high while she pursued the villain, who barely dodged her swings while he frantically tried to escape with his helmet intact. Once he hit the corner and had nowhere else to run, he fell into an awkward, rocking, fetal position while he whimpered and cried out begging Kandor to leave him alone.

"Take off your helmet or I will take it off," she stated with a menacing point of her luminous blade.

"Please," was all he responded with.

The hero didn't hesitate. With a slight movement, she thrust her sword forward, then immediately pulled back. The speakers on the screen went wonky as the collision made a sound I could only begin to imagine. Once her blade was returned to its resting position, I noticed the telltale sign of cracks beginning to form in Regicide's mask. The white lightning scars began to crawl across his shining, obsidian face, creating an intricate pattern of glass bits which only grew and grew. After the point that the fractures resembled a web, the entire mask fell in on its own weight, littering the floor below with nearly a hundred little, black shards.

Regicide didn't look as magnificent as I'd expected. He was very prosaic in appearance. His skin was a dark brown that seemed to glow in the fluorescent light of the interrogation room. His eyes were similarly dark, with the slightest glint of some red in the white flesh. Regicide's black hair was tied back into the cornrow style which had once been popular with my father's generation and was only now making a come-back amongst the teenagers of the country. The only remarkably outstanding feature about his face was its flawless skin. There wasn't a single pimple, mole, or scar in sight.

"NO! NO! NO!" The supervillain screamed and cried as he struggled to cover his face with his hands. His wails sounded so sincere and heartbreaking that I could feel tears beginning to well up in my own eyes. I wanted to reach through the screen and give him my hoodie, but I couldn't.

The Director angrily walked over to Regicide and lifted him up by his shirt. The feat took my breath away despite her reputation of herculean strength. She walked to the mirror and slammed his body onto the glass pane, then motioned for Kandor to come to her side.

"Patrick! Patrick! Look at yourself, Patrick!" Director Sigourney urged while she tried to pull one of Regicide's hands away from his face. Kandor quickly caught on and began doing the same. I felt worse than a voyeur while I watched them. His bodily autonomy was being violated and I just sat back watching, doing nothing to help him.

"Regicide," Kandor began, "listen to us! There is nothing on your face! The scars are not real!"

The hero shook his head and cried, "Yes they are! They've always been real and I can always see them. And it's all his fault! He did this to me!"

I can't say what happened next. The video stopped at that point. A command box popped up onto the screen, asking if I needed to re-watch the footage. In any other circumstance, I would have rewatched it. I'd want to verify that my transcription was correct.

I clicked 'no." I didn't care if I got a few words wrong. I couldn't bring myself to watch it again.

After a few seconds, Director Sigourney returned to the room. She said nothing and only held out a hand towards me, prompting me for the device. Gingerly, I placed it into her palm, and she immediately threw it to the ground, causing a loud clatter that made me jump. I watched as the glass shards slid across the floor and couldn't help but think back to Regicide's mask.

"What happened after?" I asked.

The Director shook her head, "It just keeps going on like that. We try to get him to look at his face and realize there's nothing wrong but..."

I stood stoically while I waited for her to continue. When she didn't, I pushed her further, "You really did have a picture of him though, right? Why did you need to take off his mask?"

She gave me a pleading look, "I swear, I only wanted to try and help him. I thought if I could make him realize the scars weren't real, then maybe his path to mental health would be easier."

I shook my head, "That isn't true."

She nodded and chuckled, "Yeah, if you had believed that, then I'd have fired you. We don't need idiots in our line of work. Truth is, Regicide is a danger to society. He doesn't follow any rules, not even the rules of nature. People like him need to be broken before they can be made useful."

I could see the logic of her reasoning, but I wasn't sure if I agreed with how she practiced it. I shifted the subject, "Is that why you slammed him against the wall? You wanted to show him to whoever was on the other side, right? What line are you afraid of that person crossing?"

The Director rolled her eyes as she fished an electronic cigarette from her pocket. "There was no one on the other side," she lied.

I decided to stop playing coy, "Don't give me that! King Soul had to have been there! That was-"

She cut me off before I could continue, "King Soul did want to be there, but he couldn't. I told him not to. He foolishly thought that if he just had a chance to talk to the boy, he could prove that there was no way he could be his father. But I think that would have only made the delusion worse for Regicide, so we had him stay away."

I bit my tongue to stop myself from going too far. The hidden meaning behind her words was obvious. Officially speaking, nothing that Regicide had said could be real. Officially he was just a sick kid with superpowers.

"But what would we do on the one percent chance," I asked. I knew I was risking a lot, but after what I'd just seen I couldn't take her dismissive cover-up sitting down. If Regicide really was just a crazy kid, then why did she have to brutalize and torture him so badly?

She put her e-cig down and leaned towards me from behind her desk.

"Do you know how many actual rapists and pedophiles King Soul has taken down? How much money he's raised for domestic abuse shelters? King Soul singlehandedly saved NewNew Orleans from Hurricane Jindal two years ago, then spent three weeks re-building New Treme. King Soul is a UN ambassador who's ended ten wars and prevented countless others. King Soul is a modern-day Aspiration!"

I began to roll my eyes.

Director Sigourney waved a dismissive hand at me, "King Soul's a good person who works to maintain the peace we take for granted all too often. What he was before doesn't matter."

I wanted to agree with her and just accept that King Soul was a different person now. I knew that most people would probably react in the exact same way. But I had seen the damage that King Soul had done to Regicide. Maybe he could have been a normal kid if his life was different, but all his trauma destroyed him.

Regicide could have been a hero with his powers, but instead, he would spend his life in jail, just like damn near every other True Face and Unregistered. I couldn't just dismiss his story with a wave of the hand and say that it wouldn't even matter if it were true. No good that King Soul did could make up for that. But why couldn't Director Sigourney understand that?

"He should have to go through some type of punishment at least," I urged.

Director Sigourney shook her head, "Give it a rest kid."

"No!" In the back of my head, a voice was screaming at me for raising my voice at the Director, but I didn't yield to it. I understood that this was a complex situation, but that's precisely why I couldn't just give up.

"If there's even a chance King Soul did this," I began, "then he needs to be tried! There needs to be an actual investigation. And when found guilty, he needs to be punished! The fact that he's King Soul doesn't excuse him. If anything-"

I didn't continue my thought. Director Sigourney gave me a knowing look as my mouth hung agape, paused between words. Everything I knew, I didn't fully understand, because I wasn't looking at the picture in the right order.

The fact that Regicide never fought King Soul when lives could be collateral damage. King Soul's adamant refusal to accept help from the High Guard in defeating Regicide. The limited recording of the interrogation that violated every protocol. I thought it was all strange. I dismissed it because I couldn't see it properly. But at that moment, I was beginning to align every mental image in just the right way to make me realize the truth.

"Yes," Director Sigourney said as she began to rise from her desk, recognizing that I had finally put all the puzzle pieces together correctly, "King Soul would want to be punished because that's the type of person he is. He's not the monster Regicide makes him out to be, and for that the entire world is fortunate."

I shook my head, rebuking her, "How long have you known? How long have you all let this man play hero when you knew how he really was?"

The Director didn't say anything, she simply walked towards the door of her office. I didn't want to let her get away that easily, though.

"What would you have done if he finally lost his temper and killed Regicide? How would you have covered that up?"

"Regicide is a menace to society," she began. "He is an Unregistered Non-binary and a True Face. And unfortunately, negative elements in Black communities lead their young men to misuse their superpowers quite often. If King Soul had killed him, it wouldn't have been out of a loss of temper, it would be because he recognized the danger Regicide posed at that moment."

The Director's clearly rehearsed response left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"So we're just supposed to accept the fact that King Soul, the earth's moral compass, is a fucking lie?"

The Director opened the door and gestured for me to exit the office, "You understand the importance of King Soul as a symbol. For the African American community. For the super community. For all Americans and all the World."

I stood up from my chair and walked out of the room. As I passed her by, I wanted to say something else, but she closed the door before I could think of a final word.

I returned to the sub-sub-basement that was the records department. One of my co-workers was there, a man named Henry who always wore a t-shirt with a different superhero's hologram on it. He started talking to me about a huge order we had that day since yet another alien refugee hero wanted us to backup the entire collected history of their now-deceased planet.

I didn't really hear him. I was too busy looking at the hologram on the t-shirt, realizing for the first time that Regicide was the mirror image of his father.