I watched the world tilt. As though I was looking down past my feet from a swing seat. I couldn’t get a grip on it, couldn’t make sense of it.
Because I was watching something that made no sense. I had noticed it slowly, seeing the way my boss gave orders. The way documents were done. The way my gut twisted as we collected fledglings.
Up was slowly becoming down.
“Gloria!” Simon hissed, “what are you doing?”
I shook my head, getting ready to save the girl waiting on the steps. She looked about nervously, hands clasping her knees. She was scared of us. Why?
“Go.” Simon commanded, watching me delicately step off the ledge. My wings flared, allowing me to float slowly down to her eye level.
She screamed. The girl screams at me.
The sound shocked me, making me stumble a little as I touched down.
Usually they watched me with awe; some even wanted to run a hand through my wing feathers. I was a winged warrior, beautiful as light touched my wings. My costume spoke of roman gods in golds, whites and silvers. I was beautiful. I was graceful. I was here to protect and save.
The girl whimpered as I came closer, pressing herself against the stone steps. “No, don’t.”
“I’m here to help.” I said soothingly, “I can take you somewhere to –”
“NO!” she screamed.
I crouched, putting my hands out. “Hey, it’s okay.”
If she unleashed her foundling power, she could bring the whole building down on us.
“Gloria.”
I turned around, wings in tight, daggers jumping into hands.
Atlas stood a step below me, watching me with those deep green eyes. I hadn't seen him since I was a child. He was tall, dark hair tied and braided back out of his eyes.
“What-”
He gestured to the girl, “she called me. She said the winged are onto her.”
“We’re just here to –”
“How many fledglings have you seen since “rescuing” them?”
“Plenty!” I replied, but he knew. I could see it in the way those eyes watched me. Saw the doubt that had been building inside of me for months. I hadn’t seen any.
“The Winged Society” or “TWS” were the heroes. We helped in natural disasters, major conflicts, serious crimes. We and our abilities kept everything in the balance. We… we helped.
Unlike the Undergrounders. Like Atlas.
“Gloria… do you remember your parents?” Atlas asked gently, “I know you were brought up in the Aivary. I know the founders of your organization was an ancestor of yours.”
He swept his arm up, at the posters of me decorating the city outside the walls we stood in. “Poster girl Gloria. Golden Girl Gloria.” His mouth twisted. “You are more trapped than Marisol here.”
At her name the girl looked at Atlas, her shivering quieting down a little more.
“Gloria!” Simon yelled from above, “I can’t get a clear shot. Collect the girl and let’s get out of the slums.”
“If you want to die, I suggest you keep talking.” I replied stiffly, “give me a second.”
Of course, he couldn’t see Atlas. He couldn’t be picked up on cameras. He didn’t have a heat signature. His powers were confusing.
“Listen to me Gloria. Turn bad.”
“What?!” I hissed, “are you out of your mind!?”
“I promise, if this isn’t what you want then I’ll give you back. You can be the golden girl again.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure you’ll keep your promise.” I replied sarcastically. “Reliable Atlas. I’m sure I can hold you to that.”
“I defected for a reason. Let me show you why. I can pretend to kidnap you and you can be rescued.”
“You left me.” I said, “you were meant to stay with me. You were meant to –”
“I know.” He said, walking forward. The girl didn’t shy away from him, rather stepped closer to him.
Simon saw the movement, screaming into his communicator.
“Atlas you bastard. You swore never to –”
Simon cut off, pulling guns out to fire at Atlas. The girl screamed, ducking to the ground. Before I knew what I was doing I spun around, flaring out my wings. Bullets clanged off my wings, falling dented to the concrete.
“Are you crazy Si!?” I screamed up at him, “you could’ve hit the kid!”
Simon returned his guns, grimacing. “True. Leave her. We’ll regroup!”
“Gloria.” Atlas whispered, ducking down to pick up the girl. “Come with me. I won’t ever lie to you. I swear on the life of Sophia.”
Sophia Arctic.
She had died. For Atlas. If I closed my eyes I could see her cheerful blue eyes, her beautiful snowy white wings. Like an arctic owl. She had been the only mother I had ever known. She had loved him. She had been the best of us.
“Okay.” I whispered, “for Sophia.”
“Stay away from Gloria!” Simon screamed, “don’t believe a word he says! He’s scum!”
I looked up at Simon. Simon with wings too big to fit in here. He couldn’t fly down to me. He was an albatross stuck in a birdcage. I had always obeyed him, always willing to be the good guy for him and my winged brethren.
What if good and bad were just labels for a society stuck in tar? What if there were other wing colours then black and white?
I watched the world tilt again and click. Stuck that way. There was more here than I understood.
If being the villain was the only way to get answers. Then.
“I renounce the ways of The Winged Society,” I yelled.
“DON'T-” Simon screamed.
But whatever he was going to say was silenced as my wings from feather tips to my back feathers began to change. No longer white metal, they shimmered and changed. White to black. Black to glinting garnet.
Colour drained out of Simon’s face, real fear in his face. My superior sight watched him swallow bile. He stood up. No longer filled with rage.
But pure fear.
I watched him put his phone to his ear, eyes never leaving my face.
“She’s defected. With Atlas.”
That was the last I saw of Simon as Atlas wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me away.
“You’re not defective Gloria.” Atlas grunted, pulling us down into the slum tunnels. “You’re free.”
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*I'm liking the "write in 30min" thing. I tried it too XD*
ns 172.70.130.197da2
and then Add to home screen.