Chapter 7: Go Down Moses
Ace would have preferred it to be the night it made it easier to operate in than the evening; then again, he wasn't exactly Reaper at the moment but rather as Ace Ward, just another observer to the woman currently parting the river across the border from him a crowd of thousands and hundreds of riot cops and national guardsmen. Ace smiled as he saw the woman crossing the river.
24 hours earlier…
"I don't know how you managed to both suffer from jet lag and glider lag at the same time congratulations Master Ward, that's quite the accomplishment if I do the say so myself." joked Xander in his best Efrem Zimbalist Jr. as he handed Ace a tray for breakfast Pancakes, bacon sausage, rice cakes, and cheese grits."
"You were supposed to have hash brown, but fatty heat ate it all." joked Destiny.
.
Xander looked embarrassed for a quick second before switching towards comedy. "Hey, what can I say? I and my metabolism love your cooking, Destiny."
"Well, I'm glad you just stuck to making tea." smiled Ace.
"My cooking isn't that bad," said Xander, to which Destiny laughed at. "Xan the man, there are a lot of great things about you, but cooking is not one of them."
"I'm not that bad."
"Xander buddy, you burned cereal; I still don't know it under how you turned cold milk hot."
"Speaking of hot, you know who is coming to town this after, and she already called three times asking for you," said Destiny.
Ace took a sip of his tea"Destiny, that can be at least 5-6 people, not counting the other mask I hooked with the other night."
"Speaking of which, she texted you saying "are you still in Vegas? I am drunk, lonely, hungry and sad and looking to make bad decisions.". Now, while I think that all great aspects in a woman, we were talking about an actual ex-girlfriend of yours, Andrea Dollyanne Belmont." said Xander placing extra emphasis on the name as Ace was quite for a second that felt like forever as the name rang out in his head. Andrea the Southern Belle, the one he thought he would marry, the one he lifted due to the pain of the loss of his father, ironically enough the only girl he dated long term that his dad approved him dating. Pictures of her and him still covered parts of his desk in his personal areas, and he, every now again, would buy a magazine just to see her face. He would never be able to throw it away, allowing it to sit away until Xander or Destiny put it away or threw it out. Her name is said, flooding of emotion with it.
"I'm going to be busy; a border town in Texas is gonna have a mega human arriving there."
Destiny and Xander looked at each other, then back to Ace.
"So what do we tell Miss-"
"Tell her I will be out for the next day or so, because I am joining the protest in support of the sand woman."
"So I am guessing you don't want me to play copycat Reaper this time?" asked Destiny.
"'No, because the three of you are coming with me."
"We are?" asked Xander.
"The three of us, I already ask Maxwell to hold down the fort while we go out there; what's the matter?"
"Um, Ace, I can't just get and fly across the country on a whim." said Destiny "My mom would probably kill me or, more than likely, my dad first for agreeing and then me. If it was a weekend in thing then yeah, I could probably lie to my mom about spending the nights at Maxwell's house or something."
"Right right, your mom hates me, and for some reason, she thinks I am a bad influence on you.".
"Well for one, I am kinda adding a billionaire vigilante."
Destiny laughed
"Speaking of which, I took the liberty of running the thumb drive, and thank god I did too, the thing bricked my laptop thank god it wasn't contacted to anything, from what I could tell, the virus on it was meant to lock down police coms throughout the city. Not just that but it seemed to also try and wipe out any information on the laptop. I think the revenant was trying to shut down all police computers, not just coms. Fucked up thing it would of worked too, basically destroying a lot of files and sending APD back to the 20th century."
"You can explain the rest of the computer speak once we get on the plane." said Ace "you are joining me at least of am I flying solo."
"I'm sure my dad would let me go, but I'm not all that keen on going to a war zone.". said Xander as he clicked on TV to the news.
Video of riot police holding back rows of protesters screaming at armed national guardsmen armed to the teeth looked across the shimmering river.
The feed cut too many people huddling together walking towards the border town; CNN even put a little a timer for the estimated arrival time.
"Ace, are you sure about this?" asked Destiny.
"As much as I am sure about most things," said Ace
"In that case, I will call up the plane and tell them to chart a flight for two," said Xander.
Twenty-four hours later, the two boys stood there among the people with little more than baseball caps and darkly tinted sunglasses hiding their faces.
…
Officially Bishop was here on assignment for his new job unofficially Black Power was neat by just in case one of the border pigs or the gravy seals didn't act out of pocket. He promised himself that he wouldn't intervene unless nonlethals looked like they were going to be deployed to the scene. Otherwise, he would try to keep himself back, but something in his mind question if he could really stand back and watch a group of refugees gets beat with billy clubs and tear gas simply for trying to cross the border for a better life.
That was the struggle for him, knowing when to act and when to be an observer to things in the world. Yet, at every moment of injustice, he felt that need to act. Bishop could feel something heat up behind his eyes before there were flashes of memories taking him back to his childhood.
Butch slammed Kelly into the locker, scuffing up her freshly pressed school blazer for the middle school chess team. "Where do you think you are going, freak?".
"Leave me alone!" said Kelly.
Butch brother Dutch "Damn Butch, pops was right; these folks do smell different."
"Go away." demanded as she tried to struggle free but to no avail.
"How about you go away back to Africa," said Butch pulling back his right arm like he was about to punch her but right before he was about to swing on the defenseless girl, a hand grabbed it, spinning him around to see Bishop face for a brief second before his light got punched out by Bishop. Dutch looked at Bishop, then at his brother before running off down the hallway.
"Around five and a half minutes later, the two kids sat in the principal's office as the school staff told Bishop and Keke had "Suddenly and without warning attack Butch and Dutch, while they were on their way to have a nice lunch together.". Bishop was already good enough at the time to heat through the door at what the principal and old Nam vet who after leaving the arm joined up in the national guard to keep own busting heads during the riots of the '70s, before retiring and becoming a principle all of which were thing Bishop had picked on with his hearing of from noticing different things from his many visits to Mr.Kent's office.
"If your kid keeps acting like a wild animal, you can keep him at the farm, but I will not have him acting like that in my school; this isn't the damn jungle."
"Thanks, Castle," said Kelly kissing him on the cheek.
"Don't mention it," he joked back.
Then it was college; at first, he was there to become an engineer, but then the scandal happened. It had all started with him snooping around Professor Middleweight to find his laptop, but what happened after he found out that his prof had been secretly making weapons for the mob changed his life forever. Bishop discovered the clues and evidence of the crime that helped bring him to justice that set him on the right track. Not just with him becoming a reporter but him becoming Black Power, even if that name still sounded ridiculous in his head.
Back in the present, Bishop gazed upon the woman crossing the river. The huddle masses follow her. The image of this conjured up the stories of Harriet Tubman leading men, women, and children to a better life. However, the bus thought turned towards the ICE vans and bussed only a few hundred feet away from him like wagons of the slave catching vigilantes of the not-so-distant past. His eyes so focused he didn't see his boss or Sammy, who was just beside him.
…
The first thing that hit Spader was of course the smell of it all; whatever chemical used in the explosives that blew out the penthouse seemed to be an industrial-grade or at least close to it. 
The bomb itself, at least the mechanical component to it, wasn't all that well put together from the way the penthouse was still holding up, minus the large hole in the side of it which Spader landed through the police tape.
He looked around for clues; if he was being honest with himself, he didn't know what he was looking for Spader was a lot of things, but a detective wasn't exactly one of them. Yet he had listened to enough true-crime podcasts to know that he should probably start. Spader nearly fainted hover when the light flipped as soon as he entered the too show, a woman may be in her mid to early '20s in a tight black dress, and a dull emotional red glared at Eric as the moonlight shined down onto her brown skin. Her voice, like her long hair, was like silk.
"I wondered when one of you would show up." said the woman "better you than the walking A-bomb, no pun intended. I'm guessing you are to investigate the mess. Here," he tossed him a small clear plastic baggy with green nail covered in some type of algae-like foam.
"One of us?" asked Spader catching the baggy, confused as he finally began to recognize the woman as none other than Tamika Lang, the head of his arch-rival company."
"Tamika?" asked Spader before the lights flickered again, and she was gone.
"I really need to learn how to do that," said Spader looking at the nail inside the baggy. The green stuff seemed to move on its own, almost like it was…alive.
Eric landed through the open skylight of his apartment to a waiting Susan setting down on a nearby chair, looking at him more like his mother did after catching him in his youth sneaking into his home after a long night out.
"What did you fine?" she asked.
"More like who did I find, would you believe if I said Miss Lang was there?"
"Wait, did she-"
"No, at least I don't think so, Susan. I doubt the bomber would wait for some random guy to fly in only to hand them a clue. My best guess is that she was investigating this too." Spader pulled out the green-covered nail still safe within the bag, " Which brings me to this little number. It looks like it might be alive. I also could smell heavy chemicals someone might have been trying to make a homemade WMD."
Susan's eyes widen. "If it's bio-related or chemical-related, then this is bigger than one person. A disgruntled ex-employee decided to mail in a pipe bomb to his boss's place is one thing, but making what could have been a dirty bomb is a whole other ball game. One that might just be out of our league."
"I'm going to have to step to the plate; with great power comes great responsibility and all that other stuff."
"Speaking of which, you might want to see this," said Susan as she turned on the tv to the news from Texas.
…
The night was old as Emilio sat on the edge of Dream Land, looking down at the pool and the woman in it. She was stunning, yet he could not tell anything else about her. Not even the clothes she was wearing or what she even truly looked like, yet he knew he wanted her.
She sat there swimming in the pool all by herself all night long, or at least what it had seemed to be all night. Things felt different looking at her like he had entered into a strange yet very familiar world. Everything was a very liminal space around her, a mixture of rose-tented nostalgia on the subject he didn't know anything about. It only increased when she spoke her voice like that of a choir but from one single voice.
"Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray
Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay
Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain
Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again.".
Emilio could hear her calling him, the angelic call of a siren. Its voice twisted around him, warping him in a self-assured comfort. He closed his eyes as the next lyric came from her lips and the air whistle passed him on his fall into the pool.
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
The water came up to meet his face as his body quickly followed, diving deeper and deeper into what was supposed to be a pool, but now as Emilio regained control and looked around, it was far too large to be anything but an ocean.

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair
And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year
Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be
Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea
While up aloft in a storm, from me his absence mourn
And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam
The shot of fear turned into horror as he gazed up towards the watery blue sky above him, the surface miles away. Then in a single glance down the shot of hot racing fear-based adrenaline turned to ice as his blood ran cold. There was no bottom, nothing more than an empty bottomless pit of inky blackness. The voice wrong out again, so near yet so far away. Emilio could feel something out there, just outreach something far too large and impossible in its shape.
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
It began to get darker and darker around him, as he could somehow feel the shape of what it was wrapping around just out of his reach like a boa slowly constricting its kill. Emilio used his lightings to flash for a second in order to see the thing. What it showed was nothing but the coils of a sea monster far beyond his imagination in scope it scales shining with a madding light in colors beyond that of men's minds. As coils grew closer and closer, it quickly became darker and darker as the song grew louder.
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing that can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
Emilio's eyes shot open as he nearly jumped out of his soaking wet bed. He looked around
"I gotta stop fuckin drinking." He said as he turned the tv on to the news from Texas.
…
Amanda pushed her way through the crowdedschool hallway; she had woken up late and had to skateboard to class to avoid being late. Staying up all night being "a kick-ass vigilante" was something that ate up her sleep schedule. Infact between school, homework, her part time job working at a pizza shop, and being a superhero, Amanda had taken a massive toll on her social schedule in addition to her sleep schedule. To the point of her friends began to notice that she had over the last few days been increasingly absent a grew concerned. Amanda also started to feel like she was abandoning her friend. She asked cap about it the night before, and he told her "To grow a pair and bottle up that bitch shit, like a man.".At least her mother was too busy flying across the country on Business trips to pay attention to her and her newfound hobby. 
Amanda fumbled with the combination of her locker when
"You know you don't have to wear that, right?" asked Stacy Smith. Like her initial subtlety  suggested, the blue eyes flat body of the American flavor of wonder bread was the closest thing a person can be to a walking talking microaggression. Stacy was that oh so rare type of special bully that only the American education system could make. The all-American head cheer bitch of a mean girl. The type that would make comments about not being able to see Ammand when the lights cut off or touching her hair without consent only when Amanda inevitably confronted her about her passive-aggressive bullshit all Stacy had to do was turned on the waterworks or make a sad snap story post, and then suddenly Amanda was the bad guy.
"What are you talking about, Stacy," asked Amanda biting her tongue, trying her best not to say anything rude.
"You know that shirt." She said, pointing at Amanda's death-stroke T-shirt.
"What's wrong with my shirt."
"I get that you wanna have boys, but honey, you don't have to be such a pick me to get one. Sometimes it's ok to be normal like the other girls."
"You know Stacy, you're right," said Amanda faking a smile.
Stacy was confused but smiled anyway "I'm usually am."
"And you don't have to be a slut who lets the football team run a train on you to be the popular girl," said Amanda, her voice changing to an almost wolf-like growl. After a moment, both her and Stacy's eyes widened at the impact of what Amanda had just said hitting them.
"W-what did you just say." stuttered Stacy in almost pure disbelief that someone, let alone Amanda, would talk to her like  it wasn't just her. The entire hallway went quiet after what she had said
"What that you let that you are for the team?" joked Amanda at this point, rage from years of Stacy's bs spilled out of her. "Oh honey, did you think they could keep that a secret? You know what they say boys will be boys. Oh, and I'm not rocking this death-stroke T-shirt because I want to be picked. I wear it because he is a fucking badass. You, on the other hand, lock like you're queen shit because deep down, you know once you hit that wall, and not even your stepdaddy would want to touch you.". Her lip cut to a smirk, but her mind was in a code red panic. The words she just said wasn't her's. There were all things Slaughter had said when she vented about Stacy to him.
"Fucking bitch!" Stacy exclaimed, throwing a very telegraph punch that Amanda dodged with little to no effort at all. Stacy threw another to which Amanda dodged again then again. She was bobbing and weaving just how Cap Slaughter taught her. After what must of been a minute, she just stopped deciding to let just let Stacy get one hit on her to see what would happen. Stacy's fist struck the side of Amanda's head, only for Stacy to scream out in pain, falling to the ground holding her hand.
"Need a hand?" joked Amanda as she stepped over Stacy and past the crowd of people recording it. Amanda's phone rang as she walked towards the front office. It was an unknown number.
"Hello, Amanda," said none other Ace Ward.
"Oh my god, Re-I mean Ac-I mean Mr.Ward!" exclaimed Amanda
Ace sighed. "I hope you weren't in public when you said that."
"No sir, well not really, I don't think, but sir, is there something wanted? If it isn't that finds too-"
"Have you been watching the news?"
"The News, sir?"
"The sand woman is currently at or near the border ."
"I heard about, pretty cool, right."
"It can be dangerous; there is a chance someone, be it ICE, Protesters, The National Guard, or your pick of paramilitaries could start something . I'm arranging air travel for you; it should arrive at Bergstrom in the next hour; I have already notified Cap he will meet you there."
"Mr.Ward, I'm in sc-"
*click*
Amanda thought about things for a moment already figured she was in deep shit, so skipping school wouldn't be any worse by this point.
"Hey Amanda, wait up!" said Brad. Brad Wellman, captain of the football team, the closest thing she had to a crush and Stacy's ex's "You left your bookbag. It's pretty cool, by the way; it's Deadpool, right I love that movie?"
"It's act- thank you," she said.
"Hey, I'm sorry about Stacy she can be "
"A bitch?" joked Amanda.
"I can't disagree with you there, but I see you about to skip. I got to practice today, but if you wanna hang out this weekend, snap me."
Amanda almost fainted. "Um-sure." was all she managed to say as she turned back around, heading through the school doors.
Once out of sight of the school, she began to skate down the road towards the airport, her eyes wide, and so was her smile.
….
Mia gripped her walking stick as she looked across the river; the reflection of the national guard clad in their body armor and holding less than lethal weapons shimmered in the water. There was nothing truly different between what she was doing in the Middle East and what she was doing here, protecting people against soldiers. Yet this felt different; maybe it was the camera seen hadn't seen so many before all of them pointed at her. It dawned on then why things felt different. This would be the first true showing of her power that wasn't blurry new footage for the first time the world was going to meet her.
Mi sighed before turning around to face the caravan, many of which were recording her. There were even some newscasters from the United States on her side of the banks filming.
"I say this now in front of the most high and the world. There are no borders except those of man. The lands of the creator are of all things, both among paradise and among man's land. The earth is not pieces of meat meant to be craved away by the powerful; it is garden land for all people, genders, creeds, and people. There is nothing between the grounds of the global north and the global south. These so-called imaginary lines across the desert drawn up by the rich and powerful to break up a man from his fellow man are meaningless as the sand it rests on. There is no land but God's land. There is no kingdom but the one of Allah. There is no ruler but Yahweh! We are all our father's children. The action I take now is out of his will, not my own. There is no power but the ones of the creator; I am no one. He is the greatest!" Mia said, then she turned around back to face across the river, saying to herself quietly, "I trust in you, my father.".
The walking staff went into the water as the ground began to rumble. In front of thousands and televised to millions, more dirt began to rise up from under the river pushing back the water, parting the waves. Tremendous shock, fear, and jubilation went over the crowd on both sides as quietness went out as Mia began to walk between the parted river, followed by the rest of the caravan.
Around the world, heroes, metahumans, civilians, presidents, generals, CEOs, and kings saw the image of a young parting the waves. Many cried it a miracle, many watched in fear, many remained silent. 
At the edge of the American bank of the river, no sooner did Mia's foot touch the sand did the national guard moved to arrest her. Yet with a single glance, their weapons were blown away by a gust of sand. Some of the militia folks took a shit at her hitting her directly center of mass. Yet the bullet went into her body as it would to a sand pile; Mia kept walking on sand winds wrapping around her enemies, burying them to their necks but not killing them. In a matter of minutes, the caravan was on the other side of the river, which began to flow normal yet again as the refugees from South America began to disperse across the sand, some to cars, others to busses, and some on their feet. One girl with her mom hugged Mia tightly, the mother saying in Spanish
"I don't know who you are but thank you."
Mia smiled, looking down at the dirt under her feet. "I am sand. I am Desert; I am no one; The creator is all."
24 hours earlier…
"I don't know how you managed to both suffer from jet lag and glider lag at the same time congratulations Master Ward, that's quite the accomplishment if I do the say so myself." joked Xander in his best Efrem Zimbalist Jr. as he handed Ace a tray for breakfast Pancakes, bacon sausage, rice cakes, and cheese grits."
"You were supposed to have hash brown, but fatty heat ate it all." joked Destiny.
.
Xander looked embarrassed for a quick second before switching towards comedy. "Hey, what can I say? I and my metabolism love your cooking, Destiny."
"Well, I'm glad you just stuck to making tea." smiled Ace.
"My cooking isn't that bad," said Xander, to which Destiny laughed at. "Xan the man, there are a lot of great things about you, but cooking is not one of them."
"I'm not that bad."
"Xander buddy, you burned cereal; I still don't know it under how you turned cold milk hot."
"Speaking of hot, you know who is coming to town this after, and she already called three times asking for you," said Destiny.
Ace took a sip of his tea"Destiny, that can be at least 5-6 people, not counting the other mask I hooked with the other night."
"Speaking of which, she texted you saying "are you still in Vegas? I am drunk, lonely, hungry and sad and looking to make bad decisions.". Now, while I think that all great aspects in a woman, we were talking about an actual ex-girlfriend of yours, Andrea Dollyanne Belmont." said Xander placing extra emphasis on the name as Ace was quite for a second that felt like forever as the name rang out in his head. Andrea the Southern Belle, the one he thought he would marry, the one he lifted due to the pain of the loss of his father, ironically enough the only girl he dated long term that his dad approved him dating. Pictures of her and him still covered parts of his desk in his personal areas, and he, every now again, would buy a magazine just to see her face. He would never be able to throw it away, allowing it to sit away until Xander or Destiny put it away or threw it out. Her name is said, flooding of emotion with it.
"I'm going to be busy; a border town in Texas is gonna have a mega human arriving there."
Destiny and Xander looked at each other, then back to Ace.
"So what do we tell Miss-"
"Tell her I will be out for the next day or so, because I am joining the protest in support of the sand woman."
"So I am guessing you don't want me to play copycat Reaper this time?" asked Destiny.
"'No, because the three of you are coming with me."
"We are?" asked Xander.
"The three of us, I already ask Maxwell to hold down the fort while we go out there; what's the matter?"
"Um, Ace, I can't just get and fly across the country on a whim." said Destiny "My mom would probably kill me or, more than likely, my dad first for agreeing and then me. If it was a weekend in thing then yeah, I could probably lie to my mom about spending the nights at Maxwell's house or something."
"Right right, your mom hates me, and for some reason, she thinks I am a bad influence on you.".
"Well for one, I am kinda adding a billionaire vigilante."
Destiny laughed
"Speaking of which, I took the liberty of running the thumb drive, and thank god I did too, the thing bricked my laptop thank god it wasn't contacted to anything, from what I could tell, the virus on it was meant to lock down police coms throughout the city. Not just that but it seemed to also try and wipe out any information on the laptop. I think the revenant was trying to shut down all police computers, not just coms. Fucked up thing it would of worked too, basically destroying a lot of files and sending APD back to the 20th century."
"You can explain the rest of the computer speak once we get on the plane." said Ace "you are joining me at least of am I flying solo."
"I'm sure my dad would let me go, but I'm not all that keen on going to a war zone.". said Xander as he clicked on TV to the news.
Video of riot police holding back rows of protesters screaming at armed national guardsmen armed to the teeth looked across the shimmering river.
The feed cut too many people huddling together walking towards the border town; CNN even put a little a timer for the estimated arrival time.
"Ace, are you sure about this?" asked Destiny.
"As much as I am sure about most things," said Ace
"In that case, I will call up the plane and tell them to chart a flight for two," said Xander.
Twenty-four hours later, the two boys stood there among the people with little more than baseball caps and darkly tinted sunglasses hiding their faces.
…
Officially Bishop was here on assignment for his new job unofficially Black Power was neat by just in case one of the border pigs or the gravy seals didn't act out of pocket. He promised himself that he wouldn't intervene unless nonlethals looked like they were going to be deployed to the scene. Otherwise, he would try to keep himself back, but something in his mind question if he could really stand back and watch a group of refugees gets beat with billy clubs and tear gas simply for trying to cross the border for a better life.
That was the struggle for him, knowing when to act and when to be an observer to things in the world. Yet, at every moment of injustice, he felt that need to act. Bishop could feel something heat up behind his eyes before there were flashes of memories taking him back to his childhood.
Butch slammed Kelly into the locker, scuffing up her freshly pressed school blazer for the middle school chess team. "Where do you think you are going, freak?".
"Leave me alone!" said Kelly.
Butch brother Dutch "Damn Butch, pops was right; these folks do smell different."
"Go away." demanded as she tried to struggle free but to no avail.
"How about you go away back to Africa," said Butch pulling back his right arm like he was about to punch her but right before he was about to swing on the defenseless girl, a hand grabbed it, spinning him around to see Bishop face for a brief second before his light got punched out by Bishop. Dutch looked at Bishop, then at his brother before running off down the hallway.
"Around five and a half minutes later, the two kids sat in the principal's office as the school staff told Bishop and Keke had "Suddenly and without warning attack Butch and Dutch, while they were on their way to have a nice lunch together.". Bishop was already good enough at the time to heat through the door at what the principal and old Nam vet who after leaving the arm joined up in the national guard to keep own busting heads during the riots of the '70s, before retiring and becoming a principle all of which were thing Bishop had picked on with his hearing of from noticing different things from his many visits to Mr.Kent's office.
"If your kid keeps acting like a wild animal, you can keep him at the farm, but I will not have him acting like that in my school; this isn't the damn jungle."
"Thanks, Castle," said Kelly kissing him on the cheek.
"Don't mention it," he joked back.
Then it was college; at first, he was there to become an engineer, but then the scandal happened. It had all started with him snooping around Professor Middleweight to find his laptop, but what happened after he found out that his prof had been secretly making weapons for the mob changed his life forever. Bishop discovered the clues and evidence of the crime that helped bring him to justice that set him on the right track. Not just with him becoming a reporter but him becoming Black Power, even if that name still sounded ridiculous in his head.
Back in the present, Bishop gazed upon the woman crossing the river. The huddle masses follow her. The image of this conjured up the stories of Harriet Tubman leading men, women, and children to a better life. However, the bus thought turned towards the ICE vans and bussed only a few hundred feet away from him like wagons of the slave catching vigilantes of the not-so-distant past. His eyes so focused he didn't see his boss or Sammy, who was just beside him.
…
The first thing that hit Spader was of course the smell of it all; whatever chemical used in the explosives that blew out the penthouse seemed to be an industrial-grade or at least close to it. 
The bomb itself, at least the mechanical component to it, wasn't all that well put together from the way the penthouse was still holding up, minus the large hole in the side of it which Spader landed through the police tape.
He looked around for clues; if he was being honest with himself, he didn't know what he was looking for Spader was a lot of things, but a detective wasn't exactly one of them. Yet he had listened to enough true-crime podcasts to know that he should probably start. Spader nearly fainted hover when the light flipped as soon as he entered the too show, a woman may be in her mid to early '20s in a tight black dress, and a dull emotional red glared at Eric as the moonlight shined down onto her brown skin. Her voice, like her long hair, was like silk.
"I wondered when one of you would show up." said the woman "better you than the walking A-bomb, no pun intended. I'm guessing you are to investigate the mess. Here," he tossed him a small clear plastic baggy with green nail covered in some type of algae-like foam.
"One of us?" asked Spader catching the baggy, confused as he finally began to recognize the woman as none other than Tamika Lang, the head of his arch-rival company."
"Tamika?" asked Spader before the lights flickered again, and she was gone.
"I really need to learn how to do that," said Spader looking at the nail inside the baggy. The green stuff seemed to move on its own, almost like it was…alive.
Eric landed through the open skylight of his apartment to a waiting Susan setting down on a nearby chair, looking at him more like his mother did after catching him in his youth sneaking into his home after a long night out.
"What did you fine?" she asked.
"More like who did I find, would you believe if I said Miss Lang was there?"
"Wait, did she-"
"No, at least I don't think so, Susan. I doubt the bomber would wait for some random guy to fly in only to hand them a clue. My best guess is that she was investigating this too." Spader pulled out the green-covered nail still safe within the bag, " Which brings me to this little number. It looks like it might be alive. I also could smell heavy chemicals someone might have been trying to make a homemade WMD."
Susan's eyes widen. "If it's bio-related or chemical-related, then this is bigger than one person. A disgruntled ex-employee decided to mail in a pipe bomb to his boss's place is one thing, but making what could have been a dirty bomb is a whole other ball game. One that might just be out of our league."
"I'm going to have to step to the plate; with great power comes great responsibility and all that other stuff."
"Speaking of which, you might want to see this," said Susan as she turned on the tv to the news from Texas.
…
The night was old as Emilio sat on the edge of Dream Land, looking down at the pool and the woman in it. She was stunning, yet he could not tell anything else about her. Not even the clothes she was wearing or what she even truly looked like, yet he knew he wanted her.
She sat there swimming in the pool all by herself all night long, or at least what it had seemed to be all night. Things felt different looking at her like he had entered into a strange yet very familiar world. Everything was a very liminal space around her, a mixture of rose-tented nostalgia on the subject he didn't know anything about. It only increased when she spoke her voice like that of a choir but from one single voice.
"Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray
Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay
Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain
Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again.".
Emilio could hear her calling him, the angelic call of a siren. Its voice twisted around him, warping him in a self-assured comfort. He closed his eyes as the next lyric came from her lips and the air whistle passed him on his fall into the pool.
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
The water came up to meet his face as his body quickly followed, diving deeper and deeper into what was supposed to be a pool, but now as Emilio regained control and looked around, it was far too large to be anything but an ocean.

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair
And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year
Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be
Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea
While up aloft in a storm, from me his absence mourn
And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam
The shot of fear turned into horror as he gazed up towards the watery blue sky above him, the surface miles away. Then in a single glance down the shot of hot racing fear-based adrenaline turned to ice as his blood ran cold. There was no bottom, nothing more than an empty bottomless pit of inky blackness. The voice wrong out again, so near yet so far away. Emilio could feel something out there, just outreach something far too large and impossible in its shape.
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
It began to get darker and darker around him, as he could somehow feel the shape of what it was wrapping around just out of his reach like a boa slowly constricting its kill. Emilio used his lightings to flash for a second in order to see the thing. What it showed was nothing but the coils of a sea monster far beyond his imagination in scope it scales shining with a madding light in colors beyond that of men's minds. As coils grew closer and closer, it quickly became darker and darker as the song grew louder.
My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing that can console me
But my jolly sailor bold
Emilio's eyes shot open as he nearly jumped out of his soaking wet bed. He looked around
"I gotta stop fuckin drinking." He said as he turned the tv on to the news from Texas.
…
Amanda pushed her way through the crowdedschool hallway; she had woken up late and had to skateboard to class to avoid being late. Staying up all night being "a kick-ass vigilante" was something that ate up her sleep schedule. Infact between school, homework, her part time job working at a pizza shop, and being a superhero, Amanda had taken a massive toll on her social schedule in addition to her sleep schedule. To the point of her friends began to notice that she had over the last few days been increasingly absent a grew concerned. Amanda also started to feel like she was abandoning her friend. She asked cap about it the night before, and he told her "To grow a pair and bottle up that bitch shit, like a man.".At least her mother was too busy flying across the country on Business trips to pay attention to her and her newfound hobby. 
Amanda fumbled with the combination of her locker when
"You know you don't have to wear that, right?" asked Stacy Smith. Like her initial subtlety  suggested, the blue eyes flat body of the American flavor of wonder bread was the closest thing a person can be to a walking talking microaggression. Stacy was that oh so rare type of special bully that only the American education system could make. The all-American head cheer bitch of a mean girl. The type that would make comments about not being able to see Ammand when the lights cut off or touching her hair without consent only when Amanda inevitably confronted her about her passive-aggressive bullshit all Stacy had to do was turned on the waterworks or make a sad snap story post, and then suddenly Amanda was the bad guy.
"What are you talking about, Stacy," asked Amanda biting her tongue, trying her best not to say anything rude.
"You know that shirt." She said, pointing at Amanda's death-stroke T-shirt.
"What's wrong with my shirt."
"I get that you wanna have boys, but honey, you don't have to be such a pick me to get one. Sometimes it's ok to be normal like the other girls."
"You know Stacy, you're right," said Amanda faking a smile.
Stacy was confused but smiled anyway "I'm usually am."
"And you don't have to be a slut who lets the football team run a train on you to be the popular girl," said Amanda, her voice changing to an almost wolf-like growl. After a moment, both her and Stacy's eyes widened at the impact of what Amanda had just said hitting them.
"W-what did you just say." stuttered Stacy in almost pure disbelief that someone, let alone Amanda, would talk to her like  it wasn't just her. The entire hallway went quiet after what she had said
"What that you let that you are for the team?" joked Amanda at this point, rage from years of Stacy's bs spilled out of her. "Oh honey, did you think they could keep that a secret? You know what they say boys will be boys. Oh, and I'm not rocking this death-stroke T-shirt because I want to be picked. I wear it because he is a fucking badass. You, on the other hand, lock like you're queen shit because deep down, you know once you hit that wall, and not even your stepdaddy would want to touch you.". Her lip cut to a smirk, but her mind was in a code red panic. The words she just said wasn't her's. There were all things Slaughter had said when she vented about Stacy to him.
"Fucking bitch!" Stacy exclaimed, throwing a very telegraph punch that Amanda dodged with little to no effort at all. Stacy threw another to which Amanda dodged again then again. She was bobbing and weaving just how Cap Slaughter taught her. After what must of been a minute, she just stopped deciding to let just let Stacy get one hit on her to see what would happen. Stacy's fist struck the side of Amanda's head, only for Stacy to scream out in pain, falling to the ground holding her hand.
"Need a hand?" joked Amanda as she stepped over Stacy and past the crowd of people recording it. Amanda's phone rang as she walked towards the front office. It was an unknown number.
"Hello, Amanda," said none other Ace Ward.
"Oh my god, Re-I mean Ac-I mean Mr.Ward!" exclaimed Amanda
Ace sighed. "I hope you weren't in public when you said that."
"No sir, well not really, I don't think, but sir, is there something wanted? If it isn't that finds too-"
"Have you been watching the news?"
"The News, sir?"
"The sand woman is currently at or near the border ."
"I heard about, pretty cool, right."
"It can be dangerous; there is a chance someone, be it ICE, Protesters, The National Guard, or your pick of paramilitaries could start something . I'm arranging air travel for you; it should arrive at Bergstrom in the next hour; I have already notified Cap he will meet you there."
"Mr.Ward, I'm in sc-"
*click*
Amanda thought about things for a moment already figured she was in deep shit, so skipping school wouldn't be any worse by this point.
"Hey Amanda, wait up!" said Brad. Brad Wellman, captain of the football team, the closest thing she had to a crush and Stacy's ex's "You left your bookbag. It's pretty cool, by the way; it's Deadpool, right I love that movie?"
"It's act- thank you," she said.
"Hey, I'm sorry about Stacy she can be "
"A bitch?" joked Amanda.
"I can't disagree with you there, but I see you about to skip. I got to practice today, but if you wanna hang out this weekend, snap me."
Amanda almost fainted. "Um-sure." was all she managed to say as she turned back around, heading through the school doors.
Once out of sight of the school, she began to skate down the road towards the airport, her eyes wide, and so was her smile.
….
Mia gripped her walking stick as she looked across the river; the reflection of the national guard clad in their body armor and holding less than lethal weapons shimmered in the water. There was nothing truly different between what she was doing in the Middle East and what she was doing here, protecting people against soldiers. Yet this felt different; maybe it was the camera seen hadn't seen so many before all of them pointed at her. It dawned on then why things felt different. This would be the first true showing of her power that wasn't blurry new footage for the first time the world was going to meet her.
Mi sighed before turning around to face the caravan, many of which were recording her. There were even some newscasters from the United States on her side of the banks filming.
"I say this now in front of the most high and the world. There are no borders except those of man. The lands of the creator are of all things, both among paradise and among man's land. The earth is not pieces of meat meant to be craved away by the powerful; it is garden land for all people, genders, creeds, and people. There is nothing between the grounds of the global north and the global south. These so-called imaginary lines across the desert drawn up by the rich and powerful to break up a man from his fellow man are meaningless as the sand it rests on. There is no land but God's land. There is no kingdom but the one of Allah. There is no ruler but Yahweh! We are all our father's children. The action I take now is out of his will, not my own. There is no power but the ones of the creator; I am no one. He is the greatest!" Mia said, then she turned around back to face across the river, saying to herself quietly, "I trust in you, my father.".
The walking staff went into the water as the ground began to rumble. In front of thousands and televised to millions, more dirt began to rise up from under the river pushing back the water, parting the waves. Tremendous shock, fear, and jubilation went over the crowd on both sides as quietness went out as Mia began to walk between the parted river, followed by the rest of the caravan.
Around the world, heroes, metahumans, civilians, presidents, generals, CEOs, and kings saw the image of a young parting the waves. Many cried it a miracle, many watched in fear, many remained silent. 
At the edge of the American bank of the river, no sooner did Mia's foot touch the sand did the national guard moved to arrest her. Yet with a single glance, their weapons were blown away by a gust of sand. Some of the militia folks took a shit at her hitting her directly center of mass. Yet the bullet went into her body as it would to a sand pile; Mia kept walking on sand winds wrapping around her enemies, burying them to their necks but not killing them. In a matter of minutes, the caravan was on the other side of the river, which began to flow normal yet again as the refugees from South America began to disperse across the sand, some to cars, others to busses, and some on their feet. One girl with her mom hugged Mia tightly, the mother saying in Spanish
"I don't know who you are but thank you."
Mia smiled, looking down at the dirt under her feet. "I am sand. I am Desert; I am no one; The creator is all."
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