"Congratulations, Vigil. You're a superhero."
Vigil ignored the sarcasm as the cables clicked free of his helmet and snaked back into the hangar's housing. "Proto's getting reports of multiple violent crimes across the Five Districts."
"No surprising after last night's display. A lot of people still channeling rage or looking for opportunistic looting. Not to mention bad blood from clashing gangs. Looks like you're going to have a busy night."
"That's what I'm here for."
"Roger that, Vigil. I'm here if you need me."
Vigil looked down at the city. His city. He recalled Qhawa's words.
It's after the act of staying awake when others are asleep. Keeping watch. Being vigilant. That's why Wayne Thomas chose the name. And now that is you if you're ready. Are you ready, Jett?
"I'm ready."
Vigil leaped into the depths of the city.
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Post-Credits
Mat threw a rubber ball against the crumbling stone wall of the tunnel. The ball rebounded back into his hand.
This sucks.
Patrol duty was always the pits, but it didn't help that he had to do it solo. Chris claimed to have a fever, but everyone knew how Chris was. He could make himself sick just by concentrating, and usually did when a chore came up that he didn't like. It wasn't like Mat was scared or anything. The other patrols were just around the corner, within shouting distance. Mat heard them talking and laughing in low tones. He wasn't afraid of being alone. It was just boring as heck pulling an eight-hour shift with only a rubber ball for company.
He threw the rubber ball against the crumbling stone wall of the tunnel. The ball rebounded back into his hand.
We shouldn't have let the Beasts drive us away from the Deep Hall. I don’t care what the elders say, that was a bad move. We should have stayed and fought.
Sometimes he imagined himself charging the Beasts, scattering them with his flashblade humming and sparking in his hand. He read a book about galactic knights with flashblades they used to defeat evil. He could run away, find some wise old hermit that would teach him the ways battle, and single-handedly storm the Deep Hall, leading his people back to the one place they found warmth and safety.
He shook his head. Yeah, may as well with for entrance to Haven Core while you're dreaming.
He hated life on the run. The Remnant was always looking over their shoulders. Always fleeing from violent confrontation. The elders were weak. They were frightened; too scared to do anything about the Beasts that picked them off at will. Leaving the Deep Hall didn't matter. They were still sheep waiting to be sheared. They were still prey.
He threw the rubber ball against the crumbling stone wall of the tunnel. The ball rebounded too fast, ricocheted off the wall behind him, and bounced into the gloom of the adjacent tunnel.
Smooth move, dude.
He took a hesitant step forward. The mouth of the tunnel yawned open, inky blackness the only thing visible within. He swallowed, suddenly afraid. There was something in the tunnel. He felt eyes peering at him. Something lay in the gloom, just beyond the range of his vision. He knew it.
A v-shaped beacon of crimson light flashed as the darkness came alive. A towering figure materialized from the tunnel as if pulling back an inky curtain. Dark combat armor protected his body, and a gleaming helmet covered his head. Mat stumbled backward and fell as the man approached, holding out a warning finger.
His voice was flat and robotic. "Don't sound the alarm. I only have a few questions."
The words tripped and stumbled from Mat's quivering lips. "Who… who are you?"
"My name is Vigil. What's yours?"
"Mat."
"Mat. I was in these tunnels not too long ago, Mat. I watched your people pass by. You looked like you were fleeing from something."
"We were."
"The surface citizens call you Tunnelers. What do you call yourselves?"
"The Remnant."
"I've heard about you. People of faith, I understand."
"Yes, sir. We try to live and worship in peace."
"But someone has disturbed your peace."
"Yes, sir."
"Who are they?"
Mat's voice lowered to a hushed tone. "The Beasts."
"What kind of beasts are they?"
"I… don't know. No one has seen them. We only hear them… sometimes. They come when we sleep. Take whoever they want and vanish. We lost dozens before the elders decided to leave the Deep Hall."
"Why didn't your elders fight back?"
"Violence is against our way. We'll fight to defend ourselves, but not to hunt and kill."
"Not even your enemies?"
Mat dropped his head. "The elders forbid it."
Vigil nodded. "I suppose that's a form of bravery in its own right."
Mat looked up angrily. "It's not brave. It's cowardice."
"Live a while longer, boy. You might find out some things. Is this your regular post?"
"Most nights."
"Then maybe you'll see me again." Vigil turned toward the tunnel.
"Wait."
Vigil paused, head turned back slightly.
"Why… did you come here?"
"I made a promise, Mat. The night I saw your people. I promised I'd come back and see what I can do to help."
"Why would you help us? We're nobody."
"Do you know the value of a life, Mat?"
Mat considered for a second. "Life is priceless."
"Then why wouldn’t I help you? Look for my sign. You'll know when I come back."
Vigils voice echoed from the darkness of the tunnel. When Mat remembered his flashlight and clicked it on, nothing was visible except the dirty, crumbling tunnel interior.
Vigil had vanished.
Mat stepped inside, fanning his light over the surface of the walls. "What sign?"
Then he saw it.