CHAPTER 147: PROVERBS

"Did you see the look on that Eris bitch’s face!? Hahahahaha! I don’t get why they put the McNamaras on such a pedestal when they do nothing but shout orders around. What if they had a sore throat? Or they’re fighting deaf villains? Then they’d be useless!"

Eaglette kept on cackling as she flew back to the Fiery Cross’ HQ while carrying Bison with her talons.

Her appearance does not match her high-pitched voice that was like the human version of a chick chirping. Which was exactly like the real American bald eagle.

The sound that people often associate with the national bird was actually that of a redtailed hawk. Its real call was much more disappointing.

Same with its behavior. As elegant and regal as they appear, American bald eagles can be seen scavenging in garbage or wreaking havoc just for the sake of it. They behave more like pretty seagulls.

"Mm..." Bison just pushed out smoke from his nostrils in agreement.

He was like a reverse-minotaur, with his head and torso being that of a regular human, and his lower half that of a bison. But he also had horns and thick, knee-length hair that was more like the hide of the animal he was named after, and a tail swatting at flies that often approached his furry hair and legs.

Out of the battlefield, Bison seemed like a quiet and reserved man. But just like his animal counterpart, his behavior when enraged was highly unpredictable.

He had not only gored enemies...

But when not watched after, he will also cause some... ’civilian casualties’.

That was why he never got assigned to any solo missions since his first one. And that first one was magically removed from the records and never spoken about by any news outlet ever again.

"I mean, there’s six of them, and they couldn’t finish even one villain?" Eaglette continued to gloat. "That’s why taking in any hero lower than S-rank is a stupid decision for any company. They pay so much wage for what? Most of them handle paperwork anyway."

She elbowed the man flying beside her.

"Isn’t that right, Raphael?"

Paragon did not respond to her question. His blinding smile was gone, and there was an empty expression on his face.

"Raphael?" Eaglette called out again. "Uh... You ok?"

Bison made a gruff tone, which seems to tell her to not push it.

Paragon just looked down at the many buildings and skyscrapers under him. "He’s not there."

Eaglette blinked dumbly. "Uh... Who?"

"Mm." Bison grunted again, his second warning.

Paragon’s blue eyes slowly grew a golden ring, and then...

He scorched a hole in the street, narrowly avoiding a random mother pushing a stroller. "Ahhhh!!!"

Paragon’s voice and expression remained empty. "I only took this mission... Because I thought he would be there. How long are they going to keep him locked away in that tower?"

Eaglette screeched. "Uh... A-Are you talking about that Hermes guy?"

Bison grunted in disappointment that it took her this long to realize. He made a shush signal to Eaglette.

Eaglette finally listened to his advice, and just let the golden man speak.

"It’s all Liberty’s fault... She pushed him too hard." Paragon muttered to himself. "I waited so long to finally show myself.... For us to meet. I watched him spend his days with those... Those ants. Those creatures that are beneath him."

BOOM!

He zoomed into the air like a comet, and landed on the Fiery Cross’ 100th floor by crashing through the window!

"Raphael, calm down!" Eaglette called out, hurriedly flapping her wings to catch up to him. "Y-You’ll see him again soon! They can’t keep him on the bench forever!"

Paragon looked at the cylindrical canister displayed in the center of the table. There, floating in the liquid...

Were two fetuses. One whole, one malformed.

"What was it like?" He asked the canister. "What was it like.... to talk to God?"

The being in the canister did not answer.

He turned, walking in strides at the hallway of the 100th floor. There were portraits of different men in uniform. Not hero uniforms— but soldier’s uniforms.

There was one from as early as the foundation of this country. Then, another from the First World War. Another for the Second. One during the war with Vietnam. And...

Finally, one from the recent war in the Middle East.

He was younger in this picture. Only 14. But it was the same caramel brown hair, caramel brown eyes. The gentle face. The gentle smile.

But Paragon knew in his heart what he was deep inside, as he looked at his own reflection in the glass.

[Eirwyn Curacio 1997-2025]

[The 9th Soldier]

If one would check the dates written under each name, one would realize that none of them reach past 30. Such was the fate of the Soldier.

"You are the most fortunate." He said to the 9th Soldier...

And kept on walking.

He eventually reached the office of the CEO of the Fiery Cross. It did not look like an office at all. Instead, it looked like the inside of a small chapel.

There were some pews, and an altar. He can see a bald head at the farthest one.

He approached it, and bowed his head. "Reverend. I have a request."

The Reverend looked up at him, his wrinkles creasing as he smiled. He was a man in his 60s, with a hairless face and body wearing a sleek black cassock.

"Of course, Raphael. What is it?"

"I want to apply for the Golden Apple again." Paragon said plainly.

The flames of the candles flickered a little when he said that, the room dimming a little. But the Reverend remained smiling, as shadows were cast on it.

"Raphael, I understand your eagerness. But remember Proverbs 21:5." He said cryptically.

Paragon nodded. "The plans of the diligent lead surely to abundance, but everyone who is hasty comes only to poverty."

He then added, with some pain in his usually apathetic voice. "But Reverend, I am already in poverty. A poverty of the soul. I could not endure it any longer, not being able to come face to face with Him."

"Son, He is always with you." The Reverend placed his hand on his shoulder. "But even the sun waits for dawn. There is always a right time, and a right place. Such is the Divine Plan."

"And the Devil?" Paragon asked.

"Shall be vanquished accordingly." The Reverend smiled. "Now... Will you join me in my prayer?"

Paragon knelt down, bowing his head. But as he looked at the cross in front of him, he could only see one face superimposed into it.

The face of Hermes Potentia.