Hemorrhage 4.6
"…So, how long have you known that you possess a gift sent from above?"
I gave a small huff and smiled warmly. A correctly calibrated smile is an art form in its own right — one that demands hours of deliberate practice. For someone unprepared, producing anything that reads as even remotely natural is nearly impossible, and it takes many more hours before it begins to look halfway convincing. I had to spend several months working with an acting coach just to get a handle on the basics.
And holding that smile under the crossfire of a dozen cameras, banks of stage lights, and hundreds of eyes pulling at you from every direction — that's an entirely different matter. What it demands most is mental readiness, a steadiness of spirit, so you don't crack at the wrong moment.
By now, after countless shoots, I was used to it. But the early days of my professional acting career were something else. To keep myself from slipping at an inopportune moment and losing face, I had to consciously regulate my own blood pressure and heartbeat through my ability.
"Hmm, that's not a simple question." I put on a thoughtful expression, frowning slightly and letting my eyes drift upward, as if trying to reach for a distant memory. "I suppose the power has always been with me. For as long as I can remember, there was always a feeling of something extraordinary — something almost otherworldly — lingering at the edge of my awareness. But it truly awakened, in a full sense, somewhere around the age of six."
The host nodded along with understanding, exactly as the script called for. Every gesture he made, every tilt of his head, every carefully placed pause had been planned, rehearsed, and approved in advance. All that remained for us was to perform the scene convincingly enough that the audience would believe it.
"But tell me — could you describe what it's actually like to have these gifts?" the host continued, moving to his prepared questions. "To be able to crush stone with your bare hands, to perform what can only be called miracles from the old myths?"
This one couldn't have a pause — any hesitation here would read as either self-doubt or false modesty, so I needed to come in quickly and with as much confidence as possible.
"You know, it's difficult to put into ordinary words." I leaned forward slightly and began to gesture with my hands, drawing the audience's attention in. "On one hand, yes — these abilities, these powers, give you an indescribable sense of your own significance. Of being chosen. But what is the point of them, in the end? I have no need for extra money, or fame, or attention — those things can be obtained through far simpler means. All I want is to help people. And however difficult or dangerous that might be, I will do what is right."
The studio erupted in applause, and a smile spread across the host's face.
"Well, in that case, your actions can inspire nothing but admiration," he said with conviction. "Very few people are truly capable of genuinely heroic deeds — let alone someone as young as you. I'm certain that if more heroes were like you, we'd have far fewer problems in this world."
I simply nodded and gave a small shrug.
"I only did what needed to be done. When people need help, I'll do everything in my power to give it to them. Besides — the paramedics and doctors are the real heroes here. They saved many times more lives than I did, and they're the ones who deserve the gratitude."
Right on cue, another wave of pre-arranged applause.
*Can we wrap this up already?*
I enjoy filming new episodes of my own series — genuinely. But everything surrounding it is barely tolerable. I give it everything I have, because I respect the work that the directors, writers, makeup artists, and everyone else put in. But I get no pleasure from the process itself.
On top of that, it irritates me that editing cuts and distorts most of what I actually say until it's unrecognizable. A small thing, in the grand scheme. Still unpleasant.
All this praise sits wrong with me. I never wanted fame or public adoration. Especially not now — not when people are calling me a hero for saving lives during a disaster I was, in some sense, partially responsible for.
I wanted nothing more than to stop the endless cycle of suffering and experimentation that Vought had built. And what did I actually accomplish? Nearly every escaped patient was recaptured. Some of them were dead. Others had only condemned themselves to worse suffering than before. I don't bear responsibility for their choices — but if it hadn't been for us, perhaps no one would have died at all.
Thoughts like that help you understand the logic behind our Butcher's more unhinged decisions.
I pushed the thoughts aside and returned to the work in front of me. Self-examination could wait — until the shoot wrapped, and until I had handled Ezekiel and his church. What mattered right now was the job. Because if this could be resolved peacefully, then at least some of the losses wouldn't be entirely in vain.
"Since we're on the topic — could you perhaps lift the veil of mystery for us and say something about your power?" the host asked. "I'm certain millions of viewers are dying to know. Apparently there's already quite a collection of theories about you circulating online."
This time I smiled more broadly, while letting something unreadable settle into my eyes.
"Personally, I think certain things are better left as secrets — the more you talk about yourself, the larger your pride grows. And to me, humility is one of the most important virtues a person can have. The Lord granted me these gifts, but I see no reason to walk around boasting about them. I was born with these abilities. There's nothing to be proud of in that — at the core of it, I'm still just an ordinary person. My real achievements are the help I've given and the lives I've saved through my own mind and hands. Because even a healer with gifts granted from above still needs a proper medical education."
The host laughed briefly at the small joke, then steered things back toward where he needed them to go. I knew his next words almost verbatim, which let me gather myself completely.
The decisive moment was approaching.
"With that in mind, I would love for our viewers to witness these true miracles firsthand," he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "If you're willing, of course. We've brought people onto this program who genuinely need your help."
"Of course," I said calmly. "Who am I to refuse? Helping others is what heroes do."
I was privately relieved that the more interesting portion was finally beginning.
What followed was the planned performance. First, to applause, a young woman of around twenty walked out to join us. She moved with a slight limp. Quite pretty — she was dressed in a pale yellow sundress printed with sunflowers, which gave her the look of someone who'd just stepped off a farm somewhere. Such were the particular requirements of the channel and the agreement with Ezekiel's church — every person selected had to be chosen so as not to provoke any of the congregation, and to build around me the most "wholesome" image possible.
Though it wasn't only the church I was performing for today. This was one of Vought's flagship channels — prime time, peak viewing hours, when families gathered in front of their screens. Popular mainly in the most religious states, but that still meant over a hundred million people watching.
Absolutely insane.
Since everything had been arranged in advance, I already knew her case without needing to examine her. A condition rare for her age — a severe varicose disease affecting the vessels of the lower extremities, visible even to the naked eye. The ability to visually observe the illness had been one of the primary selection criteria. There were more dangerous conditions I could have addressed, but the producers and creative team needed a compelling image.
Because of the disease, every step the girl took caused her sharp pain. When she reached us, she told the host the story of her life and her struggle with the illness. Her account was genuine and piercing, without a trace of performance.
For all the staged moments happening just off camera, ordinary people like her were rarely touched by any of it. Directors and creative leads in these kinds of programs prefer real people. No matter how talented an actor — the emotion simply isn't the same. And few screenwriters can craft a story as brutal as real life.
There's also the fact that audiences react badly when they discover the people on their favorite programs are all just actors. It can hit ratings hard, and some shows have been cancelled for exactly that reason.
The ratings were of no real interest to me. I simply wanted to help her. But to make the healing all the more striking, I had already activated my ability and prepared for the procedure in advance.
When the young woman finished her account, the host described what was about to happen. Following his instructions, she lay down on a specially prepared couch, closed her eyes, and began breathing slowly and evenly, trying to calm herself. She had been told about this days before the shoot, but the nervousness still showed in her eyes.
Not wanting to prolong her discomfort, I moved forward and began the treatment. The cameras locked onto me as I approached the couch, closed my eyes, and began moving my hands slowly above her body. There was no real technical reason for the gesture — but it lent the theatrical air of mystery that the producers and creative team had asked for.
Then I began to narrate aloud — describing her condition, the severity of the illness. She had signed a release allowing her medical details to be discussed, so I simply recited the text I had already memorized. *All right — time.*
For several minutes I guided my hands slowly over the affected areas of her legs, while the cameras captured the dark, distended veins gradually returning to a healthy color. It wasn't the restoration of a lost limb, by any measure — but we were counting on a strong promotional campaign, the uniqueness of my ability, and the sheer volume of people I would help. My evening was going to be a long one.
When I watched the woman begin to smile — and then start walking across the stage, even breaking into a small, delighted dance — my own smile became genuine for the first time all evening. It hadn't been easy. But the result was worth it. It was worth every ounce of effort, every endless training session, every year spent working toward this moment.
"…And I'll say that this is only the beginning of our program tonight!" The host gave the young woman room to enjoy the freedom of moving without pain, but the show had to go on. "Next, please welcome a veteran — a man who once followed in the footsteps of the Great Soldier and defended our country from the enemies of freedom, democracy, and our sacred land. He was left disabled in service of our lives. But tonight, everything may be about to change…"
I kept the smile on my face while I turned my attention to checking his system. No complications. No underlying disease. Good. The first patient was done — a few more still to come.
As it turned out, agreeing to film here wasn't such a bad idea after all.
***
When I finally walked out of the studio pavilion, my first instinct was to head straight for the greenroom. But standing right outside the entrance, arms spread wide and wearing his signature radiant smile, was the white-haired man himself. Ezekiel received me as though we had just triumphed over the Seven together.
Beside him stood an equally smiling Margo, phone in hand, waving in my direction. Judging by her bright, animated energy, she was thoroughly pleased with the shoot.
"See! *There* it is!" she exclaimed. "You can do it when you want to! And I didn't even have to spend an hour chipping away at you to get a decent performance out of you!"
"My thoughts exactly!" Ezekiel added, seizing the moment in his characteristic fashion. "A wonderful performance — one I'm certain will give our ratings a significant lift and bring some much-needed calm during this difficult period."
I gave a quiet huff and let the praise wash over me. After a long stretch of work, it was, in its own way, fairly pleasant to receive.
"Seems like it's all a matter of the right motivation," I remarked, with a faint, tired smile.
"Exactly so — and I remember our arrangement well." Ezekiel gave a knowing nod, indicating he'd caught the implication. "I've already spoken with my friends at the Embrace, so you can count on it — the next program will be even better. I'll be honest with you: I never would have thought of working with sick children from across the country on my own. The exposure we'll get from something like that… Trust me, in a year or two — once you've finished your studies — there will be an invitation to the high tower. The Seven have needed fresh blood for a long time."
An unexpected proposition, to say the least.
Becoming part of the team of the greatest supers on earth… I wasn't even sure what to think about that. Patriot, Maeve, and Noir were among the heroes I genuinely respected — people who actually saved lives and helped people — but I couldn't say the same for the rest of them.
Marathon was getting on in years and was actively looking for a replacement. Lamplighter and Translucent had never impressed me. And the Deep read more like a marketing exercise — a corporate move to deflect environmental criticism — than a genuine hero. He wasn't particularly powerful, his ability to speak with fish was of questionable use, and nothing about his interviews had ever shown anything interesting.
Indira had also mentioned, in passing, that during his time at Godolkin he hadn't even cracked the top five. Not in power. Not in popularity. Not in intelligence.
Which said quite a lot about the reputation of this world's answer to the Justice League.
"I think that conversation is a long way off still," I said, choosing to redirect the topic rather than wade further into it. "I still have to finish university, and after that I might actually try to get into Godolkin. But I'll figure that out as I go. For now — I'd like to celebrate my first performance in front of a hundred million people, and discuss how the next appearance at the charity will be structured." I paused for a beat. "Between us — Victoria Newman herself made an interesting proposal. I promise you: what we do there will change everything."
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