3.1 Those Above the Law

“Hmmm… My second day as a monster.”

Back and forth, back and forth, I stirred my cup of chamomile tea as I inhaled its relaxing fumes.

Don’t hit the sides, don’t hit the sides, I continuously chanted in my head, timing each stroke of the spoon with a syllable.

Rule #1 mandated that I stir any liquid back and forth instead of in the usual circular manner. Nothing scientific about it. Dad stirred his coffee this way, one of my earliest memories. Pretty kid me decided it was going to be my first Rule.

My phone vibrated, interrupting the news I was watching on it. ‘January 21, 2020, 6:57 a.m., Sunrise, La Esperanza City, California’, the alarm notification popped up on the top of my screen, covering the mayor’s face.

I paused the video, took my cup, and walked to the window walls overlooking the West Coast. It was a sort of mini-ritual to watch the sunrise. Not really a Rule. However, I couldn’t see the sunrise from here because it was on the east. I had to go to the other side of the building for that. Too lazy to move my nonexistent ass. The view was awesome here anyway.

An ominous jagged tower protruded from the blue blanket that was the Pacific Ocean—the Black Spire. It was the spinal spike of a gargantuan monster that renovated the West Coast by sinking hundreds of square miles of land, including the people on it, into the ocean. Its top part caught the sun’s rays. The shadow cast by the Black Spire continued traveling across the ocean in the light's stead.

Stories about ghosts emerging from the waters in this area were common. After all, the Black Spire was the remains of an Adumbrae Titan. Could it radiate some bad juju? Probably not. Tourists would sail around it sometimes. The government wouldn’t allow people close to it if it weren’t safe, right?

Enjoying the serenity that I monopolized, I took small sips of my tea. A faint reflection of my innocent-looking face—handy for blending in—stared back at me off the otherwise transparent glass.

“How can someone as cute as me be a monster?” I asked.

No one answered. I was all alone in the cafeteria.

At the start of my first semester in law school, the cafeteria was the prowling grounds of wide-eyed freshmen. Come early enough in the morning, and one could set up a pretentious study nook with stands to cradle thick law books, a whole platoon of highlighters representing all the colors of the rainbow arrayed like ammunition for artillery, a laptop to the side that wouldn’t be used, and stacks of printed notes.

Fuck the trees. Law students responded to the call of nature to use highlighters and loudly flip through pages to display how hardworking they were. Writing down notes helped with memorizing them; I could attest to that. I didn’t use highlighters, though—Rule #18. A waste of time highlighting a line. Just read those words and move on.

I didn’t like studying if there were lots of people around, so I avoided the cafeteria back then. After a while, my fellow 1Ls noticed that the upperclassmen didn’t study in the cafeteria. They immediately left after eating.

We soon learned one of the campus legends—whoever studied in view of the Black Spire wouldn’t graduate.

“Wait, did you curse me?” I asked the Black Spire in the distance. “If I got caught and executed before my graduation, then yeah, I guess the legend is true.”

Consequently, everyone came to the cafeteria only for lunch or coffee, studying elsewhere. A week into the second semester, this was my own private study area in the morning before the food service people came in to set up for lunch. Law students were some of the most superstitious people on the planet, though the Black Spire thing wasn’t that far-fetched considering its history.

Anyway, that wasn’t one of my Rules, so here I was while everyone else packed into the library.

I returned to the video I was watching. I should be studying for my first class this morning, but I had to make sure there was nothing about me on the news. Just being prudent. Proud of myself.

Mayor Minnows, who I’d like to call Mayor Fish, flanked by the city’s chief of police and other important-looking people with somber faces, spoke to half a dozen microphones arrayed in front of him. “We commend the men and women who gave their lives to protect the people of this city. Without their ultimate sacrifice, more lives would have been lost…

Sixty-three dead, including four cops—this was the death toll. For now. Dozens more people were injured, many of them critically. If things had gone differently, I would’ve been part of that statistic.

I recognized the cop who saved me from Baggy Overalls among the pictures displayed by the news, labeling them as ‘Heroes’. It was mentioned that an Adumbrae killed her.

Partly Accurate. In truth, it was a different Adumbrae who did it.

Yours truly.

I checked other news channels, even the smaller ones. Nothing about me. Also, nothing about the two people I killed in Marsh Row. Even if those guys were found, there’d be no way to connect them to me. So far, I was safe. I should keep it that way. I could do like once a month messing around. Or I could go up the mountains and destroy stuff there with my super strength. I was just itching to test out my superhuman body.

This is how the Adumbrae gets people, I thought.

An inexplicable feeling of power. And freedom. Sickness, injuries? Those were nothing. The wound on my palm where Beanie Twig shot me was gone after several seconds. Too bad that I didn’t save the second bullet my body spat out. I was in a hurry to move those two corpses, and I couldn’t find that tiny thing in the dirty alley.

I had self-control, didn’t I? Way more than a normal human. If the Adumbrae talked to me next time, offering more powers or whatever, I’d refuse it. Simple enough.

I pressed play on a video that caught my eye. It was titled ‘Americans Demand Corebrings Return.’

“In the aftermath of the shocking Adumbrae attack in La Esperanza,” said a reporter with a permanently raised right brow, “calls for allowing the Corebrings into the country resound once again.”

“Allowing the Corebrings access?” I snorted at the dumb statement.

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If Corebrings really wanted to stroll around the United States, no one could stop them. It's just that the Corebrings had more important things to do than participate in messy American politics. The president won on the promise of the government handling Adumbrae problems without any outside help, including from the Corebrings. Sovereignty, self-sufficiency, standing on our feet, stuff like that. And so, the Corebrings just focused on saving other parts of the world.

To be fair, the government was doing a good job. The Bureau of Interdimensional Defense, the BID, was established. Their juiced-up agents, augmented with machine thingies, became the superheroes of the country. No need to rely on non-humans, according to the president. Many people didn’t agree and would pounce on every Adumbrae attack with a large number of casualties to prove their point.

“Come on, keep the Corebrings away,” I groaned, watching protests in different cities. “I have enough problems now. I should read up for fucking class.”

An hour to go before International Law. Too bad they didn’t cancel classes today.

I was reading the fifth case of the batch assigned for today's class when my phone buzzed again. A text from Deen asking me where I was and that we should go to class together.

As part of not being bothersome under Rule #4, I had to be pleasant with everyone by default. I could very much claim that every single one of my classmates thought of me as their friend on some level because I was nice and very inoffensive. I didn’t think of them the same way, obviously. And I always stopped short of joining a close-knit circle of friends—the way to be friends with everyone was not to be close with a select few. More importantly, it required much effort to be a close friend, as I understood the role.

But for some weird reason, Deen thought of me as a close friend. Her best friend, even.

There was something wrong with that woman.

I sighed, texting back, “Good morning. I’m at the cafeteria.”

I checked my look on my phone. Timid-nerdy-girl face in place. Thank the Mother Core, I was able to buy a replacement fake glasses for my law school face.

Face, not mask.

All of my faces were real for every person I tailored them for. Calling it a mask implied I was hiding something beneath, that it was something to be taken off, and that the person viewing it would know in the future what I was hiding. But the person I made a face for would never know what was on the other side. As far as they were concerned, what I presented to them was real.

My current face was to make me look as unthreatening as possible to the enormous egos of law students, female law students especially—an important factor in being friends with everyone.

“Erind?” Deen’s head poked through the doors of the cafeteria. “Yoo-hoo, Erind.” When she saw me waving at her, she swung open the door and strode in.

Amber Deen Leska, the super-rich Leska family, was the poster girl for the A-type personality, and there were many of those in law school. Immaculate blonde hair and makeup—how she found the time this early in the morning, I had no idea—and dressed too formally for a law school class. She wore a navy-blue skirt suit over a pristine white camisole and black heels with sharpened tips that wouldn't look out of place as an exhibit for a murder case.

In contrast, I was in my usual attire of shirt and jeans. Overly casual clothes while going to the prestigious Cresthorne College of Law signaled non-conformity and a hint of rebelliousness. A dab of personality injected an interesting tidbit into my otherwise diminutive persona. And I looked very non-threatening.

I did bring along a blazer for classes with strict professors who wanted everyone to dress as if we were going to court—they couldn’t see I was wearing jeans under the table anyway.

“Hi, Deen.” I waved at her.

People usually called her Amber. Most weren't aware of her second name, Deen. A likely play on Aberdeen, as she had mentioned she had Scottish ancestry somewhere. I called her by her second name to set myself apart from others and make an impression on her, making it easier to be her friend. My plan worked a little too well, and she got attached to me like a chick imprinting on the first creature it sees.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Deen rushed over and hugged my head, pressing me against her well-endowed chest. She was literally rubbing against my face what I didn’t have. If I had her body, it’d be very easy to manipulate men.

“Relax. Can’t you see that I’m fine?” I said, untangling her arms. Careful not to use superstrength. “I didn’t even see any Adumbrae. The moment I saw people running, I did too.” I shared the same story that I told Mom.

“I was so worried! When news spread about the attack, I recognized the station. It’s still closed today, isn’t it?”

“Yep. I had to take a cab to the next station, ride the train, and then take a cab to get here. Wasn’t able to find the time to buy a new bike. The foldable ones were out of stock.”

“You should’ve told me. I’m just one call away, and I would’ve picked you up. Don’t be shy next time, okay?” She hugged me again.

“Hey, cut that out.” I pretended to fail pushing her away. “I know you’re just messing with me.” I’ve told her several times before that I hated physical contact from anyone. I barely hugged my own mother.

“Come with me to the hair salon next time.” Deen stood up and tugged at her blazer to straighten it.

“How many times have I told you that I’m content with just combing my hair with my fingers?” I demonstrated it with a flair. “Voila! Hairstyle. No one’s looking at me.”

“I didn’t mean that.” She picked a few strands of my hair. “Some are graying. Instead of just a black dye, what if we color it with…”

Deen’s voice zoomed away as my attention focused on the gray hair. I barely ever had gray strands, much less white ones. As an Adumbrae, I was supposed to be locked in my age. Eternal youth. Well, if twenty-three was considered youth. What was this hair supposed to be then? I would’ve noticed it when I checked my look in the mirror before leaving the condo.

Was this another mutation? I wouldn’t think this was a big deal before. However, as an Adumbrae, I should watch out for any changes, no matter how small.

“Why do you always choose to study here?” Deen asked, changing the topic. A gray hair was just a normal thing, after all. “How I wish societal pressures of irrational traditions didn’t bind me."

“Silence is very conducive to learning. Ah, you mean the urban legend?” I jerked my thumb towards the Spire. “I know you don’t believe that nonsense.”

“I don’t believe it. Not entirely, anyway. But—”

“But it couldn’t hurt following it,” I finished. That was what people here always said.

Deen grinned. She was replaying our usual conversations. “Let’s go. Class starts in twenty minutes. I must confirm with Adrian my understanding of the third case assigned.”

“Patterson v. Washington State? Twenty minutes to discuss that? You just want to talk to Adrian.” Deen and Adrian, both rich and very good-looking. They were meant for each other. But if this was a romcom or something, Adrian would notice me, the plain girl, and fall for me. Yuck. Adrian was too generic of a leading man.

“Nu-uh. It’s a complicated case, especially how it shaped the modern transformation of the ‘humanity above all’ principle.”

“Everyone’s making it more complicated than it should be. The main point is… there’s no point trying to sue—”

“The Corebrings? The superheroes saving humanity?”

“—the people who can grind cities to dust.”

Deen laughed at what she thought was a joke. Most people assumed I had dark humor when I said what I had in mind. “You can’t answer the bar exams with that,” she said. “Come on, let’s go already.”

I didn't want to rifle through my closet of faces earlier than I had to, but appearances had to be kept. Mingling with the student body was a mandatory part of upholding normalcy. It was also needed to keep my face updated. As a consolation, observing people interact with each other was enjoyable, especially law students.

Resigned to my fate for the day, I packed my things. First day in school as a monster.