Credibility Gap: A Skye Emery: Bluebird One-Shot

 

Prologue – Mirror Images

Toronto’s Entertainment District — Friday, April 17th, 2020

The nighttime scene in Toronto was usually an eclectic hub of fun and excitement, with the renowned Entertainment District being the centre of it all. Tonight might have been the last day of the weekend before another week of work, but the entertainment didn’t seem to find a way to stop anytime soon.

As a young biracial couple walked along Mercer Street, they were approached by three criminals wearing matching black uniforms and red armbands bearing a black maple leaf and two crossed swords inside a white circle.

Before the three criminals could make their advances, a woman who seemed to be the Bluebird stood in-between the couple and the racist trio. While it seemed like this was yet another instance of Toronto’s newest hero making yet another daring rescue, it soon became clear that there was something horrifyingly wrong about the situation.

“Thank god, you’ve come to save us!” the woman looked at “Bluebird”, assuming that she was the real deal. Unfortunately, that relief soon turned into fear for her life when that counterfeit Bluebird turned away from the racist thugs and began to set her sights on the couple instead.

Whatever was about to unfold seemed to attract the approval of an unknown individual watching from afar inside a conspicuous-looking white van. 

The mystery man looked on from the view screen as “Bluebird” viciously attacked the two bystanders behind the alleyway for no apparent reason, other than what appeared to be a racially-motivated assault.

“You freeloading parasites don’t belong here!” that completely fake and evil version of the Bluebird screamed with every fiber of hatred in her voice. “You godless communists think you can destroy Canada with your globalist nonsense!?”

Without a hint of remorse, “Bluebird” attacked the innocent bystanders, refusing to let up even after the bystanders were unconscious. Once she was done, the copycat ordered for two of the thugs to join her and the other one to take a picture of their handiwork. With their attack done, the four criminals left the scene and headed back to the black van.

Noticing a couple of bystanders videotaping what just transpired with their cellphones, the fake Bluebird simply looked at them with a conceited smile on her face. “What are you two losers looking at?! Get out of my face!”

“No… no… actually, I want the two of you to tell everyone that I’m done protecting this city and you ingrates until we free it from the rats that have poisoned it!”

To further punctuate her point, “Bluebird” grabbed one of the bystanders phones and smashed it on the ground, before threatening to attack them. The two bystanders immediately ran off, fear for their lives clearly evident.

“What d’you think, sir?” the Bluebird impostor reported to her boss, a man dressed in an all-black suit with a similar red armband like the three thugs wore around his left arm. “The press’ll eat this stuff up once we leak the photos!”

“This could not have gone down more perfectly than it did, Constable.” The man, who was dressed in military fatigues, addressed his subordinate. “And the stunt you pulled with those miserable fools telling them of your new mission was just the icing on the cake.”

The superior was Oscar Hellinger, a self-styled “patriot” who, in actuality, was a neo-Nazi terrorist wanted for multiple hate crimes charges by the RCMP.  This scheme of using a duplicate Bluebird to commit crimes was seemingly an idea that Hellinger conceived on his own… or so he thought.

“I trust that you have our plans in place, Oscar.” the man, Roland Rycroft — a member of the secretive group known as the Conglomerate — began to talk. “I’ve already acquired video footage of your colleague’s escapades that we’ll run on my news site, Dawnstar News.”

Rycroft’s Dawnstar News outfit was a supposedly “prominent” online news network with a certain bias towards demonizing anyone that didn’t fit its view of a “perfect” Canada. This included declaring that immigrants, homosexuals and people of colour were allegedly “enemies” of the nation, presenting unfounded lies as their evidence. Rycroft himself was brought on board by the Conglomerate due to his status as a wealthy individual with considerable influence.

“I don’t know if any of your Conglomerate peers are comfortable with your close association with our organization, Mr. Rycroft.” Hellinger responded to the man on the view screen. “But quite frankly, I don’t really care for all of that.”

“All that matters is what we agreed upon.”

“It is a win-win situation for both of us…” the Conglomerate representative continued to speak. “My reputable news source will help deliver your Militia’s message, while the materials we’ve provided will undoubtedly turn the city of Toronto against its new golden girl.”

Hellinger let out a wicked grin upon hearing this proposition. “Once we’re done with our campaign, the Militia will cleanse this nation of anyone who dares oppose a pure and white future… and we’ll be more than happy to assist your Conglomerate with whatever it is you desire from us.”

“We desire very little, aside from the utter destruction and humiliation of the Bluebird.” Rycroft replied, his expressions taking on a sadistic turn while he discussed his organization’s demands. “Her continued prominence threatens our future plans for this country. See to it that the Bluebird suffers for crossing the Conglomerate’s wrath. Crush her spirit and then strike her down when she’s at her weakest.”

“Rest assured, we will ensure that you and your people get what you want out of our arrangement, Mr. Rycroft. You will have the Bluebird served on a platter, once we desecrate and destroy her.” Hellinger boasted to his new partner. “I thank you again for your vote of confidence.”

“Don’t fail us. We will be watching.” The computer screen showing Rycroft shut off as Hellinger turned to the Toronto Police officer impersonating the Bluebird, who was getting ready again to carry out her campaign of hate.

“It’s time we moved forward with the final phase, Constable Brooks.” Hellinger’s ambitions were growing even further. “Our ‘Take Back Canada’ rally this Thursday will undoubtedly bring more people to our cause, while you will help turn Toronto’s beloved superhero into a national disgrace, Constable.”

“Then the Conglomerate can pick apart what’s left of the Bluebird when we’re done with her.”

—

Created in a laboratory in 1995 and imbued with extraordinary superhuman abilities, Project Singularity subject SK-591 was meant as the first of an army of superpowered soldiers to be deployed in highly-sensitive wetworks operations. Dr. Elizabeth Emery, unhappy with her employers’ militaristic plans for her project, liberated SK-591 from SDI and tried her best to raise the baby with values of compassion and kindness. Unfortunately, Dr. Emery mysteriously disappeared in 2001, forcing her surrogate daughter to fend for herself in a world she barely knew for many years.

After stopping SDI’s plans to turn her into a mindless weapon of destruction, the young woman known to the City of Toronto as Skye Emery now uses her superhuman strength, speed, and endurance to defend her fellow Torontonians from whatever evil threatens them as The Bluebird! Together with her friend Finch Finwick and superpowered young sister Ava Avila, the Bluebird heroically fights the good fight while trying to find her place in the community she’s vowed to protect…

—

The Neighbourhood of Church & Carlton — Sunday, April 19th, 2020

You’d think being Toronto’s very first superhero would make things easier for me due to my growing popularity. It had been only a couple of months since me, my adopted sister Ava, and my best friend Finn stopped SDI’s plans to turn me into the first of an army of black market super-soldiers for their undoubtedly own evil purposes. All of those things I went through somehow turned me into a very public icon.

People trusted me with their lives so willingly and openly. Not a day went by without me hearing the news talking about my latest exploits or seeing complete strangers on the street recognize me by name, even when I wasn’t doing the hero thing.

While part of me felt good to be looked up to by many, there was another part of me that felt a bit uncomfortable about the implications of having this much fame within Toronto would have. There were already a few businesses looking to cash in on my popularity, though most of it involved using my name to promote their restaurants or convenience stores and so on. Even then, I had a small fear that my name would be used for more sinister purposes than to sell local business.

Oh, how unprepared I was on this day for that…

As I was walking around the neighbourhood with Finn and Ava on this Sunday afternoon, I was met by subtle, yet all-too-telling stares from people around us. No, these weren’t people looking to admire me, but rather people watching me with a hint of disappointment and mistrust in their eyes… and I didn’t know why.

Having enhanced hearing was always something I was glad to have, but it was a completely different story at the moment. My ears couldn’t help but pick up whispers of “I can’t believe we trusted her” and “Why would the Bluebird betray our city like this?”

The two shopkeepers looked at me with a particularly untrusting stare. As if they really hated my guts and now had an apparent reason to do so. “Maybe those SDI people were right about you…”

“You were supposed to be fighting for all of us… how could you turn your back on this city?” the older woman said to me with disgust.

“You’re no hero!” a random person passed by me without even stopping her walking. “Why don’t you just leave us all alone, you lying racist fraud!?”

As if to punctuate her point, she threw her can of soda at my face. I barely reacted at all, even as my face was completely drenched in nondescript soda. I was still shaken by what I was hearing from the very people I swore to protect from harm.

Even if I knew whatever everyone was saying about me right now were untrue, I seriously couldn’t help but feel ashamed. It might not be something readily obvious about me, given my whole deal of being strong enough to lift a truck over my head and whatnot, but I kinda have some self-confidence issues.

Yes, you might say it might be a bit odd for someone as super-powerful like I am to be so conscientious about their self-esteem, but it’s something that’s always been at the back of my head since my creation back in ’95. If anything, you could say having such power made these confidence issues a bit worse for me.

So, you can only imagine how I felt about people thinking I had gone bad on them — and the number it was doing to my self-esteem.

It all became frighteningly clear when I saw a poster taped onto the light pole in front of Sunny Days Variety. That poster in question? A cheaply-made one that had an image of me on it and the words “Help Me Uphold a White Future for Canada” next to it. That faked image of me appeared right next to a logo bearing a black maple leaf against two crossed swords behind it.

I dunno if it was the fact that I was being used to promote a hate group’s vitriolic message or the general message behind the poster that got me riled up most, but here I was, completely fuming in righteous indignation at what was staring me in the face.

“Oh no… how are you holding up, Skye?” Finn saw my face was boiling in anger and was understandably concerned for me.

I had to keep my rage at the blatant lies about me in check. While it would’ve been really easy for me to lose my cool and cause a scene here, it probably wouldn’t stop things from getting worse — even if there was someone out there trying to outright ruin my reputation.

I angrily ripped the poster off the light pole and crumpled it up in my hands, hardly a word leaving my mouth while I walked off. Ava and Finn followed me not long after.

—

Later That Evening…

With my mind still focused on what happened earlier, I was hoping a late night sweep of the neighbourhood would help keep my mind occupied. Ever since I became a hero, these sweeps were pretty much routine for me now. I’d spend most every night with Ava looking to see if there was any crime I could stop or people to rescue from collapsing buildings. Call it an unusual form of working out, but it was what it was.

Tonight, I was lurking about close to my home at SafeHaven — specifically, an alley near Ryerson University. I got reports that students of various ethnic backgrounds were being targeted by a gang of white supremacist thugs that were in the area. There had been a recent rash of these kinds of crimes being committed on our streets, and I was willing to bet that some two-bit fake version of me spouting the kind of nonsense these racists were peddling was undoubtedly connected to this.

I naturally was patrolling this area in my Bluebird costume. If I wanted to restore my credibility, this was the only way to do it. The people of Toronto needed to know that the Bluebird was still on their side.

Two thugs dressed in all-black outfits with red armbands around their left arm were attacking an elderly man for no apparent reason other than the fact that he was of another race. I quickly recognized the old man as Charlie Severino, one of the people from the neighbourhood who I knew on a “friendly greeting” basis. That seemed to be the case for most everyone I knew on Church & Carlton.

Mr. Severino was someone who always had a positive outlook on life, even when he found out he was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago. I always enjoyed talking to him anytime I saw him, so I didn’t have to think twice in stepping in to join the fight to protect Mr. Severino before it was too late.

Call me old-fashioned all you want, but seeing injustices being carried out on good, innocent people enraged me more than anything else ever did. I never liked being powerless to help anyone. I felt it was within my power and responsiblity to help those who had nobody to help them, no matter the situation.

Before I could get involved, I saw two other people joining in trying to stop the two muggers attacking Mr. Severino. They jumped onto the two armband thugs from behind and tried punching at them repeatedly.

I knew right away that Finn’s buddy Leo was one of the two people trying to stop this senseless beating. He was joined by a slightly-taller woman wearing a light yellow hijab. Despite not knowing who that woman was, there was something familiar about her that lingered in my heart that I just couldn’t deny.

“Toronto has no room for racists like you!” I overheard the young woman yelling while she punched the one of the muggers. “Get the hell out of our city!”

As I heard that young woman speak, I felt like I recognized her voice… but it still wasn’t becoming any clearer for me. My mind was still as fuzzy as ever. I didn’t have time to process that, however, as I was now faced with two thugs thinking I was helping their awful cause.

“Wait… nobody told me that the boss was gonna send you to finish the job!” The bulkier of the two muggers assumed that I was that fake Bluebird working for whoever was their superior. “Where are our manners? Help us show these rats that we don’t want them in our country!”

“Don’t mind if I do…” I said sarcastically before hitting one of the racist muggers with a roundhouse kick to the head. I wonder if he got a kick outta that little number.

“What the hell? You’re not our ne– UGHHHH!” the other mugger tried to threaten me before I cut him short with an elbow to his ugly face, which might’ve knocked a few of his teeth off in the process.

“See? I knew the Bluebird wasn’t evil!” I heard Leo loudly whisper to his friend. “She’d never be one of those racist nuts!”

“Leo, save the praise for later. You and your friend need to get Mr. Severino somewhere safe right now,” I looked to Finn’s best friend and gave him instructions on what to do next. “I’ll keep these two clowns busy, trust me.”

Leo gave me a shrug and had his friend do exactly what I asked him to do as the two of them helped escort Mr. Severino out of the alley while I focused on the fight that was ahead of me.

The two muggers recovered soon enough, probably deciding that they wanted to get their butts handed to them some more. I was more than happy to oblige their wishes.

They both tried to overwhelm me with their numbers, but given that they were trying that crap with someone who basically had the strength of an entire army of soldiers, you can probably guess how well that ended for them. I threw aside both of the thugs when they tried to dogpile on me, sending them flying into the brick walls surrounding us.

Unsurprisingly, these two Nazi muggers weren’t that bright at all if they thought they’d stand a chance against little old me.

You might not know this, but given how inhumanly strong I was and how most of the criminals I took down these days were of the non-powered variety, I typically pulled my punches against them. After all, if I socked a random mugger with all my strength, I’d probably kill them with that one punch, or break every bone in their body at the very least.

That said, it was a bit of a struggle not to go all out against these two random muggers spewing hateful rhetoric for seemingly no other reason other than the fact that they were bigots. I always hated bullies who thought they could prey on the innocent without consequence, and these Nazi thugs fit the description to a tee.

Skinhead #1 tried to hit me with an electrified baton, but I blocked it with my right hand before ripping it away from him and knocking him against the brick wall with a fierce kick to his gut. His buddy didn’t fare any better after I delivered an uppercut to his jaw.

“B-but the boss said you were leading the Militia now!” The skinhead I held against the wall began to panic once he realized that he and his pal were pretty much fighting a losing battle against a superhuman like myself.

“You geniuses really need to do your research next time…” I said before tossing the one thug right into his escaping partner to knock that guy down. “…’cause you must be out of your minds if you think the Bluebird would ever support scumbags like you or your Militia.”

“Tell your bosses that if I see any of you terrorizing this city and its people again, I’m not gonna hesitate to burn your entire organization to the ground. Understand?”

Given how serious I was about my ultimatum, it wasn’t surprising that those two racist muggers decided to run away instead of daring to fight me some more. I always found it incredibly satisfying to defend people from bullies. Not because of the glory or anything, but because it was the right thing to do. It made me feel like I was truly making a difference in people’s lives.

The young woman that I protected emerged from the other side of the alley and approached me while helping Leo back up to his feet. Luckily, those two thugs didn’t hurt either Leo or that young girl that was with him.

With the situation under control, I removed my mask to reveal myself to Leo and the young girl who stood with him. I figured that there wasn’t really any harm in them knowing who the Bluebird really was.

“Man, wait ’til Finn hears about how the friggin’ Bluebird saved me…” Leo was definitely hyped up by my rescue, despite the fact that I knew him as Finn’s geeky buddy. “…and wait ’til he hears that you’re… the Bluebird… Skye?”

“Um… Leo, we do kinda know each other, so…” I responded with a chuckle. “….but thanks for the enthusiasm. I do appreciate it.”

“…thank you for saving me and Leo from those Militia thugs, miss.” That young girl was also overjoyed about the rescue. “It’s just so nice to have a hero like you fighting for us all… wait a second. I think we’ve met bef…. oh.”

The expression on the young girl’s face quickly changed once she got a look at me. Seems like she knew who I was… and I’m certainly not just talking about in the “famous superhero” sort of way.

“…Skye? Is that you?”

I offered a very awkward nod before I got a good look at the girl. My shitty memories now pretty much sorted out, I knew who this was. “Oh my god. Zaida… it’s been so long!”

In the course of rediscovering my lost past before I arrived in Toronto, I learned that I once got into a fight with a bunch of racist pricks near Ottawa way back when I was like 13 years old or something. At that point, I didn’t know why exactly I fought those guys… they were just someone else that needed to be beaten up.

It wasn’t until I saw the real suffering those racists were inflicting on Zaida’s family, the Khans, that I realized the true nature of the evil those racists were pushing. Despite the aggressiveness of the crooks terrorizing them, the Khans never wavered, even when threatened with death.

I still had no clear motivation in life — other than inexplicable heroic acts that I’d forget about the following day — but the kindness and courage of the Khan family was something I was grateful for. They didn’t know who I was beyond my name, and yet they took care of me in the short time I stayed with them as if I were a part of their family.

That, along with being raised with values of kindness and taking care of others by the one doctor who literally created me in some laboratory back in ’95 seemed to inform the very fiber of who I was as a person.

“Leo and his friends have been telling me so much about you and all you’re doing for the city.” Zaida continued to cast her considerable praise upon me. “I mean, it’s just awful that there’s people out there who want to exploit your name to further their ridiculous bigoted garbage.”

“I honestly never believed that malarkey for one second, Skye. They obviously don’t know how good a person you are.”

“How are Aamir & Rahimah doing these days?” I asked Zaida with curiosity about her parents, who took me in out of the kindness of their hearts some odd years ago.

“They’re doing okay back in Peterborough.” she answered.  “They’ve been happy with how I’m pursuing my political science courses at Ryerson.”

“You guys still live on 175 Crescent Street?” I asked again, starting to becoming a bit more comfortable with talking to an old friend. “…also, do your parents wonder where I disappeared off to?”

“Not really, but it’s probably just that it was so long ago that you stayed with us. You did kinda just leave without warning.” Zaida replied to my question in a frank manner. I didn’t blame her for it. I was thirteen years-old at the time and still figuring out the whole “living my life with mysterious superpowers and a shitty memory” deal. Part of that included abruptly leaving the places I’d stay at without so much as an explanation as to why or even how.

I began to explain to Zaida about what had happened to me and what I understood about it. “It’s kind of a long story. I’ve had faulty memories of the past for a long time because of this evil genetics company creating me in a test tube and trying to make me into one of their super-soldiers. Then I found myself here in Toronto, made new friends, stopped that genetics company, and became a hero somehow.”

“So… basically, it’s been a really weird past few years for me.”

As Zaida and Leo walked out of the alley, I joined them still wishing to continue the conversation I was having with someone I haven’t had contact with for many years due to everything that was happening to me.

“‘Weird’ is kinda underselling it, Skye, but I’m honestly just glad that I’m getting a chance to talk with you again after so many years.” Zaida cheerfully said. “We never did get a chance to have that moment. You know what I’m talking about, right…?”

It took a while for me to figure out what Zaida was talking about, but my mind quickly flashed to a time before I left her family. It was an unusually quiet, cold March afternoon many years ago, but it was one where me and Zaida were having the time of our lives getting to know one another like never before.

Due to every weird thing that surrounded my very existence, I always had a hard time making friends or finding people to get close to, since I’d just end up forgetting about them down the line. None of that mattered for that afternoon, though. Our time together on that day was the culmination of the months I spent with Zaida and her family and coming to a seeming understanding of what I wanted out of life (yes, this was well before the whole Project Singularity thing, if you were wondering). I felt an attraction towards Zaida on that day, as if my heart was telling me she was “the one” for me. Even if my mind was now largely focused on the whole superhero thing, it was clear that my feelings for Zaida were still there.

What I remembered of that happy day vanished the minute I left the Khans’ house, but just seeing Zaida in front of me tonight brought those memories flooding back into my mind. Ever since I overcame the fractured memory issues that came with being an artificial superhuman, it seemed like even glancing at things or people that reminded me of my messed-up past would cause me to suddenly remember like it was yesterday.

“Oh yeah, I definitely do remember.” My awkward-sounding chuckle turned into one that sounded like I was comfortable with talking to an old friend. “That day by the lake… just having fun… the two of us. Yeah…:”

“We had good times together, Skye.” Zaida continued to reminisce about the past. “I just felt so free and proud to be myself when I was around you, y’know?”

“Feeling’s very mutual.” I let a smile break through my blushing face. Yes, those memories of a time long ago where I was just finding my place in the world were now back on my mind. 

After finding out that I was being framed for hate crimes committed by someone posing as me, having at least one person not buying into the lies being said about was more than welcomed.

“Um, thanks… I think.” I said, feeling slightly awkward and humbled at the praise that was being levied towards me. Being such a public figure still took a bit of getting used to. “It was nice talking with you again, Zaida. Good night.”

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Skye.” Zaida waved goodbye as she and Leo left me to my own devices for the night. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

I sighed to myself once Zaida and Leo disappeared from my view. “Yeah, I’m sure we will… definitely.”

—

Skye Emery’s Apartment (“The Bird’s Nest”), SafeHaven Homeless Shelter — Monday, April 20th, 2020

Catching up with an old friend wasn’t enough to get my mind off of what happened yesterday. Especially as I had a rough sleep thanks to a nightmare that I had about the whole thing.

I was dreaming that the entire city was hunting me down and I was essentially powerless to defend myself. Not even Finn or Ava were there to help me… in fact they both were a part of the nightmare mob that wanted me dead. That mob was being led by someone that looked like me, who I assumed was what my mind interpreting how that fake Bluebird looked like.

I usually tried my best to keep a brave face about the situations I got myself into due to the nature of my powers, but it seemed like the growing pressure of being a hero for an entire city and being faced with an enemy determined to discredit me by any means necessary was something that scared me, honestly. Probably moreso than being confronted by the nature of being some artificially-created killing machine who grew a heart (I mean that in the nicest way possible about myself. I know, it’s hard to believe).

Thankfully, Ava woke me up before that nightmare could go on longer. She noticed how terrified I was thanks to that dream and decided to try her best to comfort me.

“Why would someone do this to you, sis?” Ava asked me with a lot of concern in her voice. To say she was a bit shaken by seeing me painted in an unflattering manner is a bit of an understatement, if you ask me.

“It’s obvious that whoever these people are, they’re trying to convince everyone that I’ve turned into some sort of fascist sympathizer.” I answered immediately while I struggled to calm down. “I dunno about you or Finn, but I’m not waiting around to put a stop to that bogus Bluebird and the bastards that put her up to this.”

“Even if I have to stop them myself, I’ll do it. I’ll fight them all.”

I knew I was letting myself be overcome with rage as a result of all this, but could you really blame me? If you were faced in a situation where a bunch of xenophobic jerks were using an evil clone of you to promote their messages of hate, you’d probably be in the same spot as I was.

Finn, in the meantime, was deep into researching the people responsible for claiming that I supported their hateful messages, while he had the TV tuned to City-One News, who were reporting on an incident that happened on Sunday evening — one that involved a certain knockoff of mine.

“Uh, Skye.. you ever hear of a group called the ‘Canadian Freedom Militia’?” Finn looked at me while showing an entire page of news articles linking to this group’s activities in recent years. All of them were of the “free speech rallies disguised as thinly-veiled racist riots” variety.

“Apparently, these guys are a ‘think-tank’ fighting to ‘restore’ Canadian culture or some dumb bullshit like that. Though, I dunno how many think-tanks are out there that go around and kill people they don’t like.” 

“And… they think the way to do that is to persecute everyone that they don’t agree with?” I said right back. “How could anyone ever waste their lives living with so much hatred for others?”

“Beats me,” Finn replied right back. “I always saw these kinds of people as cowards who resort to bullying those smaller than them, but cower when faced with meaningful resistance.”

“They sound like the kind of people that need a good old-fashioned ass-kicking.” I flatly replied.

“Here’s their ringleader, by the way…” Finn turned his laptop screen to me and Ava, so that he could show the “face” of the Militia’s operations. The man pictured on the website was dressed in a military uniform, and was identified as “Oscar T. Hellinger”, the founder of the Freedom Militia.

“Hmm… I think I’ve heard of this guy before. Wanted on multiple terrorism and hate crime charges, but he’s always managed to slip past authorities. Last time I heard of him was when he was in Quebec trying to convince the local government to kick out anyone who didn’t speak French as a first language.”

“Seems like the kind of con artist that can sway people into his line of thinking easily…” I observed the picture of that Hellinger guy and thought about what Finn told me about him. “…and now that they want use some cheap fake version of me to spread their propaganda, who knows how many more will fall victim to that monster’s lies?”

“We can’t just sit around anymore. We have to shut these fascist thugs up for good, Finn.”

“I think you’ve got every right to be angry about this, Skye.” Finn answered back to me in an attempt to get me to calm down. “Considering that I’m probably the type of person these losers would be targeting, speaking as both a gay man and of Jamaican descent, it’s understandable that seeing them run around in this city unattended would disturb you.”

“But… we’ll need to approach this entire situation with clear thinking… and not running into any situation recklessly.”

After taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down, I listened to what Finn had to suggest about looking at this whole thing with what he called “clear thinking”.

“Tell you what… I think Leo’s planning on getting some of the tenants here and some Ryerson students to organize a counter-rally against these Militia guys tomorrow. Knowing the kind of people they seem to associate themselves with, I think having you and Ava around for backup in case things get really dicey is probably a good idea.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” I simply nodded in approval of Finn’s idea for tomorrow.

“I’ll call Leo and his friend Zaida from Ryerson to let them know that we’ll be joining their protest tomorrow.” Finn pulled out his cellphone to begin making that call, but I stopped him when I heard him mention a certain someone’s name.

“Um, Finn… if it’s okay with you, I’d like to talk to Zaida myself.” I interrupted quietly, my voice lowering a bit once I mentioned Zaida’s name.

“Oh, er… sure?” Finn replied, a bit confused about what my reasons were for all of this. “Any reasons why you want to talk to someone that, as far as I know, you have never met?”

“Let’s just say me and Zaida go way back. Longer than you might think.” I clarified to Finn, who dialed Leo’s number on his phone before handing it to me. “Even before I ended up in this city.”

“Alrighty then,” Finn said. “You seem to know your way around things, so I trust that you’ve got this handled with that old friend of yours.”

After a few seconds of silence, I heard Leo’s voice on the other end. “Didn’t expect to get a call from you right now, Fi– wait?”

“Um, Leo, it’s Skye.” I began to speak. “Is Zaida there with you by any chance? I’d, uh, like to talk to her about the counter-protest tomorrow.”

—

Yonge-Dundas Square — Tuesday, April 21st, 2020

As Finn told me yesterday, Leo and Zaida were helping coordinate the simultaneous counter-protests devised as a response to this display of hate. While Finn was leading the protest with Leo and Zaida, me and Ava snuck in among the mass of about fifty or so people who were in this march against the Militia. Collectively, Leo, Zaida & Finn’s group were a part of “Torontonians Standing Against Hatred”, a pro-diversity protest group that seemed to be made up mostly of all the SafeHaven tenants and some Ryerson students Leo was friends with.

I noticed that some of the protesters were wearing face-concealing masks, which Leo told me was to help conceal their identities so that nobody would be able to identify them in an attempt to go after any loved ones.

Soon enough, people who weren’t a part of either Leo’s protest group or the Militia all began to form a crowd around us… which didn’t make this situation any easier. If things escalated even further, these people would be the first targets the Militia would go after. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to tell them to turn away from the protests with the mass of protesters surrounding me. I was forced to just blend in for the time being, and hope things wouldn’t get worse here. 

I was already in full Bluebird gear, so I decided to wear an oversized grey hoodie to conceal myself among the crowd.

Whatever rally these Militia clowns had planned looked just as pathetic as I imagined it would be. There were a bunch of armed men in cheap looking homemade “combat armor”, looking like they were ready to do more than just protest against immigration. Others, who looked like they were part of a biker gang, seemed to act as the security officials for these people. What troubled me more than the armed men, however, was seeing people who looked to be as young as me and Finn were, being a part of this vile “rally”.

These were people still either in college or university, still with a whole life ahead of them… and they were out here throwing it all away by getting themselves involved with these hatemongering thugs. This wasn’t some complicated mind control plot. These kids were here out of their own free will, and it sickened me to see them buying into the Militia’s lies so readily.

Needless to say, it was something that made me realize how the Militia’s message was affecting young people in the worst way possible.

“No hate, no fear… no to a fascist nation!” Leo and Finn led the protesters around us to chant as loud as they could to drown out the speech that was going on right now.

Hellinger was wearing a stolen uniform of a Canadian soldier (with a Nazi-esque armband around his left arm), and had a group of gun-wielding goons at his side. That bastard had a very smug and arrogant composure going for him, as if he believed his own hysterical lies.

“For too long, undocumented migrants to this country have been stealing away our jobs and our homes from right underneath us…” Hellinger shouted out on his megaphone while his people all chanted along behind his every word.

“They think they’re better than us, to that, we say ‘hell no!'”

“My name is Oscar Hellinger, a true ‘Canadian Son’ in every sense of the word. I am proud to introduce someone who also believes in the work that my Freedom Militia has been carrying out. Without further ado… I introduce to you Toronto’s greatest hero… the Bluebird.”

Once Hellinger was done, he pointed towards a woman who looked very much like I did. She had my hair, my face, and a cheap copy of my Bluebird costume, shield and all. The Militia was really trying to pass this fake as it was actually me supporting their vile message of hate.

It was enough to make me completely sick to my stomach.

“For months now, I’ve been serving as the hero of this city proudly,” that fake version of me started with her speech. “But until the Canadian Freedom Militia showed me the light, I was blind to a danger that has been threatening Toronto from within.”

“This danger is represented by all the degenerates who are killing and robbing good honest people… which is why I have something to show you.”

Two of the Militia’s armed men pulled a guy that appeared to be a homeless person from their huddled crowd. This guy had a black hood over his head… like they were about ready to execute him or something.

“This animal I present to you today is a Jewish immigrant who moved in the hopes of starting a new life here in Toronto,” I really couldn’t believe the disgusting things that this fake Bluebird was saying right now. “Unfortunately, that new life involves taking away your jobs and stealing from you, while he begs for chance after chance like a parasite!”

“That’s why today I am proud to personally lead the Canadian Freedom Militia in purging Toronto of anyone who stands in the way of a White and Pure Canada.”

As soon as “Bluebird” ended her little diatribe, Hellinger had his men lock and load their weapons, clearly ready to turn this rally into a violent situation. The City of Toronto had laws in place to prevent these guns from being used on our streets, but these guys somehow managed to smuggle them to Yonge-Dundas Square. Either that, or they had some outside help from someone on the inside.

I knew right away that the time for hiding in the crowd was over. It was time to fight back.

Unzipping the grey hoodie I had on me, I stepped through the crowd of counter-protesters and stood right in front of Hellinger’s Militia and the woman they were trying to parade around as me.

“Okay, whoever you are…” I said with every bit of righteous indignation in my voice, pointing right at my evil doppelganger. “…this has gone on long enough. I’m putting an end to this hateful charade right now.”

“You can all just surrender peacefully, or we can have some fun while I lay a beating on you Militia thugs before I bring you all to justice for your hate crimes. Your choice.”

The counter-protesters that Leo and Zaida were leading seemed to recognize who I was, as evidenced by some of them cheering me as I made my stand against the Militia’s thugs. It felt a bit gratifying to know that the nonsense those bastards were pushing was finally blowing up in their face. Not even this bogus Bluebird they tried to parrot as me could convince anyone otherwise.

As if there was no need for the charade now that the lies were exposed, the “immigrant” they brought out removed his hood to reveal a bald man who seemed to actually be a Militia member used as part of their repulsive plans. He quickly joined his pals and pointed his own gun at me and the protesters.

“Hellinger told me that you’d come to fool these people into thinking that I’m some cheap imitation…” that twisted, warped copycat of me responded in a voice that didn’t even sound close to my own. “I’d be more than happy to beat you to death in front of everyone here to prove them wrong.”

“Come and get me then, you dollar store reject.” I taunted as “Bluebird” ran right at me full-speed. Whatever the hell she was trying to do, it really was kinda pointless, since I just sidestepped and hit her from behind with an elbow to the back once she stopped in her tracks.

Even so, I couldn’t help but notice that the fake version of me seemed be nearly as agile as I was, save for one thing: she obviously couldn’t catch up with me. She was a step slower than me and, let’s be honest… just wasn’t as well-versed in fighting as I was. Let’s face it, nobody can replicate the years of impromptu combat training I’ve had while on the run.

This fake Bluebird tried to attack me with her imitation photon shield, but my shield was just too powerful for something so obviously fake. I blocked an attempted shield strike with my own shield, with the resulting photon impact causing both our shields to fizzle out. While my gauntlet was still intact, you really couldn’t say the same for the wannabe Bluebird’s shield generator. Her weapon was sparking intensely, which caused the fake me to freak out over it.

“Look what you’ve done, you cheap imitati–OOOOOOFFF!” Bogus Bluebird’s façade was already falling apart. I’m sure rocking her world with a shield-enhanced uppercut while she was distracted by her counterfeit shield breaking helped with that, too.

Meanwhile, the college-age Militia supporters all seemed to have gotten themselves out of dodge once the fighting got going. Maybe it was the fact that they were now facing real resistance for their actions, or just that they weren’t ready for an actual fight. Before they could even make it out of the Square, however, a group of protesters caught up with them and were able to stop their escape easily.

“Finn… you, Leo and Zaida focus on keeping your protest pals safe…” I gave my friend his instructions on what to do. “…I’ve got my evil twin taken care of.”

As Leo and Zaida helped Finn round up the protesters to make sure they’d be ready to respond to any Militia retaliation, I saw more and more Torontonians crowding Yonge-Dundas Square, with cars stopping in their tracks, just so they could see what was going on. This wasn’t going to end well for them if they stuck around here, so the next thing I had to do really was no brainer.

“Everyone! You all need to get away as far from here as possible!” I looked at the Torontonians and shouted in warning to them. “This isn’t some spectator event!”

“These neo-Nazi thugs aren’t messing around, everyone! They’re going to kill every single one of you if you don’t get somewhere safe right now!”

“Impure scum!” Evil Bluebird shouted while she threw a wild punch at me (that I naturally blocked with my shield). “You try to protect these freeloading parasites… you become an enemy of freedom!”

“I’m what?” I retorted as I kicked my copycat in the gut before pulling off a suplex-like move on her (Leo’s been getting me to watch wrestling with him and Finn). “The only ‘enemy of freedom’ I see here is you, missy.”

“And for all the people you and your thugs that you’ve hurt with your toxic lies… I think it would be impolite of me not to give you the worst beating you’ll ever receive.”

With that, I continued to go on the attack against my mirrored foe, making sure to keep that pretender on the defensive for as long as I could, so that none of the bystanders would be in any danger. At the same time, Ava took it upon herself to hold off some of the Militia’s heavily-armed thugs from trying anything funny.

Ava activated her energy powers from her hands and pointed them at the direction of Hellinger’s men. “Don’t even think about comin’ after any of us… I’ve got enough energy to clean your clocks!”

I always admired how much courage she showed in these moments for someone as young as she was. She might’ve been putting herself in danger’s way, but Ava was always brave enough to fight by my side. Some might wrongfully assume Ava was my “sidekick”, but I never saw it like that, personally. To me, Ava was every bit my equal in terms of power levels. I was always glad to have someone as strong as Ava was fighting alongside me.

“Hah! I take no pleasure in doing what we do…” that other “Bluebird” seemed like her words were betraying how she was feeling about fighting me. “…but we do it because it is necessary to save this cou—NNGH!”

To say that this literal evil twin of me didn’t deserve that photon shield-enhanced punch to the jaw would be one hell of an understatement. Oh, and that roundhouse to the face. Annnnnd that tornado uppercut, too. You might argue that lifting up “Bluebird” and throwing her into one of the steel pillars that surrounded Yonge-Dundas Square is a bit overkill, but I’m sure having an off-brand version of my superhuman durability would be enough to keep her conscious so that she could face justice at my hands.

“No…. you’re done!” I hollered with every bit of rage in my voice, my punches to the fake me punctuating every word that I said. “Fascists like you think that you can just dogwhistle others into believing every hate-filled lie you spew… you think that you can destroy diversity with divisiveness… but, bullies like you will never win!”

“Because we’ll always be stronger than whatever form of hate you take. We’ll never give in to it!”

If having to keep myself calm after having to witness this farce happening in front of me was a struggle, then not letting my emotions completely overwhelm me here was another thing altogether. Not just for Not-Bluebird trying to fool people into thinking I would ever support the Militia’s repugnant cause, but for helping to endanger so many people by repeating her bosses’ racist rhetoric.

“Hold still, you cuck!” Definitely-Not-The-Bluebird angrily screamed in desperation while she continued to fail to hit me with any of her attacks. “I’ll make you pay for your virtue signa—OW!”

I gave my doppelganger a piece of my mind — or rather a piece of my elbow — by smacking her in the face with a back elbow strike to shut up her mindless ranting. I immediately followed that up with a kneeling uppercut to her jaw before charging into her with my photon shield.

Remember the whole “pulling my punches” thing? Given that my enemy here was fueled by a variation of whatever it was that gave me my strength, I’d say that it really didn’t apply here in this case. Music to my ears.

I caught one of Fauxbird’s (yes, kinda lame, I know…) punches with my hand before kicking her in the gut hard enough to make her fall to the ground. It seemed like whatever that was keeping this bootleg version of me running was starting to run on empty. That gave me more than enough of an opening to continue my attack on her.

She tried to escape my hold on her, but she just wasn’t strong enough. I promptly slammed Fake Me down to the ground once again. 

Right as I was ready to finally end this fight against the Militia’s Bluebird imitator, I saw that Hellinger was getting whoever else was left among his armed crew and having them turn their weapons on the protesters.

To make things worse, the police decided to take matters into their own hands and go after some of the protesters, assuming that they were also causing the trouble. I saw two riot cops brandishing their weapons and advancing towards a group of the antifascist protesters who weren’t even armed.

Even if beating down a not-quite-exact duplicate of myself was still fresh on my mind, making sure the protesters were safe from the Militia and the recklessness of the police was now my priority above all else. That heroic instinct was kicking in once again.

I rushed towards the riot cops attacking the unarmed counter-protesters and I pulled two of them aside with both my hands. The cops tried to pull their guns on me, but I just slapped them away before they could actually shoot at me.

“What the hell are you two thinking!?” I angrily chewed out the two cops. “Those are innocent civilians! I dunno what your problems are, but you’ve gotta be out of your minds if you think I’m gonna let you go after civilians.”

“Back off, Bluebird.” one of the riot cops threatened me. “You’ve already caused enough trouble, and these protesters are too dangerous to not be dealt with.”

“Make one more move and we’ll have no choice but to arrest you for inciting a riot.” 

The riot cops seemed like they were quite ready to do more than just arrest me for stopping their aggression against the antifascist protesters, so I wasn’t about to let this slide without incident.

I stood my ground. “Not until you leave the protesters alone. They’re here to stand up to fascist scumbags trying to terrorize our city, and I refuse to let them become targets of trigger-happy cops like you two.”

“Suit yourself, missy.” the apparent leader of the riot cop duo responded to my refusal. “ETF Unit 1, preparing to engage the suspect with extreme prejudice.”

The riot cops didn’t seem like they were going to listen to reason at all. They still had their assault weapons aimed at me, so I did the only reasonable thing I had left to do in this situation… I knocked the two cops out with double elbows to their faces. Don’t worry, I managed to hit them hard enough to incapacitate them without causing any serious injuries — though a broken arm or leg will probably make those aggressive riot cops think twice before indulging themselves in police brutality next time.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you guys…” I looked down on the two unconscious riot cops before turning my attention to the antifascist protesters I defended. “You two, are you alright?”

The leader of these protesters — a young woman roughly around my age — answered, “We’re fine, we’re fine. Thanks for your help, Bluebird.”

I extended my hand towards the young woman to help her back up to her feet before letting her dust herself off.

“Yeah, you’re actually alright.” the other protester also had some thank-yous lined up. “Nice to know that the Bluebird’s got our back.”

I looked at the two people I helped and quickly addressed them. “You guys get somewhere safe, I’ve still got some unfinished business with these jackbooted thugs.”

The two protesters didn’t think twice to find refuge with their friends. I sighed with relief that they were going to be okay before refocusing back into the situation at hand. I still had to deal with the Freedom Militia and their evil Bluebird copycat. They had to be stopped before they got a chance to turn Toronto into a war zone.

“Let’s see you save these mongrels from our purification process!” Hellinger laughed before ordering his men to fire at both the protesters and the bystanders who were around us.

Without a second thought, I leapt in the line of fire to protect the people from the Militia’s gunfire with my photon shield. Probably not such a hot idea, since I was now unexpectedly getting hurt from the shots that did manage to hit me.

I disengaged my shield and struggled to keep myself upright as I was starting to bleed from the bullets that hit me in my chest. The pain was getting tougher to bear, but I refused to give in to it. I’ve suffered worse and survived through much worse. This was nothing.

“Get back… agh… Finn… get these people somewhere safe right now!” I shouted towards my friend, right as the Militia’s soldiers were approaching us with their assault rifles.

“What about you, Skye?” Finn voiced his concern for my current predicament.

“Ugh… don’t worry about me…nngh…” I groaned through the very real pain I was feeling. “I’ll knock out this knockoff soon enough.”

I immediately recognized the ammunition that Hellinger’s soldiers was able to wound me with: Deathblow rounds, the only material on Earth strong enough to break my skin. I couldn’t think about how Hellinger managed to get munitions that only SDI’s top soldiers were able to acquire for too long, though, as I was unexpectedly knocked for a loop by a kick to the head from that fake “Bluebird”.

I could barely keep myself standing after that blindside strike from the Militia’s garden variety ripoff of me. She had me on the ropes and was coming dangerously close to killing me right here and then to fulfill the mission that Hellinger had given her. 

“Get up, you commie punk!” Fauxbird continued to taunt me as I was trying to recover from getting shot at with the Deathblow bullets by her boss. “Get up so I can make your blood flow like maple syrup in the name of all that is pure and glorious of Canada! The Militia gave me the power to annihilate all those who oppose our agenda!”

“You’ll be the first to fall by my hands, snowflake!”

“Heh…” I still managed to cough out a mocking laugh towards this wannabe version of me. “…you think I’m scared of someone who sounds like a rejected Captain America villain on steroids?”

“It’ll take more than lite-brite bullets and your oh-so-colorful vocabulary to take me down. You’re more than welcome to keep failing.”

Despite Finn telling them to find somewhere safe to be, a few of the protesters approached and helped me back to my feet, believe it or not. I wasn’t really used to being helped by anyone like this, but it made me feel good on the inside — this despite the fact that I was getting my butt whooped by an evil caricature of myself.

It was the proof I needed to tell me that I truly had the trust of the city of Toronto after these past few months of trying to live up to the example of Dr. Elizabeth Emery, the woman who literally created me. I wasn’t about to let everyone down now by letting the Militia beat me like this.

“Y’doing alright?” I immediately recognized Zaida’s voice willing me on among the protesters lifting me up. “Come on…. you can do this, Skye. You can beat that copycat!”

“Yeah, I’m working on that part…” I said while wincing through the pain. “J-just… give me a minute. I just need a little stretch.”

While the Militia’s poser version of me was busy with her taunting, I saw a couple of the masked protesters armed with steel pipes trying to engage that impostor “Bluebird”. I admire their bravery, but considering that she was essentially a blatant ripoff of yours truly, she overpowered them… for the most part.

One of the protesters was able to hit Fauxbird in her left leg, which seemed to actually hurt her a bit. I took that as a sign that her imitation version of my invulnerability wasn’t exactly up to par to the genuine article — just like everything else about her.

With Finn leading the way, a few more of the protesters (and even some of the bystanders not involved with anything) began to pick up whatever debris they could find on the ground and threw it at my impostor. It was essentially a group of many different cultural backgrounds — Muslim, Asian, African, Trinidadian, Jewish, Portuguese, you name it — all standing in unison against the Militia’s white supremacist nonsense. I’ve heard that the motto for this city was “Diversity, Our Strength”… I could honestly believe that to be the truth as I was seeing what was going on.

“NO! NO! NO! You stupid people!” that fake me was losing her arrogant composure as everyone kept throwing stuff at her. “Stop protecting that sorry fake! I’m the real Bluebird and I hate you all!”

I’ll admit, even though I was hurting like hell, it was kinda funny seeing this evil mirror copy of me getting worked up and looking pretty pathetic as she was being pelted with rocks, scrap paper, and whatever else was being thrown at her. It was like watching a whiny brat making a complete fool of themselves and throwing a very embarrassing temper tantrum.

“You’ve got this pretender beat, Bluebird!” Mr. Severino — that old man I saved yesterday and who also happened to be one of the protesters — had some encouraging words for me. “Give this no-good punk a Toronto-style thrashing!”

“Send these Nazi losers packin’ on their asses!” that young protester I saved from the police also shouted encouragement at me.

“Show ’em what The Six thinks of goose-steppin’ fascist scumbags!” yet another protester shouted out.

“Yeah, Bluebird! Whoop that copycat good!”

Fauxbird, growing even more frustrated that she couldn’t take me down, didn’t care if any innocent people got in the way of her attempts at killing me, so she just recklessly ran at me and the protesters who were helping me. Fortunately, I had enough of my powers restored so that I could fight back and protect the protesters from my doppelganger’s would-be assault.

Hellinger again ordered his men to shoot at me and the protesters… but soon found their attempts to kill us all stopped by Ava manifesting a huge energy barrier to block the oncoming gunfire.

Ava was using all of her strength to keep up that massive energy shield barrier blocking the Militia’s gunfire while I continued to fight that fascist-sympathizing fake. At the right moment, she pushed the barrier towards the Militia, so that she could take everyone out.

The blast was enough to incapacitate the armed Militia goons, taking them out of the equation. That just left Fauxbird for me to take down.

“Nice work, Ava…” I told my sister as I repeatedly avoided Fauxbird’s wild metallic pillar swings. After a Matrix-style dodge, I grabbed the pillar from my evil not-quite-twin and broke it over her back with one strong strike. I wrapped that pillar around her right away, so that she couldn’t get away from the beatdown I was about to give her.

For lack of a better term, I unleashed hell on my copycat with strike after strike after strike, ending my little combo party with a photon shield strike to Fauxbird’s face.

My finishing blow on this blatant copy caused her mask with my face to come off completely, revealing a completely bald head underneath. I also noticed some sort of vial to falling out of her jacket. I rolled forward and grabbed the glass vial, finding an unfortunate and familiar symbol on it.

It seemed like Fauxbird got her bootlegged versions of my abilities from an SDI-created offshoot of the serum that restored my powers a couple of months ago after I had briefly lost them.

There had been reports of these SDI serums being sold in underground drug rings, mostly by vulturous drug dealers who were promising that they could turn people into superheroes. This was something darker altogether, however. It was something that was an unfortunate connection to my literal creation, now being used as nothing more but a tool for some monster’s idea of trying to remake the world in their own twisted image… as if my disgust over what the Militia was plotting wasn’t pushed enough.

“I think the charade’s over, miss.” I didn’t mince my pointed words to my foe. ”So why don’t you stop pretending to be me and just tell me who the hell you really are.”

She began to laugh cockily, even as I had her on the ropes. “You naive, innocent fool. You fail to see the bigger picture. I am simply just a weapon. An instrument of destruction pointed at those who would seek to destroy our Canadian way of life!”

“But now, you will never forget that Constable Renata Brooks of the Toronto Police was the one who will end you!”

“Sociopathic racist cop with an inferiority complex…” I remarked sarcastically at Constable Brooks’s motives. “So, why even waste time trying to discredit me? Why even bother with this pathetic dog & pony show?”

“It’s because of you!” Renata ranted in rage as she pointed at me. “You keep stealing the spotlight from the hard-working officers of this city’s police department with your vigilante showboating!”

“You’re not a goddamn hero, Bluebird… and I won’t rest until I humiliate you so bad, the people of this city will have no choice but to see you as the fraud you truly are!”

I facepalmed and shook my head upon listening to the reasons that Constable Brooks was using to justify her actions. “It’s always something ridiculous with racists like you, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than that…” Renata finally stopped trying to imitate my voice poorly and began speaking as herself. “…the Conglomerate has tasked me with putting an end to your pathetic life, Bluebird… I’m not gonna disappoint them by losing to the likes of you!”

“Look, I dunno what your deal is or whoever the hell the Conglomerate are,” I quickly snapped back. “But all I know is that without your pals running interference for you, y’can’t even touch me, miss.”

My continued nonchalant dismissal of Renata’s overblown ranting seemed to anger her even more than the protesters and Torontonians’ collected response to her Nazi bullcrap. She was now in full-on temper tantrum mode, clearly unhinged by the fact that whatever plan she and her bosses had for me was falling apart at the seams. That tends to happen a lot to villains who think they can win against me.

Hey, what can I say? I just have a knack for giving the bad guys hell without even trying.

“I-if… I can’t be you…” my formerly-mirrored enemy had clearly lost it after I exposed her lies to everyone here. “Then I guess up to me to help the Militia achieve true purity by killing you, Bluebird… in front of all these groveling idiots!”

I sighed sarcastically at that threat. “By all means, Constable… go ahead and try. I’ve fought entire armies of highly-trained mercenaries, gigantic super-soldiers, psychic monsters, and even killer robots. Guess what? I’ve beaten them all. You’re just another two-bit crook for me to take down.”

“You’ve failed to impersonate me and you’ll fail to beat me… So just get this over with, and we can skip to the part where I personally drag your racist ass to jail.”

With one last burst of artificial adrenaline, Renata ran right at me one more time, hoping to make good on her boast. It’s just too bad that while her imitation version of my powers were now completely exhausted, I still had all my strength keeping me going. Helps to have a near-endless metabolism running through your veins, huh?

You can probably guess what happened next to my overconfident ex-copycat. One knee to the gut and a patented Superman-style punch (a Bluebird specialty, must be all that wrestling rubbing off on me…) to Renata’s face later, and she was left gasping for air.

“I… I can’t fail… I-I I can’t let these rats ruin Canada…” Renata was on the verge of losing her balance after that last barrage from me. “…th… this country needs me to save it from inferior impurity! For the ‘Master Race’!”

“Would you just shut the hell up!?” I hissed in anger at Fauxbird (or Renata, or whoever the hell she really was… at this point, I really didn’t care), who finally fell to the ground after one final punch to the face. “You and your ‘Master Race’ garbage are nothing but a pathetic smear on this country’s flag. A black mark whose poison will never infect this city… not as long as it’s got the Bluebird as its protector!”

I won’t lie to you, getting a chance to literally knock some sense to a hate-filled mirror image of myself was nothing short of satisfying. The Militia had been trotting out Renata Brooks’s lame imitation of me for god-knows-how-long under my nose, trying to fool people into thinking I would ever support them. So, exposing and beating the hell out of a racist copycat was as cathartic as you could imagine it to be for me.

I’m always thankful that Dr. Emery did her best to instill values of compassion and love for others in me, even if I was a burgeoning superpowered person originally created to fight wars without any free will. Mom always believed that my greatest strength was never being physically strong or anything like that, but that the inner strength that kept me going even through tough times was the one thing that made me who I was.

It was this inner spirit that willed me to stand up to bullies and to protect those that had nobody protecting them on many, many occasions. And to be honest? I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

I never really did find out whatever happened to her, but I knew that Dr. Emery would be proud at what I was trying to do here today: looking at a distilled personification of cruel hatred in the eye and standing up boldly against it.

“This sick and twisted stunt you’re pulling is over, Hellinger.” I turned towards the spokesperson for this sad display, surrounded by Ava, Finn, Leo, Zaida, and about hundreds of people who weren’t going to let hate win on this day. “I’ve beaten your copycat and the rest of your thugs have been taken down.”

“So, why don’t you just give up peacefully and save yourself the embarrassment of getting knocked around by the real Bluebird?”

“You think this ends with me, Bluebird?” Hellinger actually had the gall to mock me, even after his goon squad was out of commission. “Ms. Brooks’ impersonation of you was just the beginning. There are more people in this country out there doing the Militia’s work for us!”

“Our sword of liberty will crush all those who oppose our strength! And that includes you and your pathetic friends!”

Hellinger went for a discarded gun from one of his men and tried to shoot at me. I just yawned in mild irritation as all those bullets casually bounced off of my body. Hm, didn’t even need my shield for this. How fun.

Obviously, someone forgot to tell him that regular bullets couldn’t hurt me, so his plan went about as well as you’d expect. When that attempt to take me down failed, that so-called “freedom fighter” decided to run away like the coward that he truly was.

Before Hellinger could flee the scene, Finn ran right up to that madman and took him down with a fierce football tackle that seemed like something I’d do. I think those training sessions with me were starting to work for him.

“You deserve so much worse for the evil that you’ve brought to Toronto…” Finn was sounding quite like me as he ziptied Hellinger to prevent him from scurrying away. “…but right now, your audience is waiting for you… wouldn’t want to disappoint them now, eh?”

Finn tossed Hellinger to the protesters, who were more than happy to now bring him in as a captured threat. His men were all either knocked unconscious or apprehended themselves, and he was outnumbered by about a hundred-to-one by both the protesters and the everyday Torontonians who were here. Let’s just say that even if he wanted to continue with his racist crap, everyone here would’ve proudly shown him what “Diversity, Our Strength” truly meant.

The protesters and other Torontonians who witnessed what had just happened all cheered together for overcoming this concentrated form of hate with a united front. I couldn’t help but smile a bit at seeing what was going on around me.

“We did it!” Leo shouted while high-fiving Zaida on a job well done. “Great work, everyone!”

Finn and Ava joined Leo and the others in the celebration, but I let myself rest against the stage. The fight unexpectedly took a lot out of me physically and mentally, but I was more or less glad that we won out and put a stop to the Militia.

As I was resting, I noticed one of the protesters approaching me. It was Zaida, and it seemed like she really wanted to talk with me some more. “You look like you’ve had better days, Skye. Feeling okay?”

I replied solemnly, in spite of successfully beating up a hate-tainted doppelganger of myself. “It’s just… I dunno what else to say. I failed. I let some cheap knockoff make everyone think I was some sort of racist supervillain right under my nose.”

“I don’t deserve to be this city’s hero.”

“Why are you being so hard on yourself, Skye?” Zaida continued to talk as she sat next to me. “From what I saw just now, you’re doing fine. You haven’t failed everyone at all.”

“I know all the hype around you is making you believe that you have to be perfect in order to be the best of yourself, but Leo and his friend Finn have both told me that you work so hard protecting this city. You should be proud of what you’re doing for us. They’ve seen it, I’ve seen it.”

“Yeah…” I sighed regretfully. I still felt like shit, needless to say.

“Hey, tell you what: if you need a kind word or just want to hang out for a chat over coffee,” Zaida smiled at me affectionately. “I’m available for that, um… kinda thing whenever you’re taking a break from your hero business, Skye.”

“I’d be, uh, more than happy to catch up on lost time with you.”

“That would be marvelous, Zaida.” I responded, my spirits now being a bit lifted thanks to the kindness being shown to me right now. I couldn’t help but return Zaida’s appreciative gestures with a blushing smile of my own. “Maybe we’ll finally get that moment we’ve both been waiting for.”

“Awesome! I’ll see you Saturday.” Maybe it was the fact that she was again feeling comfortable being around me after so long, but Zaida decided to give me a kiss on my cheek that made me blush red just a bit more. That kiss was a small gesture in the greater scheme of things, but it allowed me to forget all the anxiety and fears that were hanging above my head.

I heard Zaida shout a very joyous “Yes!” as she joined two others who were in the protest group. I presumed they were her friends. Yep. She was definitely over the moon about the fact that I agreed to meet her this weekend for coffee and getting reacquainted.

I was happy that Finn, Ava, and Leo were now my makeshift family, but it was nice that someone wanted to know me better beyond the hype and endless media coverage of my heroics. I never really got a chance to connect on a personal level with Zaida those many years after I left her family, so this was something that would hopefully be good for the both of us.

“Hey, Skye…” Ava caught my attention while she and Finn came to my side. “we’re gettin’ burritos for lunch soon. Wanna come?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “There’s just something I gotta do first.”

—

Dawnstar News World Headquarters, Mississauga, ON

Roland Rycroft stood inside his office as he saw the failure of Hellinger and his Militia’s attempts to turn the city of Toronto against the Bluebird. As expected, he was none too pleased with the defeat of his assets, evidenced by his rage-filled tantrum. Rycroft angrily flipped over his desk before grabbing the short, rounded lamp from the ground and tossing it to the window.

“IDIOTS! IDIOTS! I HAVE NOTHING BUT INCOMPETENT IDIOTS WORKING FOR ME!” Rycroft snapped angrily to nobody in particular. His indignation was suddenly cut short when the phone inside the front pocket of his suit began to ring.

“Mr. Rycroft…” the voice of Jacqueline Quincannon spoke over the phone. “…I admire your attempts at trying to utterly destroy that accursed Bluebird and her favorable public approval, but your assets failed in a very public debacle. That… cannot be tolerated whatsoever.”

“Moreover, the Conglomerate’s continued affiliations with you and your news outlet are beginning to prove problematic. The TriDyne Board of Directors are not exactly open to the idea of being affiliated with Nazi extremists like yourself.”

Rycroft seemed very unamused with Quincannon’s dismissal of his company as an “extremist” operation — even if she was correct on that assertion. However, since she had control of his fate in more ways than one, Rycroft was not exactly in any position to lash out even further.

“You have left me no choice, Mr. Rycroft,” Quincannon began to break the bad news for the Dawnstar News head. “Your services are no longer required.”

Rycroft expressed outrage at the idea that he was being excommunicated from the Conglomerate. “Y-you can’t do this! I helped create your success! We both share a common goal… we both want to see the Bluebird suffer the indignity of being a par–AAAAAAH!!!”

The head of Dawnstar News collapsed on the floor of his office, screaming loudly as he was feeling an unknown pain that seemed to originate from his head.

“I will not tolerate failure. I will not tolerate defiance against me and the Conglomerate, Mr. Rycroft.” Quincannon grimly warned the incapacitated ex-member of her secret cabal of influence. “Your company will soon be a subsidiary of USNN. We completed the acquisition this afternoon. We’re in the process of purging it of the Nazi agenda you have been peddling for so long. It’s just a shame that you won’t be alive to witness it all.”

“Once the pain caused by the microchip we implanted in your skull upon your induction into the Conglomerate subsides, you will no longer be a part of what we’re planning. Consider this your severance package.”

“Wh–uhhhhhhhh– AAAAAAAAAAA! Nuh……… agh.” Rycroft could only muster up incoherent non-sentences before the squirming stopped and he was left lying dead in his office.

With his news empire now in the hands of another company, and his life brought to an abrupt end, it seemed that Roland Rycroft paid a heavy price for failure. One that he wouldn’t be living to pay in full. 

—

Toronto Police Station — Hours Later…

Before I could rejoin Finn and Ava to decompress after today’s events over burritos, there was one final stop that I needed to make. The actions of a few out-of-control Toronto Police officers against some of my friends was unacceptable, and I wasn’t going to let this slide at all.

I had Constable Renata Brooks all tied-up and ready to be brought into custody, dragging her right into the main entrance of the station.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re do–” the officer standing at the entrance asked me before I just left Constable Brooks on the floor.

“Just a little gift from your friendly neighbourhood Bluebird,” I quickly answered. “One tied-up fascist impersonating me and surprise, surprise… someone from your precinct.”

“So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a little chat with the Chief about what happened today.”

I moved past the entry gate and headed up the elevator to Chief MacDonald’s office. There was a lot of things that I wanted to say about what went on at Yonge-Dundas Square, but I was unsure on how to best approach it.

Part of me wanted to absolutely lose it in front of the Chief for allowing her officers to get way too aggressive in handling the protest, but I knew doing that would be basically throwing gasoline into a small fire.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our fair city’s newest hero,” Chief MacDonald greeted me, a small hint of sarcasm in her voice evident. “I take it with how you just walked into my office so suddenly, you aren’t here for a peaceful chat.”

“Save the condescending tone, Chief.” I got right to the point. “I think you’re aware by now that the Canadian Freedom Militia’s attack on this city was led by someone impersonating me in some sick attempt to discredit me. Well, I think you should be horrified to know that the person behind that scheme was one of your cops.”

I didn’t waste time in showing a picture of Constable Brooks unmasked as my impostor to the Chief. Though she was still largely upset at me barging into her office, it was kinda clear that being told that one of her officers was secretly a terrorist made for a very rude awakening.

“You should know that the Toronto Police Service does not tolerate anyone wearing our badge holding views that run contrary to our ethos of protecting the city of Toronto and its people.” Chief MacDonald provided a very wordy response to my claims.

“I’ll see to it that Constable Brooks is permanently removed from duty and answers for the very serious crimes she has perpetrated today. I thank you for bringing this up to me, Bluebird, but I think you should be on your way now if that’s all you’re here for.”

“That’s not the only thing I came to talk to you about,” I remarked. “it’s the conduct of the officers your P.D. sent to ‘handle’ the protest today. I had to personally get involved when a few of your cops decided that unprovoked police brutality against innocent protesters standing up to fascists was the best course of action.”

“Don’t believe me? Have a look.”

I presented Finn’s tablet to Chief MacDonald and quickly showed her the video he took of the ETF officers beating on the unarmed counter-protesters until I stepped in to stop the violence. Chief MacDonald’s face barely registered any sort of emotion, but I could tell that there was a bit of disgust on her end — at least I hoped there was.

“I… I don’t know what to say about what you’re showing me.” the Chief seemed speechless. “As I told you earlier, we do extensive vetting of all Toronto Police personnel to ensure they’re serving the public interest of Torontonians, and I assure you I will personally speak to those officers and ensure they are disciplined in full.”

“You do that,” I shot right back at the Chief’s claims. “but I’m going to make one thing clear to you right now, Chief: I’m protecting this city and its people now. If I see anyone of the ‘boys in blue’ attacking any innocent person without provocation, I won’t hesitate to protect them from you.”

“I’m glad we had this conversation, Chief. Have yourself a great day.” 

I just walked out of Chief MacDonald’s office without saying another word. It wasn’t easy to stand up to the Chief of Police like I just did, but it needed to be done. There was absolutely no way that I would ever let flagrant police brutality ever go down on my watch. Not as long as the city of Toronto was under the watchful eye of the Bluebird.

—

Joaquin’s Burrito Palace — A Moment of Calm

Let me tell you now, there’s something really cathartic about doing the right thing and standing up for justice — especially if it involves being faced with a fascist riot and being able to stop them without any significant casualties.

Constable Brooks’ worldview was twisted and warped by the Militia into believing she could “change” the world by literally being me and using that to plunge our city into a hate-ridden hellhole. And she probably would’ve succeeded if I never stepped in and put a stop to it. More than anything else, though, she was a grim reminder of what might’ve been for me if I never had any guiding influences in my life like my still-missing mother/creator or Finn or Ava.

SDI wanted for me to be the first of an army of super-soldiers meant to serve under the every whim of whatever wannabe dictator that got their hands on me. Constable Brooks’ hate-filled impression of me might’ve been a reality if Mom, Ava, Finn, or even Zaida were never there to help raise me up when I needed guidance. I was lucky to have family I could turn to when I needed them most.

Speaking of my new pseudo-family, I made good on my word of unwinding at this burrito place near SafeHaven after our little adventure. The days where me, Ava, and Finn got to just relax and enjoy ourselves without a worry in the world were few and far between — what with all my Bluebirding, Ava joining me, and Finn’s time with his boyfriend and all — so we learned to make the best of those times.

I took the time to use the Twitter account that Finn set up for me (it’s @YYZBluebird, if you really feel like listening to me…) recently as a way to apologize to everyone for what happened.

You might say that this wasn’t needed on my part, but I still believed it was my responsibility as this city’s unofficial superhero to take a stand against opportunistic criminals who wanted to take advantage of my reputation and corrupt it for their own means, despite the Militia’s attempts to use a fake version of myself to further their lies completely backfiring on them.

Even though the Freedom Militia’s little stunt was stopped in its tracks thanks to what we did, I found very little satisfaction. I knew that there were still those like them out there in this country, who were out there trying to sway ordinary people into their way of thinking — even resorting to co-opting trusted symbols to corrupt in their terror campaign against diversity. If I hadn’t exposed their little scheme, they could’ve easily used my reputation as a publicly-known superhero to increase their numbers greatly.

It angered me to know that there were people who could live their lives hating those who were different. It made me feel worse to know that I failed in noticing that people like Hellinger were hidden among us until they were right in plain sight. I hate these Pyrrhic victory situations so much.

My mind also thought back to what Renata said to me earlier… about needing to kill me for something called “The Conglomerate”. For whatever reason, I knew that there were larger things at play. If you’ve experienced the things I’ve faced, then you’d probably realize that no sane organization calling itself an ominous name like “The Conglomerate” or whatever turned out to have good intentions whatsoever.

If the Conglomerate was getting itself involved with bootlegged versions of SDI’s serums and bankrolling known neo-Nazi terrorists so openly, I knew I had to stop them the next time they were going to rear their ugly heads.

In the meantime, though, I was becoming a bit too focused on what I saw as a failure on my end by letting myself be consumed by my own hype… even if Zaida was insistent that I was doing okay. Being some kind of nomadic hero with shoddy memories for the past few years was nothing compared to what was happening to me here in Toronto. It seemed like every single thing I did was now under a larger microscope, which meant that even the little mistakes I made now seemed like the worst thing I’ve ever done in my mind. 

It was kinda like being my own worst enemy — only not as literal as it was earlier in the afternoon.

“I know you’re not exactly in a celebrating mood, Skye. I get it…” Finn took a seat beside me and tried his best to be a comforting voice. “But, I think what these hate groups don’t get is that for every bit of nonsense they try to pull off, there’ll always be people ready to stand up against them.”

“What we did today against the Militia and their copycat version of you is only gonna inspire even more people to do what’s right in the face of hatred. After all, isn’t that what a superhero’s s’posed to do? Help people aspire to be the best of themselves?”

“Finn’s right, sis.” Ava added her thoughts about this. “Even when those racist jerks were tricking people into thinking you were on their side, nobody here was buying it once they saw the truth. People were standing up to them earlier and helping us fight those guys off.”

“If everyone here in Toronto believes in what we’re doing, I kinda think we can believe that they’ll do the right thing the next time that kind of evil like the Militia shows up.”

I could always count on Finn and Ava to help lift me up whenever I felt like I was in the gutters. They understood that this was something that we needed to do our part in.

It was our responsibilities as the heroes of the people of Toronto to protect everyone, no matter what race, religion, or gender they were. They all deserved to live their lives peacefully and free from hate and wrongful persecution. I was now determined more than ever to make that a reality for them.

For the longest time, I always thought the instincts to be a hero was just some unexplainable force that willed me on, like it was something I did just because. These past few months of being in Toronto have taught me that being a hero was more than just a forced habit for me, it was a part of who I was.

Being this kind of hero for Toronto taught me how important I now was to so many people. Whether I liked it or not, I now had the weight of an entire city to carry on my back. I was thankful that with Finn and Ava helping me, as well as Zaida offering to do more to help, I didn’t have to shoulder the responsibilities of being the Bluebird alone. I was glad to have my friends helping me navigate through this whole “fighting the good fight” thing so readily. Together, it felt like nothing was impossible for us.

End

Special thanks to Philip Rice, Cat Cornett, Heather L.M.,  and E.C. Marcon for additional story input & advice.

—

While the story you just read is, of course, one set in a fictional world, there’s a frightening reality behind the villains of the story, the Canadian Freedom Militia. The Militia is a fictitious creation, but these kind of terror groups exist in the real world. The sole purpose of these white supremacist groups is to drive a wedge of fear, hatred, and ethnic cleansing in the diverse society that makes up our nation are. The rhetoric they spew is dangerous and is causing more harm to us all than we’d like to think.

In short, it’s something that just cannot be ignored any longer.

The Bluebird and her friends may not exist to help us fight back against hate, but we can follow in their example by helping root out whatever form of hate may exist in our neighbourhoods. This doesn’t always mean directly confronting these hatemongers violently, but it does mean that we should not being afraid to call out any hateful behavior that we see in our everyday lives.

It is our responsibility as human beings to not only love one another, but to also take care of each other when faced with the ugliness that hatred personifies. This is a lesson we must take to heart every day of our lives, and something that you don’t have to be a superhero in order for it to be accomplished.

I hope that this story helps inspire you to rise above hate, wherever it may manifest itself. It may seem like a daunting battle to fight on the surface, but it is one of the most important things we have to do as human beings, in order to ensure that a diverse and peaceful world is possible for us all.

We might not be as superhumanly strong or tough as the Bluebird is, but we all have the strength from within to stand up for what’s right in the face of all forms of hatred.

Marc Quill

(c)2016-2021, Marc Quill. All Rights Reserved.