Chapter 13 — The Quiet Life of Derek Davidson
For the first time in a long while, there was no fighting.
No government facilities.
No superheroes.
No investigations.
No Phase Two.
Just Derek.
Inside his small apartment in the slums of Metropolis, Derek sat comfortably at the table, eating his food and drinking a glass of water.
His villain identity, Transition, was nowhere to be seen.
Nobody in the neighborhood knew that Derek Davidson was the same person the superheroes had been desperately searching for.
To everyone around him, Derek was simply a quiet 21-year-old man.
He drank his coffee and looked out the window.
"Finally… peace."
Derek had stopped looking for trouble.
If someone outside was being robbed, attacked, or threatened, he wasn't automatically going to intervene anymore.
That wasn't his responsibility.
He had spent years trying to save people.
Now he wanted to live his own life.
"I'm not a hero anymore."
He returned to his table.
A large architectural drawing was spread across it.
It was a detailed design for a bridge.
Derek carefully examined every measurement, support structure, connection point, and load-bearing section.
He made a small adjustment to one section of the design.
"That's better."
His work was extremely precise.
Despite being only 21, Derek was already one of the best architects at his workplace.
His employers trusted him with major projects, and his skills earned him a considerable amount of money.
Ironically, the same man who could relocate people across enormous distances with Transitioning was spending his ordinary days calculating bridge dimensions and drawing structural plans.
Derek took another sip of coffee.
His phone buzzed.
A message from his workplace appeared.
"Your bridge design has been approved. Outstanding work. Your payment has been processed."
Derek smiled.
"Not bad."
He leaned back in his chair.
For once, he wasn't thinking about the government.
He wasn't thinking about superheroes.
He wasn't thinking about Phase Two.
He was simply Derek.
A young architect.
A man eating dinner in his apartment.
A man drinking coffee.
A man trying to enjoy a normal life.
Nobody knew.
Not his coworkers.
Not his neighbors.
Not the police.
Not the superheroes searching for Transition.
To them, Transition was somewhere out there.
But he was sitting quietly in Metropolis, working an ordinary job.
Derek looked at the architectural drawing again.
"Being a villain doesn't mean I have to spend every day being a villain."
He continued working.
Outside, sirens could be heard in the distance.
Derek glanced toward the window.
Someone was clearly in trouble somewhere in the city.
He heard the noise.
Then he took another sip of coffee.
"Someone else can handle it."
He returned to his drawing.
For Derek, this wasn't laziness.
It was a choice.
He had spent his first life constantly trying to save everyone.
Now, he simply wanted to live.
And for the moment, nobody had any idea that the quiet architect living in the slums of Metropolis was actually the supervillain known as Transition.