Paragons

Issue 16- The Pretender

Darktruth took in a long, slow breath as he glanced about the Council that sat upon all sides of him. He noted that several seats were empty, likely unfilled in the wake of the whole thing with the swords and Otherworld. He didn't quite pay as much attention to the details as he should have. He wondered how long it would be until they filled the empty spaces with more people willing to enact ideas like murdering those who simply wanted to be whole again.

  He hadn't even once glanced at the man that stood beside him, dressed in a baggy green shirt and purple pants. He knew he simply couldn't pretend that the other him, the original him, wasn't there, if he wasn't they both wouldn't currently be standing in front of the Quiet Council. Yet he still didn't want to make it real for himself.

  It hurt his brain to think about it all, and it made him feel cold and alone the more he dwelled on the questions he didn't want to be asked. If the original Darktruth stood there then what did that make him? What value did his life have when there were two of him? Did only one of them have a soul? Was he nothing more than a pretender? If he was nothing but a copy of the original's mind, could he trust his own thoughts and memories? Did he truly have any control over his own life?

  The question clawed at him and burrowed deep inside, and took out everything that felt good. Even thoughts of Pixie couldn't warm him up, not after he'd seen the look in her eyes that moment before he was led away from her room. The worry and fear. He knew that she knew he wouldn't be coming back, at least not that particular him. He knew that she had asked herself much the same questions as he had, even if they had a slightly different twist. What did it mean if she had loved a man who was not quite the man she had originally fallen for? Could she love both of them the same, or should she only love the original? Did this mean that their last few weeks, and every moment they shared, were now a lie? Was she losing him or getting him back?

  None of the questions helped either of them though. There was only the fact that the original Darktruth had returned and that the Council was adamant the resurrection protocols could not be used to make a duplicate of anyone. All that remained now was to learn exactly what his fate was to be.

  "I'm certain some of you think this situation is merely an annoyance," Beat commented as he entered the Grove. Darktruth noticed that the blue-furred mutant's eyes moved to Mr. Sinister as he spoke. "But I assure you this is something far worse. Not only does having a mutant duplicated go against the core principles resurrection was founded on, but in this particular case the duplicate poses a direct threat to Krakoan security, and has done so since we brought them back. Your decision today could very well decide whether Krakoa has a secure future."

  Emma let out a loud sigh. "I am usually a fan of the dramatic, Dr. McCoy, but do you think you could perhaps get on with it? I have a delicious breakfast that I would love to get back to, and all of this flair you're adding is keeping me from it."

  Xavier nodded. "I do think that it is best, given the nature of the situation, that we keep things as simple as possible. No room for confusion or doubt." He gestured towards Beast with his hand. "Hank, you say you have evidence of treason, please explain to us what you have."

  Beast moved to stand a few feet from the two Darktruths. "Well, you are all aware that several weeks ago it was assumed that Darktruth was dead and so he was placed into resurrection protocols. The man resurrected, I feel it may be best to simply call them 'Pretender' for posterity's sake, was then integrated into our society. Something I maintained from the start was a mistake."

  Darktruth, or he supposed 'Pretender' now, felt smaller with every word Beast spoke. The removal of his chosen name alone cut deep into him, only served to make him feel a little less real or in control of himself.