A chat with SB

SecretBlonde turned the bird in front of his face. The presumed male was wearing a long leather Trench Coat that had a military style to it. Similarly, he wore a black army cap, black leather gloves. Most peculiar however was the gas-mask on his face. Dark green and with giant lenses, the breathing apparatus rattled, and a moment later another cloud of dark green gas left the filter. Streaks of short light blonde hair were visible at the side of the man’s head. There was something made of metal on his cap John could not quite make out.

“The Gamer.” The voice was raspy and distorted to the degree that it was impossible to make out the exact tone of it. The pitch, however, made John fairly certain that it was male. “You will have to answer me through your phone. After all, this is one-way audio. Unless you can make this bird talk.” He couldn’t so he typed.

Jeehan: What do you want?

“Just a little chatter.” The informant said, “I am bored and watching you is more of a side-activity currently.” A distorted giggle. “What a grand game of coincidences. Fate must have lead me here.” John watched the people passing by below them. They were on top of the flat roof of a supermarket yet no one was wondering what a guy in military get-up was doing there. That reminded John of something.

Jeehan: I didn’t see you before you grabbed me, why?

“Oh, really? Because you didn’t invest high enough, I suppose. When there are ways to reveal people, there are ways to hide people even better.” The informant turned the little bird in his hand. “But I digress. I was watching your school that day out of boredom you know? I have been looking for a certain thing for years and thought maybe the Brightons would lead me to it eventually, or maybe that history teacher of yours, maybe Regan Hollmey, maybe that Gorbachev girl, someone of them was bound to lead me to something. Then along came you.”

He laughed, it sounded almost like white noise. “Man, who would have thought that I would find a gold mine like you as a schoolgirl's pants on a tracking field?” That just confirmed what John had guessed all this time. The person that had looked at him during the first day he used his powers, that had been SecretBlonde all along.

“At first I tried to sell you off, but boy am I happy that it didn’t work.” The informant admitted, “You gave me a way to contact powerful people. Lydia, Maximillian, Magus, Romulus. You gave me money, untold amounts of it and with it the Ability to finally grasp at what I was seeking…or so I thought. I didn’t even need the money; you showed me where the thing I wanted was as well. All by accident.”

The man lowered his head and looked with what John interpreted as mocking eyes. “Thank you.” The metal piece at the cap came into his sight. It was an Iron Cross. Not some kind of religious symbol, well not anymore, but the literal Iron Cross of the Germans. What’s more, etched in the middle of that cross was a swastika, leaving absolutely no doubt about it.

Jeehan: You are a Nazi?

He typed not expecting an honest answer. He, however, got a very extensive one. “That is correct. Don’t mistake me with those skinheads with their torches nowadays or the brutes of old, however. I am looking for the refinement of humanity, nothing more.” The informant turned to the people below.

“Look at them. Look at them all. Going about their daily lives like sheep, only focused on their ambition to keep living. Such low ambitions. We must all strive higher. The world is nothing but a cradle for powerful beings to be born. Like you, yourself. A cosmic chance made you, John Newman, and I will maximise the odds to repeat a similar wonder.”

He threw his arms out and shouted his determination to the world, despite no one being able to hear him. “I will create the highest being. Through any means necessary. The Übermensch is not made from a mere mortal he must be created from the essence of humanity. My teacher understood it better than anyone else but when he failed he deemed his creation a failure. Such short-sight he had. We need war to fuel the competition. The thinning out of the weak. We must strive for a higher being through conflict. Only when the weak genes die out, and the strong prevail will we be walking towards perfecting humanity as a species….but I digress.”

Secret Blonde opened his left hand, and John was let go. He fluttered with his wings and stabilised. As he stabilized his flight, he looked at the informant typing away on his smartphone.

SecretBlonde: You may be happy to know that I sold the information about the two people you were watching before to the Golden Rose. This matter will be taken care of shortly. :D

Jeehan: I am absolutely disgusted that anybody would work with you.

SecretBlonde: Naw, don’t be like that. You bought information off me before. It's not like the fact that I am a Nazi is common knowledge. I would get super big problems with Blood and Princess_of_Steel if it were.

Jeehan: Maybe I should just tell them then.

SecretBlonde: Lol, are you threatening ME with Information warfare? Well, good luck.

John clicked his tongue in annoyance. The guy was right. Well, he had learnt a lot today, and at the very least he roughly knew what SecretBlonde looked like now. He had been about… How tall? John blinked repeatedly. Was it because he had been watching through a birds perspective or was some kind of magic at work? John could recall what the informant was wearing perfectly, but how tall he was or how broad his shoulders were, the exact memory slipped from his grasp, it was like grabbing at wet soap in a shower.

Frustrated John decided to sleep over all of this. A new morning would bring new answers. Or at least get his mind of all of this.