It's been a week since I spoke with President Godwin.
A week since I told him about Crow.
A week since I planted the idea of an unstoppable threat…
One I created.
One he believes is real.
(Heh. Kekeke. All according to script.)
But now, this moment, it isn't about doom, or plans, or puppeteering presidents like chess pieces.
This moment is about Leo.
My little brother.
We're sitting in the living room—sunlight slipping in through the window blinds, casting golden stripes across the floor. The TV is on low volume in the background, playing some old cartoon reruns, but neither of us are watching it.
Leo looks at me with those bright, curious eyes of his and suddenly asks:
"Brother… which one is stronger—Spider-Man or Batman?"
I blink.
Then I laugh not mockingly, but because that question—that wonderfully childlike question cuts through everything else.
