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Dr. Wesley Franklin sat alone in his office. His leg bounced up and down nervously as he planned his next move. He knew that what Ben White was doing was wrong, and that he couldn’t allow it to stand. However, he also knew that not only would making a move against White now would most likely be suicide, he also knew that it was in a way hypocritical. For years, he had ignored his own morals and followed White as he broke just about every law of both man and nature in his pursuit of scientific advancement. 

However, he knew that his conscience could suffer in silence no more. He knew that he had to act, however, he was not sure what course of action to take. Suddenly, he had an idea. He knew that he would never be able to get Icon free from his cell alone, but didn’t know who he could trust, if anyone within the facility. Then he had an idea, and though he knew that it may blow up in his face, he owed it to himself, if no one else to at least try. After a moment’s hesitation, he reluctantly reached for his phone.

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“You blew it, Scott.” said a familiar voice. “You have all these powers and you couldn’t even save me.”

Scott turned to face the speaker, and found that he was standing just outside his family home, the sun was shining down on the perfectly trimmed lawn. He could smell the fresh cut grass and he could feel the breeze on his face. 

He didn’t need to look at the speaker to know who it was, however he turned to face the man anyhow. When his eyes finally fell on the speaker, he knew that it was impossible, that this couldn’t possibly be real. However, here he stood, face to face with his older brother Brandon, who had died several years earlier.

It was because of his actions that Brandon was dead. It was shortly after Scott had graduated from Boston College, he and Brandon were fooling around on the back roads behind the Hunter’s home. The roads were in bad shape, and in some spots had almost been completely reclaimed by nature. Brandon had just gotten a new Jeep and had been taunting Scott about how it would leave him “in the dust.” Scott was ever prideful and accepted Brandon’s challenge. Everything had gone according to plan. Scott had given Brandon a fifteen second head start, and when the fifteen seconds had ticked off the clock, he took off after the vehicle. It wasn’t until Scott had passed the Jeep that he realized there was trouble. 

As Scott had raced passed his brother’s Jeep, Brandon had lost control of the vehicle. He sped off of the road and collided with a large pine tree. Scott had raced to his brother’s aid; however, there was nothing that he could have done. Brandon had been killed upon impact. Brandon’s death had been the impetus for Scott to leave home and get about as far away as he could from his family, and the memory of what he had done. However, it did little good, because although he had made amends with his family, Brandon’s death still haunted Scott to this day. 

“You just had to show off.” Brandon said, growing angrier with each passing moment. “Then you left me to die. You could have saved me. YOU SHOULD HAVE SAVED ME!” Brandon continued, his face beginning to distort, until the flesh on the left side of his face had rotted away, exposing a yellowing skull beneath the flesh.

“Brandon, I’m sorry. I tried, there was nothing I could-“ He was cut off by his brother.

“LIES!” Brandon shrieked in an almost inhuman tone. “You could have saved me, but you held back. You LET me die!”

“That’s not what happened.” Scott said, almost pleading.

“Yes, that is exactly what happened…and now you go around the world trying to make up for that by saving everyone that you can. But it’s not enough. It will never be enough you petulant son of a bitch. Nothing you do will ever atone for what you’ve done, or what you didn’t do…as the case may be.” Brandon finished, his face deteriorating further with each word. 

Before Scott could reply, the sudden explosion of light and sound forced him back into the here and now. 

[i]It wasn’t real.[/i] Scott thought to himself as a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” A female voice shouted over the noise. 

He looked up and immediately recognized the young woman who had led him into this trap into the first place. He didn’t trust her, but he could see that something was going on out in the hallway. People were running frantically up and down the hallway, shots were being fired, men and women were fighting, and dying just beyond the doors. 

“Haze…” Icon growled weakly. “What’s going on?” 

“The Doc wanted to make things right. We needed a distraction to get you out of here, so he opened the cages.” She said almost nonchalantly, yet something in her voice betrayed her regret.

She placed his arm over her shoulder and let him lean on her as she guided him out of the cell that White had locked him into. As he entered the hall and was out of the range of the neural dampeners, he began to feel his strength slowly returning. He didn’t know how long it would take for him to reach full strength, but somehow, that didn’t matter to him. Once in the hall, he looked around at the carnage that was strewn about and felt another pang of guilt.

[i]All this was because of me.[/i] He thought to himself as Haze led him down the hallway away from his would be prison.