Mike's journal

Day 1

The long search of finding some help was going nowhere. It seems that this city is filled with people that have forgotten their roots. Everybody and everything is about owning something. My search seemed so hopeless that I found myself in a rundown old pub that served liquor from a moose's head. How can they do such a thing? It is hard to tell if such use is out of reverence for the animal or degradation. I chose to acknowledge the former.

I met some odd folk in this pub. One of the oddest was the man called Brandon. Everyone seems to know who this man is, but I have no clue. He seems to have been some sports star or something. It is unimportant. What is important is that this young man seems to have some heart and willingness to do the right thing. Could it be I can find the help I need in him?

Three of us from the bar were involved in a tragic accident and I woke up in some facility where we were told that we have no some special ability that can be triggered in certain ways. I find it degrading some of the things I must do, but I will stop at nothing to end Samsung.

Well the powers that we have all received seem to be unique to our character. Brandon gets some super speed (which for some reason he seemed to use while engaged in intercourse with a young lady from that fun party). I turn into the Earth. It calls to me and I can feel its anger and magic.

This company (I dislike it even now, but maybe they can help give the power I need), has asked us to help it. The last mission we had was to protect some hate filled bigot. I have not been around people long, but even I can tell that he is lost and a plague. While protecting this madman, we were attacked by a young man floating around and burning crosses. He killed many innocent people, people from the land. During the battle, I could sense a terrible presence in my mind that I knew was trying to turn everyone against us and us against each other. It was the cause of all the hatred. I could tell that the source of all this hate was the man in the car. The man we were supposed to protect. Why would we protect such a man? It seems that he is the source of all the hatred that could taint the people from the land. Feeling the rage of the land in my bones, I grew a small explosive from my limb and tossed it at the car. My comrades looked at me in horror, but they didn't understand. They couldn't feel the man like I could. If they could have, they would have done the same thing. Needless to say, I removed a large thread of hate from the land. The tree will no longer poison the forest.

My new comrades threw words around like murder and betrayal. How could this be? I saved hundreds of people! Isn't the life of one evil man worth the salvation of the rest?

Sometimes, you have to prune the weeds from the garden in order to see the true beauty of the flowers around it.