[ WP ] `` How much of a hero are you , if all you 've managed to save is yourself ? ''

The hooded man polished off his glass of whiskey and set the tumbler down among the sea of empty bottles littering the floor around him. The Believer couldn ’ t tell if the words had registered until the man removed his cowl. The face underneath brimmed with youth and vitality, but the eyes… Those were the eyes of a madman. 
 
 “ I ’ m no hero. ” 
 
 “ Of course you are, ” the Believer began. “ You can ’ t die! ” 
 
 “ So you think immortality saves lives? ” A chuckle escaped the drunk man ’ s lips. “ You think that, just because I ’ ve been given eternal life, everyone I try to help is immune as well? A fool ’ s belief. ” 
 
 The Believer bristled at the insult. “ How much of a hero are you, if all you ’ ve managed to save is yourself? ” 
 
 “ You think I haven ’ t tried? ” The unmasked man leaned forward, elbows resting on knees, and stared at his accuser. “ Oh, I ’ ve tried so very, very hard to save them. Every soul in danger, every person in peril, and it all ends up the same. Immortality doesn ’ t translate. 
 
 “ I ’ ve stepped in front of countless gun barrels, pointed at cowering innocents, knowing full well the discharge can ’ t harm me. The bullets find their targets anyway; a bad ricochet usually does the trick. I ’ ve leapt off dozens of buildings, always reaching them just in time, but the impact still gets each and every one. I watched an entire flight disintegrate from the inside out, knowing I ’ d be the only one to step from the smoldering wreckage. ” 
 
 The immortal rose, staring down the critic. “ Heroes save lives. That ’ s where you ’ ve gotten it all wrong. This isn ’ t a gift. If I could save just one of them and give myself instead… ” He choked back a sob. “ I have to watch. The silent sentinel saves no one. ” 
 
 The sentinel stumbled out of the room, leaving the Believer to his freshly shattered world.
