The star, too, had begun to change. It was larger now, roughly the size of a walnut, and its color had changed to a writhing orange-red mass. Like a sphere of molten lava.

“Max?” Adrian called uncertainly. He pulled his arm from Nova’s and approached his brother. Nova followed, and as she got closer, she could see Max’s eyes open through the cut in the helmet.

She gasped, at the same moment Adrian froze.

The irises of Max’s wide brown eyes were gone, replaced with liquid gold. A few droplets had leaked down the corners of his eyes like tears.

A shiver cascaded through her body.

“MAX!” Adrian cried, running the rest of the way to him and grabbing his elbow. He gave him a shake, but the boy didn’t respond. Adrian looked at Nova, panicked. “What happens to someone who absorbs too much power?”

She shook her head. How should she know? Had anything like this happened before? Closer to Max now, she sensed an electric current in the air, a charge that made the hair stand up on her arms.

Adrian grabbed the helmet, pulling it from Max’s shoulders and tossing it across the roof.

“Max…” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder, pleading. “Max, talk to me. Tell me how to help you.”

For a long moment in which Nova suspected even her own heart had stopped beating, Max remained unresponsive.

Hovering a few inches beyond his fingers, the star continued to grow, now almost as big as a hand grenade.

“I…”

Nova and Adrian both jumped, pressing closer to Max. His voice had been so small, as if being dredged up from somewhere deep inside.

“I’m here, Max. Talk to me,” said Adrian.

“I … don’t want … it…”

A golden tear dripped from the bottom of his chin and Nova instinctively reached out. It landed in her palm, warm, but not burning. It reminded her of the golden threads of energy she had watched her father pull from invisibility and craft into toys and armor and jewelry and … weapons.

She pictured him sitting alone at their small table, coppery strands illuminated between his fingers. He’d been working on something special that night. He’d told her as much. She thought that she solved the mystery, but no—her father wasn’t creating the star as a weapon to destroy Captain Chromium. He’d wanted to stop Ace.

What are you making, Papà?

Something I hope will put to right some of the great injuries I’ve caused this world.

The great injuries he’d caused this world.

He had so much guilt for making the helmet. He wanted to counteract the enormous power he’d given his brother. So he made a new gift for the world, crafting it from light and energy and stardust.

The droplet seeped into her palm and Nova felt a twinge of familiar power tingle in her fingertips. She squeezed her fist shut and gulped.

“I’m going to knock it out of his hand,” said Adrian, picking up the remnants of a broken stone pinnacle.

“Wait,” said Nova, looking from Max to the dark city, the ocean, the vast world beyond.

She had once dreamed of a statue surrounded by ruins, but that dream had never been about destruction. It was about the hope that persisted when all else seemed lost. It was about the hope that the world might yet be saved.

It was about putting to right the great injuries Ace and the helmet had caused, and seeing her father’s final wish fulfilled.

Nova looked at Max again. She took in his eyes, glazed with liquid gold, and the star, which had darkened to a rich, crimson red.

He would absorb it all, every drop of power in this world. She didn’t know if this is what her father had intended, but she knew it was for the best. Soon, there would be no more prodigies. No more heroes, no more villains. It was the world Nova had longed for, convinced it was the only way for humanity to ever achieve some semblance of kinship and equality.

But no human could possibly hold so much power and survive. If Max did this, it would kill him.

Nova shuddered.

The Anarchists believed in sacrifices.

The Renegades believed in a greater good.

Nova wasn’t sure what she believed in anymore, but she knew she believed in Max. And Adrian. And herself.

She couldn’t let this happen.

The surface of the star cracked loudly, making her jump. Black fissures marred the bloodred surface.

“It’s okay, Max,” she said, slipping one arm around his shoulders, amazed at how small and fragile he felt. She stretched her other hand along his arm until she felt the heat of the star beneath her palm. “You don’t need to carry this. You can let it go.”

She glanced over at Adrian, who was still clutching the spire, and beckoned him closer with a nod of her head. Though he was dubious, he set down the stone and mimicked her actions on Max’s other side, wrapping one arm around Max’s shoulders, settling his palm over Nova’s.

There was another fracture from somewhere within the star, and a wave of energy pulsed outward. She felt it in the joints of her knuckles and the spaces between her ribs. Power incarnate. Infinite strength. Boundless wisdom. Clarity cascaded through her mind, and she felt like she could understand every mystery in the universe if she only paused to consider it. But at the same time, she didn’t want to pause for anything. She wanted to run and fly and soar.

Tears blurred her vision as the sensation of strength expanded through her limbs and it occurred to her that this must be only a fraction of what Max was feeling. Endless potential. Fathomless power.

In the space between their hands, the star had darkened. It was nearly black now, but with a web of hairline fractures burning white.

This power, this feeling—it didn’t belong to her, and Max couldn’t contain it much longer.

“Now, Max,” she said. “Just let go. We’ll do it together.”

He whimpered. The veins of gold pulsed under his skin.

The star began to cave in on itself, and then—

A flash. An explosion of energy—not just gold, but shades of aqua and amethyst, deep magenta and metallic orange, surging outward in every direction. The shock wave rolled across the wasteland, washed over the city, filled the rivers and the bay and tinted the water coppery gold as far as Nova could see.

It was destruction and creation at once.

It was a supernova.

And then … it was over. In the wake of the cataclysm, the star shrank back into the confines of Nova’s broken bracelet, looking like a chunk of polished lava rock.

Nova exhaled. She felt like she was releasing a breath she’d been holding on to for ten years. She covered the dead star with her hand and watched as the last remnants of its light faded away into the ocean beyond the city’s ports. There were a few more sporadic flashes of color, of brightness beneath the water’s surface, and then all fell still.

For a moment, it was peaceful on the cathedral’s roof. The whole world felt quiet. Waiting to see what would happen next.

Max groaned and slumped forward. Adrian barely managed to catch him before his head struck the stone banister.

“Max!” they shouted simultaneously, crouching at his sides. Adrian pulled him into his chest, pushing back his mop of sweat-drenched hair.

“Is he breathing?” asked Nova, checking for a pulse. The golden veins were gone, and his skin was now pale as parchment.

But yes, he was breathing. Yes, his heart was beating.

“Max!” Adrian yelled. “Come on, kid, stay with me.”

Max’s eyes started to open, fluttering warily, and Nova could feel her relief mirrored in Adrian. Not just to see his eyes open, but to see them returned to normal, if a bit bleary and unfocused.

“Were we heroic?” he croaked.

Adrian laughed and crushed the kid against his chest. “I think you just redefined heroic,” he said through an onslaught of tears.

“Max! Adrian!”

Nova propped herself against the wall, feeling like it would be weeks before she could stand without her muscles wobbling, and turned to see Hugh Everhart and Simon Westwood racing across the roofline, though Simon hesitated when he was halfway to them, his expression torn.

“What was that?” said Hugh, falling to his knees and wrapping both of his sons in his broad arms. “We were coming up the stairs when we felt it and now—” He pulled back, bewildered. “What did you do?”

It took a moment for Nova to understand. She’d been so overwhelmed by the surge of inexplicable power that was inside of her, even for such a short time, she had failed to notice the change that still lingered inside of her. Swallowing, she flexed and straightened her fingers. They tingled encouragingly.

A laugh tumbled from her mouth. Her power. It was back.

She could tell that Adrian was having the same realization. They were prodigies again. Elation rushed through her, and the first thought that crossed her mind was that Adrian would be able to fix her bracelet.

But that was a request for another time. Beaming at him, she slipped the bracelet into her pocket.

The star had returned their gifts.

And yet. Adrian still had his arm around his little brother, and nothing was happening. Nova felt no weakness in his presence.

Could it be that Max was no longer the Bandit?

Simon continued to approach them, cautious, and seemed bolstered by every step in which Max’s power had no effect on him. Then he was laughing, too—they all were, as their family crowded in together, embracing amid the broken stonework and shattered shards of glass.

Feeling like she was intruding on an important moment, Nova heaved herself onto her feet and stumbled across the roof. She stooped to pick up Ace’s helmet. She peered into the opening where her uncle’s eyes had once looked on her, doting and proud.

But his pride, she could see now, was never for who she was. It was only for what she could do. What she might be able to do for him. She doubted if he had ever truly loved her.

“It was indestructible when I took it the first time.”

Nova spun around. Captain Chromium had extracted himself from his family and was standing warily a few feet away. Was he worried that Nova still despised him? Now that he knew the truth about who she was, she supposed it was impossible for him not to think of how she had tried to kill him in front of thousands of adoring citizens.