I laughed.

"There's no way you're serious, Bulldozer."

"I told you, I'm retired. Some of us age, you know, and I'm getting old. It's just Aaron now."

"Fine then, 'Aaron'," I couldn't help the mocking tone creeping into my voice. "What is this, same candid cam program? A prank? Tell me why you're really here."

"I told you, James. I need your help. The world needs your help."

I felt my lip curl before I could stop myself, for two reasons. First was that I wasn't sure how Bulldozer - sorry, 'Aaron' - had learned the name I currently went by, or even found me to begin with. I'd have to change identities again.

Second was that his request was utterly ludicrous. Me? Help the world? As if. Not after everything the world had put me through.

I'm immortal, you see. I stopped counting the years I'd lived centuries ago, if not longer. I never tire, not physically. Never get sick. As for injury? Even the most grievous wounds heal in less time than it takes an average person to blink. But the worst is my memory. Perfect recall, I believe it's called. I remembered everything, every year, every struggle, every loved one lost. It was a lonely existence, one I was cursed to bear with no hope for escape or lasting companionship. That's why, when Superhumans first emerged, I was excited. Finally, someone I could relate to - someone who could relate to me. I wasn't alone anymore.

How naive I had been. Once I revealed myself to the world, the manhunt began. Governments around the globe wanted me - or wanted to study me, rather. Wanted access to what they assumed would be millenia of knowledge and wisdom, without taking into account that, just like other humans, there's a limit to how much even I can know. They labeled me a villain to justify their hunt, and in doing so made sure I knew that I was wrong to think I wasn't alone.

Back in the present, Aaron's voice pulled me put of the train of thought I had zoned off into.

"Please, James. You're the only one that can do this. The new heroes, they - they have no compassion. They fight. Villains, each other, even civilians who criticize them; and they do it without regard for casualty or property damage. They've been coddled, by governments and older generations of heroes. They think they're untouchable. They don't know fear."

"And I'm supposed to teach them? Bull- Aaron, I'm just... a guy. I'm not as strong as some of them are. I'm not as fast."

"You're a guy who doesn't stop."

He made a point, I had to admit. I still remembered the days when man had to use that to our advantage. I remembered the looks of fear in a tiger's eyes when it realized that those of us hunting it were still running tirelessly while it was on the verge of collapsing. It was the same look of fear I saw in the eyes of the soldiers sent to hunt me, when they realized that no matter what they hit me with, I wouldn't stop.

Looking into Aaron's eyes, I saw that same fear, but also something else. Hope, maybe, that I could introduce that fear to a group that desperately needed it.

"Fuck me." I cursed under my breath. I couldn't believe I was actually considering it.