---

The hero's head was pounding

the world spinning

muted crowds of thousands chanted his name

and the villain lay at his feet.

he would've enjoyed it

he would've cheered with the newly freed masses

his tears might've been with joy instead of sadness

but he could not tear his eyes from the girl.

The girl in the front row

five, maybe six years, he thought.

her wrist was tightly enclosed by the hands of another

a gruff man who did not smile.

they weaved through the shifting crowd

and when the girl tried to pull away,

the hero could hear the fist hit her small face, even through the clapping.

The hero bolted to save the girl

but she was gone, a nameless face in the crowd.

it seemed the hero had saved the city,

but he could never save a single one