"No Parahuman healing under any circumstances"

I checked that box immediately. As soon as I knew it was an option, I took it.

I was done. Retired. I was not going back into the hero business, or the villain business, ever again.

The card came in with my refugee ID. It was distinct. Made to be easily identified when a first responder tried to ID a victim. I kept it on my person at all times.

At the end of the first year, My dad and I gained citizenship after the United Nations passed a law that all Gold Morning refugees would be granted citizenship from their country of origin, regardless of what version of earth they came from, if they so chose.

We chose.

After that, I got a bracelet detailing my refugee status and my refusal of Parahuman healing. They weren't compulsory, nor were they distinguishable from medical tags worn by diabetics or epileptic.

It was 18 months later that I read an article on the subject of DNR, and how people had gotten tattoos tattoos so they didn't have to rely on family members not following their wishes. It detailed how in the past few years, with more Parahumans popping up with powers that had healing capabilities.

I got one, asking for it from my father on my 21st birthday.

As far as the media had shown, no one really knew much about powers, beyond the academic papers people had written on bet, which had been shared with all known universes since the blight of Gold Morning. Although the only connection with this university was through a multidimensional wired internet link set up and directly monitored by Dragon. I tried once to reach out to her, but in the middle of typing a message, I received one from her

"Dear Ms. Hebert,

In effort to keep the possible survival of the classified class S threat known as Khepri a secret, and keep you yourself from having Parahumans attempt to breach this world and make attempts on your life, I suggest you not try to contact me, and let me retain some plausible deniability, in case I am ever questioned on your existence and whereabouts. I am happy to see Danny and Taylor Hebert living well, whether or not you were once residents of a different earth."

So most people thought I was dead, and my powers were basically gone. I could sometimes feel bugs in the walls or grass, but I couldn't move them, or see, feel, or hear through them. I had, after the second or third time, decided it was more likely a ghost limb than a return of my power.

I could retire in peace, have real friends, live a normal life, and do the mundane human things I wasn't lucky enough to be able to in my late adolescence.

I was late to start college, with the months I spent in and out of the hospital, and all the bureaucratic nonsense of becoming a registered person in this earth.

So now, today, I was starting my first day at Washington University, far from any of my old homes on bet, in the unsuspecting city of St Louis Missouri.

I had moved into my dorm on the first available day, my spartan lifestyle barely taking up half of my available space. The only sentimental pieces I had brought were three photographs in frames on my desk and a small wolf plushie sitting atop my monochrome bedspread.

I spent the last week establishing a routine, setting up my various routes for my morning runs, finding where all my classes were on the campus, applying for various part time jobs in the area, despite my father telling me we had no need for money, and timing the walks and runs between certain buildings.

I did not miss having to wear bodysuits daily.

My roommate didn't move in until the day before classes started, and I came home late from the library to find her already asleep, her side of the room almost overflowing with decorations, although they all seemed very classy. A soft glow of Christmas lights surrounded her bed and the ceiling above it. Pictures were lined neatly on a corkboard, spread out over the entirety of it with ample space to fill in with more images. Books were lined up neatly on all but one shelf above her desk. In that outlier shelf was the only thing that seemed kidlike. It was a picture of her, probably younger than she was now, standing next to one of the well known heroes of this earth, an Alexandria type that had called herself Golden Eagle.

When I came back after getting ready for bed, the lights had gone out, apparently on some sort of timer.

I woke up before she did, going on my run before coming back to get ready for class, and by that time, she had already left.

I hadn't really minded not speaking to her yet, since we hadn't been here long, and I doubted that our silence would persist, but it had apparently affected her, because I found a note on my laptop, on colorful stationary with meticulous handwriting

Hi Taylor! Sorry we keep missing each other. I hope we can meet soon, maybe for dinner tonight?

Your roommate (and hopefully future bestie),

Sarah.

I already knew she and I weren't going to mix too well, as far as friends went. She wrote too much like how imagined Emma would write, but she clearly was much more kind, and I had no apprehension in rooming with her. She seemed organized and polite, which was to me, a perfect combination.

With that, I pulled on my backpack and headed to my first class.