The eyes that stared back at Ken were vacant and cold, looking as though they were behind a thin transluscent film.
"We all have our scars, Ken," Terry said softly. "Yours are internal. Mine are external."
"How'd it happen?" Ken asked, sipping at his coffee.
"Birth defect," Terry answered knowingly, reaching to put the blindfold back on his face. "I've grown up never seeing the world through my own eyes."
"But...?" Ken probed, sensing something more.
"As a young man, I noticed a strange happening," Terry began. "I could see things now and then, flashes. Like visions. For some reason, I recognized the people I saw, though I don't know how, having never seen a day in my life. I could see their deaths. Accidents they would have. Their entire lives would unfold in front of me."
Ken leaned forward, perplexed.
"Then what?"
"I was never wealthy. My parents died when I was young, so I spent much of my life begging. As soon as the precognition set in, I took to prophesying. Fortune-telling. Desperately begging people to try to avoid the mistakes that would take them down the path of my choosing.
"But it was no use," Terry sighed, cradling his mug in his hands. "Who wants to trust a stranger who cannot see? What could he possibly know about life? I feel like a walking Greek tragedy that God breathed life into and placed here in Promethan City."
There was a long pause. The waitress came, filled the coffee mugs one more time (she never did bring a carafe), and went about her business. The men continued to sit in silence for a long time.
"The power..." Terry asked. "The power you get to let out from taking down those meta-criminals. Is it ever enough?"
Ken shook his head, then, realizing his companion couldn't see, vocalized his gesture. "No, it never is." Ken sighed deeply. "Sometimes, I think it never will be."
Another conversational lull.
"You know... I trust you," Ken said, looking up at Terry.
Terry smiled a bit, looking up at Ken sadly. "No, you don't. You think you do, but... I can see through you. There is fear in you yet."
Ken bit his upper lip and covered his face in his hands. "There's always been fear. Ever since that first punch... there's always been fear."
"That's why you joined the police force," Terry said knowingly. "A chance to escape it, perhaps?"
"Or face it," Ken answered. "I don't know." Slowly, Ken lifted his eyes toward Terry. "What do you see in my future? How do I die?"
"You would not believe me if I told you," Terry said. "So, why spoil the surprise?"
Ken took a swallow of his coffee and finished the rest of his meal in silence.
