Their parents, at least, were still human.

Far below the surface, away from the wars fought by whoever was left over whatever was left, I watched over the first children of the apocalypse. I taught the kids old fashioned values. To be polite, to be kind, and not to touch the barrels of nuclear waste buried deep in the ground. 'Keep all tentacles, claws, and fingers to yourself and don't eat the green goo' read the sign I posted above the daycare.

When Timmy's parents came to pick him up, they often told him nasty things about Ur-Grak's mommy and three daddies, who eventually returned the favor. I had to enforce our no fighting policy between parents more than their children. But while Timmy could speak at a tenth grade level when he was five months, Timmy merely listened to the diatribes, blinked his many, many eyes in boredom, and then wrapped himself in his wings to make himself fall asleep.

Humans, Timmy would warble to me while one of his heads drank magma from a fissure in the wall, his pre-nap ritual. They all look the same to me, he would say. What are they so worked up about?

I guess the more we change, the more we become the same, I would reply hoping it meant something. And then I'd tell Timmy stories about how humans used to hate each other based on the color of their skin, and Timmy would warble with what I hoped was laughter.

I learned a lot from those kids. When they eventually came of age, took to the surface, ended the human wars in one single terrifying display of strength, and made me their leader, I could hardly say no. I owed them much. We all do.

The first time I met Sarah Coopers was when she tried to rob a bank. She entered in full Flame Witch costume, the one with her instagram and twitter handles across her back. She spent the longest time setting up a Rube Goldberg machine in the lobby that terminated by shooting fireworks at the sprinkler system. The fireworks missed, of course, and ended up surprising a kid on her fifth birthday. The crowd applauded and the Flame Witch sulked her way out of the bank after refusing a tip from the kid's mom.

The second time I met Sarah Coopers, fine, the Flame Witch, was when she tried to rob me in the middle of Times Square using only a lighter and a ball of twine. I let her tie me up, and when she messed up the knots, people from the growing crowd stepped in to help. Then, she threatened to set the rope on fire, but discovered her lighter was empty. The rain would have made it difficult anyway.

As she tried to light the lighter with its nonexistent fuel, I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. To my surprise, she laughed too.

Sarah untied me, red either from embarrassment or her Flame Witch makeup. I offered her the money in my wallet, a single twenty, but she refused. Neither of us had an umbrella, and by then we were soaked. At least let me buy you dinner for the effort, I said. She said okay.

We ate at the diner, and those eggs and hash browns warmed us up like hot coals. She told me how she first learned card tricks from her mother, who raised her alone after her father pulled a disappearing trick by stepping in front of an oncoming semi. Sarah grew up thinking her mother had superpowers, and that Sarah might also get them one day. When Sarah discovered her mother was just a stage magician, and not one of the many superheroes and villains she idolized, she was crushed. She ran away from school to find herself, and her mother died in a gas explosion before she found Sarah.

That was when the Flame Witch was born.

What about you, Sarah said. I told Sarah about my superpower. It wasn't an impressive one, I warned her. I had the ability to be at the right place and the right time. For what, I never knew, but I'd usually figure it out after the fact. One time I'd bought bubblegum at the convenience store that sold the 1.2 billion dollar lotto ticket.

That's not very useful, she said, laughing like a flickering fireplace. Her messy red hair had grown wavy as it dried.

At least I get front row seats to a performance, I replied, even though I don't realize what I'm there to see.

Do you ever get it right, she asked. Do you ever know why you're there, and what you're meant to do?

Sometimes, I replied. I was beginning to think this was one of those times.

After talking for long time, we parted.

The third time I met the Flame Witch was on our wedding day. She tried to steal something that already belonged to her.

Okay, she accidentally set fire to the table cloth too. But I don't tell people that part.