“Come in,” the calm voice of the receptionist belied the nervousness Sofia felt. “Take a seat and we’ll be with you shortly.”

Sofia was the only one in the waiting room and could pick any seat she wanted. Unlike many waiting rooms she’d been in before, this one had a plethora of different seating options. There were austere, solid metal chairs, soft couches, and everything else in between. Sofia chose a wooden rocking chair. She had one similar to this one back home and she enjoyed knitting in it while her grandchildren visited. It was for them that she was here. Life was so busy, even at her age, and her children and grandchildren had finally convinced her to retire.

On the one hand, retiring would mean more time to spend with her family. That was something she’d had precious little of while her own children were growing up. And yet, on the other hand she knew far too many of her colleagues who retired only to pass away the following year. Without the job to keep them going, they just slowed down and stopping doing anything. Of course, not having super powers anymore might also play into that. Improved healing was a basic power nearly every super hero had.

It’ll be strange not to have her powers anymore, Sofia thought to herself. She’d had them since before she was married and had children. She absently stroked the place on her neck where the symbiote had been implanted into her all those years ago. There was no scar, of course, but if she concentrated she could feel the slight pressure, the bulge beneath her own flesh that wasn’t actually a part of her.

No one knew how long the symbiotes could live for, and it wasn’t entirely clear how they bred. All that was really known about them was that they were found in the deepest parts of the ocean. They couldn’t live outside the ocean for long without a host but once implanted the person would gain any number of powers. The symbiote could be transferred from person to person, and that was what Sofia was here to do. No super hero was allowed to keep their symbiote once they retired.

Sofia’s strength, ability to fly, and enhanced senses had made her one of the more powerful heroes of the last few decades, regardless of her advanced years.

“Sofia,” a nurse poked her head into the waiting room, “we’re ready for you.”

She got up and followed the nurse back to a smaller room.

“You’ll get dressed into your hospital gown here,” the nurse explained, pointing at the folded gown. “Then we’ll get you prepped for the transfer.”

“Thank you,” Sofia told the nurse.

As soon as she was alone she got changed. She’d kept her hero outfit on even now and it was strange to lay it aside, for the last time, she realized.

She stepped back out of the room and the nurse led her further back into a room with a hospital bed ready for her. Hospital gowns were awkward at best to maneuver in and, knowing she wouldn’t be able to do this again, she levitated herself up and onto the bed while using both hands to keep her gown from flapping open.

The nurse got to work, then, putting in the IV, diamond tipped so it could pierce Sofia’s skin. After that, the nurse measured all of Sofia’s vitals.

“Alright,” she finally said, “We’re ready to wheel you back into the operating room.”

With that, she unlocked the wheels on the bed and began to steer Sofia out into the hallway and over towards the double doors of the operating room. Sofia could feel her heart rate increasing. Up until this moment it hadn’t seemed real but she could see through the windows of the doors her replacement already in there, ready and waiting. A bright, young graduate of the hero training academy.

“It’ll be alright,” the nurse whispered as they entered the operating room.

“I don’t even remember what it’s like to live without it,” Sofia replied, and was surprised to realize she was crying.

“How long did it take you to adjust when you first got it?”

“A year,” Sofia laughed at the memories. “I couldn’t handle anything glass or fragile for so long because I’d accidentally break it.”

“I hear the adjustment back is quicker,” the nurse said and gave Sofia’s shoulder a brief, comforting squeeze.

“Alright,” the anesthesiologist said as he began hooking up his equipment to Sofia’s IV, “let’s have you start counting backwards from ten for me. Nice and slow.”

“Ten…nine…eight…seven…

Sofia couldn’t remember how far she got, only that one moment she was in the operating room counting down, the next she was in a recovery room with her oldest son sitting by her side. Her mind took a while to wake up so she spent some time fading in and out of consciousness. When at last she could keep her eyes open and her mind focused, she turned to her son and gave him a smile.

“You didn’t have to wait here for me,” she said.

He looked up from the book he’d been reading and returned her smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked.

Sofia raised her right arm and flexed. Her muscle mass hadn’t deceased at all, so she was still probably much stronger than most people, but she could tell she was no longer superhuman.

“I could still whip you in an arm wrestle,” she teased.

Then she tried to fly, even just a few inches up, but that sensation she’d grown so familiar with never came. Her smile slipped a little as she realized she’d never have that sensation ever again. It was like losing a friend, almost, and she touched at her neck, feeling the bandages that marked the place where her symbiote used to be.

“I miss it already,” she sighed.

“I know,” her son replied and took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

That solidified her own perception of how much weaker she really was. In the past, she had to make sure not to hurt others by grabbing them too hard, but now, she could squeeze his hand and not worry about hurting him unless she really tried.

“How’s my replacement doing?” she asked to change the subject.

“Already crashing around, trying to learn how to fly.”

“I hope they haven’t caused too much damage.”

“They’ve got a couple other heroes keeping an eye on things,” he assured her. Then, added with a smirk, “I believe you burst out through the hospital roof when you first got the symbiote.”

“Heroes were still new back then,” she replied, waving her hand indifferently at him. “We didn’t know what to expect. Now it’s all done by protocol.”

Sofia felt tired still and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling her breathing and noting how much more she was aware of her own body. She felt smaller, in some ways, weaker, but also more herself. She was alone with her body for the first time in decades.

“It’s not as bad as I’d feared,” she said softly. “Thank you for talking me into this.”

“Of course,” he replied, “Thanks for listening.”