Power is subjective. A title placed to people that have what we want and dont have. Well you know what I have? I have real power. Objective, magical, whatever I want at my fingertips power. I mean sure, it's in the form of a bright-red reverse card from a child's game, but your mind would melt out of your ear if you saw what I could do with that slip of paper.

It started off small, I mean at first I had no idea what I had got. Played some uno with the deck and when I reversed, well, instead of reversing the order at the table it reversed the whole damn table instead. Whole thing picked itself up and we slid around and got placed in the new order. Well I grabbed the card before anyone else could and pocketed it before anyone else got wise as to what had happened.

Reversing the checks at lunch was next. I remember watching in awe as the waiter slid that red card out from the check folder and then took his wallet out. Hell, he even tipped himself, 25 percent. Generous if you ask me.

But then. Well then that's when I realized what power looks like. Standing in the street, straight on the highway, holding that flimsy bit of paper out in front of me. Meanwhile the cars crashed in piles before me, the rubble flying my way then rebounding right before it collided. Of course police showed up, were nice enough to arrest themselves in a prompt manner though.

But real power? Well....it trumps all of that. All of that is just playing around, juggling with atom bombs. Real power is surviving when you drop one.

I still remember it. I didnt have the time to react, to even think. Of course at this point the card never left my hand, but the bullet came too quick to reverse it. It split through my head as if time had stopped just for me. I guess I had made more than a few enemies by then. Public had taken to calling me a menace. One reverse and I coulda rid myself of the title, but I had grown to like it. Had a ring to it:

The Deck Deviant

The Relentless Reverser

Well after that bullet hit the titles didnt matter so much anymore. Nothing did when it went dark. In that blackness though, well that was the end of something, but it sure as hell wasn't me. No, no, I had power. And real power trumps death. Trumps all. So when death brought down that unholy instrument of many a means demise I did not flinch. I simply held up my card. Then watched as that scythe claimed its owner.

Nobody told me what came next though, I don't think anything knew. Lord knows in my many years since I had tried to reverse it countless times. Tried to die as many others tried. No such luck. Nothing to reverse, what was done was done. Well, that was until a new kid showed up. Reminded me of myself long ago. He stood tall up to me, looked me in my eyes and held up a card of his own. Red, just like mine, with a circle and a cross through it.

"Skip" he spoke. Then it all went black.

Now that? I reckon that was real power.